#he lowered his mask and my head started spinning

[mymelodyisme]

At the urgent care with my sister cause she was feeling sick and the nurse is really cute

[eiightysixbaby]

horror movies & chill

word count: 2.6k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

cw: SMUT - 18+ MINORS DNI. this is literally porn with a smidge of plot, sorry not sorry. mask kink, choking, degradation kink on the low (eddie calls reader slut/whore), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

The TV screen lights up the dark living room, flashes of different colors streaking across the space. You sit on the couch, blanket draped over your lap as your knee bounces absentmindedly. Your boyfriend had wandered off to get something, and now you sit alone in suspense as the girl on screen figures out there’s a killer in her house. The movie goes eerily quiet, the lone heroine peering around her silent home. You know what’s coming next. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that when it gets too quiet, a jump scare is right around the corner.

And yet.

You scream in unison with the girl on television, two hands gripping your shoulders from behind just as the fictional killer grabs his target. You spring up off of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. You spin around, frantic, your body gone cold for a moment. Wicked laughter erupts in front of you as you get your bearings, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

“God dammit, Eddie!” you shout, hand over your heart as you attempt to steady your breathing. “You absolute asshole!”

Eddie’s doubled over behind the couch, a cheap Halloween store Ghostface mask covering his head. He’s still laughing, trying to get words out and failing.

“Baby…” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s trying to be serious. What a dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get you that good,” he says, walking towards you.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you reply, but nevertheless you let him grab your arms, rubbing soothing patterns on the skin.

“I know. I am, baby, you’re right. That was mean,” he agrees, nodding his head beneath the black and white mask. You know he'd be giving you puppy-dog eyes if you could see him.

You can’t help but laugh, the initial panic leaving your body. You must’ve looked petrified, and you’re a little mad he scared you so badly.

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie’s head cocks to one side, sympathetic, playing it up for you. “Of course, sweetheart. And how do I do that?” he asks, stepping slightly closer to you.

He wants a genuine answer, but you find your breath hitching in your throat. Maybe it’s the way his fingers rub circles into your lower back. Maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body onto yours. Maybe it’s the sound of his labored breathing beneath that sweaty mask that's getting to you. You press your thighs together, suddenly feeling too hot for such a cold October day.

And Eddie can see, through the mesh eye cutouts, the way you bite your lip just slightly. He can see the way your lips part but no words come out, the way you tilt your hips closer to his. And he definitely feels the way your fingers hook into the belt-loops on his jeans, drawing him in.

“Oh my god. Are you into this right now?” he asks, voice dripping with his smug attitude. He’s grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat, if only you could see it.

You don’t answer right away, shifting on your feet. You look down, not sure if you have the gumption to tell your boyfriend the god damn Ghostface mask is turning you on right now. You were scared shitless mere minutes ago. But the way your heart pounds now is completely different to the way it had before.

“Shut up….” you mumble, your face growing incredibly warm.

“You are so fucking into this right now,” he says, laughing as he gets the last word out.

“Okay, if you’re gonna make fun-” you start, drawing your body away. Eddie doesn’t let you finish.

“Waitwaitwait,” he interrupts, pulling you back to him. “I just didn’t expect it, is all,” he reassures, his voice sounding muffled beneath the rubbery material.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eagerly anticipating his next move. You can't quite bring yourself to act first.

He brings your body flush against his, two fingers gliding up one of your arms, sending chills down your spine. He leans his face close to your ear, his breathing audible. “I won’t judge if you like the mask, baby,” he purrs, his voice deeper now.

His other hand wraps around your waist, palm pressing into your lower back, pushing your crotch against his. You gasp, goosebumps perking up along your arms. Screams erupt from the movie, the final girl running free from her potential killer. It’s comedic, really, how you’re stood here ready to jump the killer’s bones.

Eddie’s hips roll, just slightly, but enough for you to feel the tent in his pants. You let out a shaky breath, your body seeking him out, wanting him to give you more of that friction.

“What is it, babe?” he taunts. “You want me?”

“Eddie…” is all you get out, a breathy little thing, your hands pressed to his chest.

And then he’s pressing you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist, his crotch pressing against your needy core. One big hand comes to wrap around your throat, cold rings soothing the flames that lap at your skin. He squeezes, making you delightfully hazy, pinning you hard against the wall with his body.

“This what you want, baby? Want me to fucking ruin you?” he asks, voice akin to a growl, squeezing your throat yet again.

“P-please,” you mewl, desperate for more. You know you’re soaking through your panties, practically aching for him.

Something about not being able to see him drives you crazy. Relying on just his voice, trying to gauge his tone. You’re writhing beneath him, grinding yourself against him. He’s so hard it has to be painful, you can feel it even through the layer of denim covering his bottom half.

“Oh, she’s so desperate, huh? Pussy needs me, baby? God damn…” he rasps, and you throb for him.

His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh where he holds it, giving it a sharp squeeze. His other hand removes itself from your neck, tugging down the zipper on his jeans. You undo the button for him, just as eager to get his pants down as he is. His cock stands at attention beneath the fabric of his boxers, begging to be touched. He ignores it for the meantime, though, releasing his hold on your leg and letting you drop it. He makes quick work of sliding your leggings and panties down, fingers collecting the honey that drips from you.

Groaning, he brings his fingers to your mouth, prompting you to suck them. You oblige, mouth opening and enveloping his digits. Your tongue swipes over them, tasting yourself and coating them with saliva. And then they’re pulled from your lips, teasing your clit before slipping into your cunt. Your leg wraps around his waist once more, allowing for a better angle. He scissors those two fingers inside of you, his breathing heavy, sounding almost amplified from beneath the mask. Your hips buck forward, forcing his fingers deeper. One hand grips your side, pinning you back against the wall.

“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, slut,” Eddie barks, words sending sparks right through you.

His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion, your body feeling boneless as you try to keep yourself upright. He laughs, a devious thing, clearly satisfied with how pliant you are for him. You can tell how wet you are from the slick sounds coming from every glide of his fingers, your body so desperately craving more of him. He adds a third finger, prying you open even farther with complete ease, grunting as he feels the way you tense around him.

“Eddie,” you gasp, “f-feels so good.”

“I know it does, baby, I know,” he coos, smirking to himself at the way your body writhes beyond your control. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, hm?”

“Yeah, oh god,” you cry, head tipping back as you moan to the ceiling, his fingers pressing so deep inside of you.

He moans despite himself, your cunt completely drenching his fingers. His cock twitches in his boxers, leaks and pleads for you. You’re a little blurry through the eyes of Ghostface, but he can still make out the way your face contorts in pleasure. He loves making you feel like this, loves having you in the palm of his hand.

“My filthy girl, so fuckin’ wet for me all because I put this mask on, is that it? Really gets you going, huh baby?”

He wanted you to like the mask, if he’s honest, and the fact that it’s working on you is driving him up a fucking wall. He needs to be inside of you, needs to fuck you hard and pump you full of his cum before he loses it.

Three fingers slide out of you, squelching slightly as you suddenly clench around nothing. He yanks his boxers down, merely a hindrance to him, his thick cock springing free. You whimper at the sight of it, chewing on your lip as you watch him wrap his hand around the shaft. He pumps himself a few times, lets his pre-cum drip over his fingers, and it makes you ache. You feel like your body is on fire, you need him so bad, white-hot flames licking up your thighs.

A few more pumps and then he’s releasing himself, hoisting you up so both of your legs tangle around him. He grips the meat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh the best he can. He lines his cock up just right, your cunt glistening with your arousal. And you want to kiss him so bad, you want to feel your tongue against his and you want him to bite you, to suck bruises into your neck. The fact that you can’t almost makes you crazier, spurring you on more. You can only imagine what his face looks like as he sheathes himself inside of you, can only imagine those perfect parted lips as he sighs blissfully.

His cock pushes through your slick folds until you can feel his balls pressed against you, his thick length fully seated inside of you. It’s such an enticing stretch to fit him, your whole body vibrating with desire. He rocks himself in and out, in and out, letting you get used to his size. Your cunt has already soaked him in your cream, you can see it pooling where his body meets yours.

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” Eddie groans, panting beneath the warmth of the mask. “Such a needy whore for me, god damn. So fucking wet.”

You whine, canting your hips upwards ever so slightly, the tip of Eddie’s cock pressing so deep inside.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking me, angel. This pussy loves me, doesn’t she?” he says, thrusting into you harder now. He sets a quicker pace, holding your weight against the wall with complete ease.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you moan, waves of euphoria rippling through every inch of your body. He’s so deep and so big and so good.

Your nails dig into the skin of his back, clawing at him through his t-shirt as he fucks you like it’s his last opportunity. You can hear grunts and strained whines falling from his lips, breath coming out in spurts from exertion.

“Babe, fuck, can I take this thing off? Need my mouth on you baby,” he pants, hips snapping against yours and making you cry out.

“Yes, yes - fuck Eddie!” you moan, nearly screaming his name.

The mask is whipped off in one swift motion, Eddie’s unruly curls sticking out. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with sheer need, those perfect lips of his so pink and plump. His mouth is on you in an instant, kissing your lips, your jaw, his teeth biting at your neck. He sucks on the delicate skin, unforgiving as you hiss at the sensation. His warm tongue laves over the irritated area, soothing you and sending a shiver down your spine. You roll your hips, needing more from him, needing him in impossible ways.

“Fucking Christ, you’re so desperate for me,” he gets out through heavy breaths, his cock impaling you over and over. His cocky demeanor doesn’t waver, hands squeezing your ass, smirking when you whine at him.

Filthy noises fill the living room, wet smacks as your dripping pussy sucks Eddie back in for more more more. He glances down to where your bodies join, his dick shiny with your juices. Eyelashes flutter as he looks back up at you, pulling your face to his to kiss you harder. His greedy tongue roams your mouth, his lips demanding in the way they move with yours.

Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way your eyes roll back into your skull, the way your pussy keeps squeezing him so tight. Your brows knit together as you focus on how good he feels, eyes pinching shut.

“Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet girl,” Eddie instructs, fucking you faster. “Look at me when I’m making you feel so good.”

Your eyes open, big and glassy as they plead with him. You’re so ready to snap, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Eddie abuses your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair - something you’d missed while he’d had the mask on - and tug, drawing a throaty groan from him. His balls are slapping against the skin of your ass with each rough thrust, fingers digging so hard into flesh you’re sure you’ll be sore tomorrow.

Those big brown eyes of his are incredibly dark, his lips parted as he watches you slowly unravel right before his eyes. You feel yourself about to tip over the edge, about to let go, and he can see it on your face.

“Gonna cum for me, dirty girl? Little slut’s gonna cum all over my fucking cock?” he taunts you, every single word sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

“Gonna cum so fucking hard, Eddie, oh my god,” you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering to a close as you reach your peak.

You’re delirious as you cum, your walls squeezing Eddie so fucking tight. Strings of curse words are falling from his lips as he chases his own release, drawing it closer and closer as you completely soak him. Movements get sloppy, not aided by the slippery mess you’ve created, and Eddie’s breaths grow staggered.

His cock pounds into you one, two, three more times before his hips stutter, hot ropes of cum filling you. You can just barely feel the way he twitches inside of you, every last drop of his release pouring out. Both of you settle finally, catching your breath as you come down from your highs. Eddie sets you down, your feet hitting the ground once more. Your legs feel like rubber, like you might crumple to the floor if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding your waist and pulling you in to him.

You look down at the floor, the crumpled mask staring up at you, mouth gaping in a perpetual scream. You’re dizzy with realization of what's just happened.

“You’re fucking unreal,” he says finally, tilting your chin up so your eyes will meet his. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know…” you admit, cheeks growing hot. “Something about that damn mask,” you smirk at him, getting a waggle of his eyebrows in response.

“I can go to the store right now and get more… who do you want next? Michael Myers? Jason?” Eddie jokes, smiling when you scoff at him.

“Just make sure to keep the Ghostface one around, okay?” your shy request has him grinning, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of him for sure.”

[shotmrmiller]

09 wife jealous of how obsessed Johnny is with his girl, takes it out on 22 Ghosts and he fucks the attitude out of herrrrr and throws in one I love you that holds her off for the next hundred years

o.

my.

god.

yesysyeesyeyseyes

ok ok. can this just be multiverse ch 4? im feeling inspired. ch4 everyone i like this.

You are so happy for your friend, truly. But goddamn, if it doesn't sting seeing Johnny just embrace her, accept her love for what it is when Simon has been fighting you tooth and nail over your feelings.

It comes to head when everyone's in the lounge and Johnny looks at his wife with so much adoration in his eyes, and he plants a kiss on the corner of his wife's mouth.

You're lurching out of your chair so fast it tips over behind you— almost jogging back to your shared quarters with Ghost.

A couple of minutes later, there's a knock on the door.

Damn. It must be Soap's wife.

You're opening the door with an apology already on your lips when you realize it is definitely not her.

"Why are you knocking?" you sneer. "It doesn't matter, what're you doing here?"

Simon just stares at you, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying something you might regret.

"Let me in, pet."

Oh, so he can speak in a neutral tone.

With an aggravated sigh, you step aside and turn around, giving him your back. You won't cry again. Or at least try your best to not cry again.

The door softly clicks shut and you begin to feel like he's just pushed you into a corner.

"Look at me," he mutters.

He's definitely cornered you.

You don't turn around as you answer him. "Why, Simon? So you can continue to look at me like I'm worth nothing? Like I'm—" Your words turn to ash on your tongue because Simon's suddenly standing behind you, encircling his arms around your waist.

That starts the waterworks.

You spin to face him, returning his embrace. "Why do you hate me? I didn't choose to be here. I've never wanted to be a burden to you." Simon tightens his hold on you, pressing his cheek on the top of your head.

"I've never hated you."

"Well, that's news to me, isn't it?" you shakily snarked. You couldn't help it; your heart had taken enough of a beating.

He tips your head up with his hand under your chin, and you take in a sharp breath. He took his mask off.

Simon's as handsome as you remember. His lips are a soft, rosy pink. The bisected left eyebrow, the silverly long, thin scar on his upper lip, the crooked nose, even the bloody stubble— all of it the same.

And his cheeks are flush, with life.

"I don't hate you, love. How could I when you're my wife?" he breathed.

His wife. He called you his wife. His wife.

Simon gently lowers his head, and you rise to your toes, and when your lips meet, there's a switch in you that's flipped. The kiss turns hungry almost instantly, and you're moaning embarrassingly into his mouth, but you don't care. You don't fucking care.

He tastes the same, he even sounds the same when you suck on his tongue lightly. He's gruffer here, but he's still yours. And now you're going to take what's yours.

You start to fumble at his clothes, because why won't they just come off fast enough? Simon chuckles into the kiss and with his help, you're both swiftly naked.

His body is radiating heat, scalding under your touch. When you wrap your hand around his heavy cock, the groan you swallow is so lewd that it has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

Breaking away, you roam your eyes over his bare body before pushing him back with a hand on his chest. He lays back on his mattress, and you waste no time in straddling his hips and lining him up with your slit.

Simon's hands up to grab your waist, and chokes out, "Wait, you don't need me to—" and he doesn't get to finish because you've got the tip of his head in you already.

"Another time, tomorrow, yesterday, whenever you want just not right now. I need to feel you inside of me." That's the only warning he gets before you slowly start to sink down onto him, slick cunt spreading open for him beautifully— moaning loudly when his head kisses the entrance of your womb.

Oh, you've missed this. Yeah, you've missed Simon too but this... he slots himself where only he could ever fit— like it was made for him. And you have no doubt in your mind that you were, in fact, made for him.

You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him, keeping it slow because you want to savor every second, memorize how he looks like in bliss. Your pace stays the same, a gentle up-down when you feel his grip tighten around your waist. Simon's biting his bottom lip, his molten eyes are locked onto where you take him in, and he's starting to tremble.

He's about to come.

You quickly rearrange yourself to be on your feet and start to fuck yourself onto his twitching cock. Now he's groaning loudly, sonorous noise from deep within his chest, and you angle your hips forward slightly— taking him even deeper.

Your body is slick with sweat, hair matted on your forehead from the exercise, and Simon starts to thrust himself up into you as you come down— now fucking you in turn.

His fingers are painfully digging into your soft flesh, when he looks up into your eyes, mumbling, "Kiss me, oh god, f-fuck, kiss me please."

How could you say no to that?

You rearrange your feet at his sides and lean down to slant your lips over his, but he gets impatient, pulling you down strongly— teeth clacking against his, but the slight pain is overridden when his thrusts start to turn choppy, brutal. It's so familiar that you pull away, your words spill from your lips unbidden.

"I love you."

He grunts as he comes inside of you, coating your slick walls with his essence, and you kiss him again, languidly this time.

Simon's head falls back onto his pillow, and he rubs your waist as he tries to catch his breath. You try to rest your head on his chest when he stops you with a hand to your sternum.

"You didn't finish," he asserts.

Of all the things... "No, Simon, I'm more than satisfied with..." you quietly moan when he begins to lower his hand until he's at your mons and uses his own cum to make the pad of his thumb slippery— rubbing tight, precise circles on your neglected clit.

He plays you like an instrument, and your walls are fluttering around his softening cock in minutes.

When your thighs begin to shake around him, he pulls you down with a hand to the back of your head and whispers against your lips what you've been waiting to hear all this time.

You climax to his words.

"I love you too."

--

Johnny gapes at Simon the next day, because his demeanor is vastly different to the usual surly.

"Ye slept with her, didn't ye?"

A tsk. "None of your business, Johnny."

"Ye did! About damn time, if ye ask me."

Simon doesn't rebuke that. You were another's' but now you're his. Only his.

And he's never letting you go.

[ghostsangel]

Hi! First off I love the way you write! It’s amazing!!!!

Can I request some fluff and smut?

Simon comes back home from a tough mission and Y/n pulls out the works to make sure he’s relaxed: nice home cooked meal, soak in the tub, and a relaxing massage and Simon gets a happy ending 😏. And they cuddle and fall asleep ☺️

awww i love this so much<3

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, fluff, massage, oral (m!receiving), handjob, happy simon

This mission was tough for Simon.

You could tell from his strained voice on the brief phone call you two shared when it was finished. His answers were brief and gruff, and your heart twisted in your chest at the tired strain you heard. As soon as he hung up, you knew you had to treat him tonight.

You cleaned the house, lighting candles that smelled of cedar and tobacco—Simon’s favorite. You cooked his favorite meal, the sizzle of the steak and the smell of rosemary and butter like heaven in your kitchen. You knew it would be better than anything he’d have in the mess hall at base.

You’re just finishing up dinner when the door opens, and you wipe your hands and walk out of the kitchen to find Simon—still dressed in his tactical gear—letting his bag hit the floor with a thud. Smiling, you run over to him and throw your arms around him, shrieking when he effortlessly picks you up and spins you around.

Your fingers work at the baclava and mask, removing them to expose his handsomely scarred face. He smiles softly down at you, but his eyes are tired.

“Welcome home, baby,” you murmur, standing on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his.

He wraps his arms around you, pressing you against him as he kisses you back, the softness of your lips an inviting sensation after a couple weeks away. Breaking the kiss, he sniffs.

“Missed you, love. Did you cook?” He asks, raising his brows at you.

You nod, taking his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. “You sounded tired on the phone, so I wanted to treat you. Gonna eat then let you soak in the tub.”

Simon tugs you against him, nuzzling his face in your neck. “Don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his large hands splayed out across your stomach.

“Yes, you do.” You smile at him and gesture to the table.

Dinner is perfect, and Simon compliments your cooking more than once, making sure you know how much this means to him. He insists on doing the dishes, but you shoo him away, carefully rinsing each plate while he heads into the master bath to strip off his gear.

He sighs as you enter the bathroom, naked chest exposing the hard muscle of his arms and stomach. You’ll never get used to his scars—the way the jagged, white lines run across his bare skin. You kiss the one in the center of his chest before starting the bath.

The water is steaming, and you light candles around the tub and turn off the light. The candlelight illuminates the space intimately, and Simon lowers himself into the tub with a sigh.

“Feels so good,” he practically whines, blue eyes looking up at you. “Join me?”

“I’m going to wash you,” you say, getting on your knees beside the tub and grabbing his favorite scented soap.

He says nothing, only smiles as you begin to wash his scarred body. He hums quietly, contentedly, as your fingers run over his skin. Before you, Simon wasn’t used to intimacy—wasn’t used to being touched. Now, however, he’ll go insane if he doesn’t feel your touch.

You wash the dirt and grime off of him, letting him relax as your fingers work into his muscles. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

“Feels nice. Missed you so much, love,” he grumbled, his hands reaching up to grip yours. “Think I’m done.”

You nod, letting him rise and dry himself off before leading him to the bedroom. “Come on, wanna give you a massage.”

He quirks his brows, smirking at you. “Yeah? Go for it, doll. My muscles are aching.”

You snort at the innuendo and push him onto the bed. He lays on his stomach first, and you straddle his thighs—a task in and of itself as he’s so wide—before slowly beginning to massage his back. He’s tense and knotted, but he slowly sighs as he releases the tension in his body.

Your hands work his shoulder blades, his mid back, down to his lower back. He lets out a grunt as you hit a sore spot, and you pay special attention to it.

“Magic hands, love,” he mutters, rolling over onto his back.

Your eyes drift down his body, resting on his already hard cock. You’ve always loved his cock—thick and girthy, his mushroom tip already leaking precum. Your hands massage his pectoral muscles, holding eye contact with him.

He holds your gaze as your hands move down, past his abs and the v-line at his hips. Your fingers skim the little trail of hair that leads to his cock, and he sucks in a breath when your wrap your hands around his length.

“Need to make you relax,” you whisper, slowly tracing the veins along his shaft. “You deserve it, baby.”

He lets out a groan as you begin stroking his cock, and you lean over it, letting spit dribble onto the tip. Simon’s lidded eyes take in the sight before him, watching your hands move up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, love—you take such good care of me,” he murmurs through gritted teeth,

You grin up at him as you lean over and swirl your tongue around his tip, his hips bucking up instinctively.

“Shit!” He groans, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as you begin to take him in your mouth.

You’re such a good girl for him—swirling your tongue around his length while you take him so deep it brings tears to your eyes. Your mouth is stuffed full of his cock, and his fingers twist in your hair to push your head down. Your nose meets his pelvis and you swallow around him, causing him to let out a string of moans.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ me down your throat,” he grunts, using the grip on your hair to move you up and down his fat cock. “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast.”

You moan around him, tears prickling at your eyes and threatening to spill over as he fucks your face. You let him—he deserves this. You squeeze your thighs together, already dripping as his thick cock stuffs your throat.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you gag around him, tears spilling over and drool dripping down your chin. “Just like that—fuck!”

He holds you on his cock as it throbs, spilling his load down your throat. A string of grunts and groans spill past his lips, and you let out a whine as you swallow his load.

He pulls you off his cock and smirks at the sight, tears and drool mixing together and dripping down your chin onto his thighs.

“Beautiful, doll.” He tugs you up by your hair, pulling you onto his lap. “Now it’s your turn.”

[halucynator]

False Fronts

part 1 of 4

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: fake dating, arguing, not proof read and my writing 😔

Summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.

there will most definitely be a part 2

i will absolutely credit @berryzxx for helping me and giving me ideas for this haha

sorry if anyone's name is Jess ily i swear mwah <;33

he's such a cutie tehe

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst

You were going about your usual business, wandering the empty corridors of Hogwarts. The prospect of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, particularly with Umbridge as the professor, filled you with dread. Determined to delay your arrival as much as possible, you lingered, reluctant to head to your lesson.

As you strolled through the corridors, distant murmurs reached your ears. Tracing their origin, the faint echoes evolved into a heated dispute—a boy and a girl embroiled in a passionate disagreement. Step by step, you closed the distance until their fervent voices became distinct and clear.

"Look, Jess, it's over. O-V-E-R." You could hear the boy say to someone who you could only assume was called Jess.

"But I don't want it to be over! I still love you! Please, I'm sorry!" The girl, presumably Jess, begged.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you went and cheated on me." His response cut through the air, chilling in its icy tone, sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. Whoever he was, his disdain for Jess was palpable. His voice was unmistakable, you having heard it all your life. You knew who it was.

He sauntered off, leaving both Jess and you dumbfounded. Peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the boy, you inadvertently crashed into the very person—Theodore Nott—you were trying to observe.

As you collided with Theodore Nott, his demeanor shifted from the tense confrontation to one of mild surprise, his dark eyes locking with yours in an unexpected encounter. You stumbled back a step, catching your breath as you met his gaze, both of you momentarily stunned by the abrupt intersection.

"Y/N," Theodore uttered your name, a flicker of recognition dancing across his features before settling into a composed mask. "Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

Your mind raced, trying to process the scene you'd just witnessed. His confrontation with Jess seemed far more serious than a typical teenage quarrel. Sensing your curiosity, Theodore's expression shifted a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Listen," he started, his voice lowering to a hushed tone as if sharing a secret. "I need a favor, and I think you might be the perfect solution."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Theodore hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"Jess won't leave me alone. She's been causing a scene ever since things ended between us. I need... I need someone to help me out, to pretend to be with me, just to get her off my back. It's purely for appearances, nothing more."

His request hung in the air, unexpected and oddly intriguing. Theodore Nott, asking for your assistance in a situation as serious as this. You weighed his words, contemplating the implications of what he proposed, your mind swirling with questions about why he'd chosen you for such a peculiar task.

"Please. I'll ask nothing more of you. Just some PDA. Slight touches, whatever you're comfortable with."

The allure of being close to him warred with the fear of playing a role in a situation that could easily spin out of control. Yet, despite the inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope danced in your chest—an opportunity to be near Theodore, even if it was only as part of a facade.

You'd been friends with Theo for what felt like forever. He trusted you, and that meant a lot. Sure, there was that fear of being stuck in the friend zone, but when you thought about it, the chance to help him seemed more important. He wanted this, and he was your friend. So, yeah, you wanted to be there for him.

After a moment's hesitation, you gathered your resolve and nodded in agreement, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fury of emotions raging within you. "Alright, Theodore. I'll help you out."

A flicker of relief crossed Theodore's face, a barely perceptible shift in his expression that hinted at gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one."

As the weight of your decision settled in, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of what you'd just agreed to. Theodore's proposal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and the realization that you were about to embark on a fake relationship with someone you genuinely cared for made your heart race with both anticipation and anxiety.

Theodore glanced around, as if to ensure no one else was nearby, before leaning in closer. "Let's meet later today and discuss how we're going to pull this off, alright? Preferably somewhere private."

Nodding in agreement, your mind raced with a million questions, but you managed to offer a reassuring smile. "Sure, Theodore. I'll be there."

As he walked away, you were left standing there, your mind spinning. The whole idea was thrilling, but it also felt like stepping onto a rollercoaster without knowing the twists and turns ahead. For now, all you could do was wait and meet up with Theodore and realise the depths of the situation you just put yourself into.

Either way, this fake dating thing just became your reality, and you had no clue where it would lead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hello, hi! read part 2 here :))

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You shiver and hide behind your eyelids. The air swirls around you in a cyclone as you clasp to the icy metal against you. You can't believe this is happening and yet your imminent doom cannot be denied. 

You squeal as Tony lets you go. You squeeze him tighter, knowing you won't be able to hold on forever. Not with the whipping winds and bone-deep chill.  

You brace yourself, trembling, and your feet meet solid ground. A gentle tap on your side has you tearing away as the dearth of sound and motion hits you like a truck. You look at Tony in defiance, your embarrassment curdling just under your skin. 

"That was fun," he chuckles as his mask retracts to reveal a taunting smirk. 

"Whatever. Go back to New York, I'll find my way--" 

You turn and swallow your words. Your grandmother's house is right behind you. You peer around and push your shoulders back. You really aren't winning this one. 

"Can't say I never did anything for ya. Lot quicker than the bus," he snorts. 

"Oh," you spin back to him, "so you think this makes us even?" 

"It's a start," he shrugs. "Now," he holds his wrist up as if to check the time and a projection casts from a microscopic projector. He swipes through the wall of text as a lens extends from his suit and hovers in front of his eyes. "If I'm gonna get that trailer, I need to speak with the leasee, a Darlene? Is that mommy?" 

You suck in your cheeks and puff out through you nose. It's like pulling wisdom teeth but you're getting somewhere. You put your hands on your hips and nod. 

"Yeah, I'll go see if she's home." 

"You know, I'm not sure how things work around here," he lowers his arm as the projection disappears and the lens folds back into his suit, "not sure about how things work around here but typically when someone brings you home, you invite them inside." 

You stare at him, your brows arching. He scoffs and tilts his head. 

"Tell ya what, I'll even dust my boots off." 

He kicks his feet and brushes his metal gauntlets of his chest place. All at once the suit folds into itself. You frown and examine him, trying to figure out where it's hiding under his blazer. He straightens his tie and comes out his hair with his fingers.  

"There, all dolled up to meet mom," he winks.  

You chew your lip. He's annoying but he says he's going to help. Besides, you'd rather he deal with your mom and be done with him. 

"Fine, come on." 

You turn and march away. He snickers and follows, "so hospitable." 

"Well, sorry to disappoint but we don't have a butler." You go up onto the low porch and pull open the screen door with a squeak. 

"Huh, that really what you think of me?" He grabs the door above your head as you unlock the inner one. "I sit in my ass all day and drink champagne and smoke cigars? I'll have you know I do all that and save the world when it comes calling " 

"Mm, got it." You drone as you push inside, "mom? Grandma? We got company." 

"Really rolling out that red carpet," he scoffs. 

"Stay here," you say as you head down the hall. 

"You know I don't usually take orders," he intones, his voice drifting off into words you can't make out clearly, "...kinda hot..." 

You don't think it's too bad. Your grandma's place is usually blistering in the summer but it's just about tolerable today. Her bedroom door is closed, signalling she's probably sleeping, but your mother isn't where you expect to her. Her ash tray is on the table but the kitchen is empty. 

The back door is open. You swing open the screen and lean out. She's puffing a cigarette over your grandmother's pansies. 

"Mom, someone's here about the trailer." 

"Tell the damn landlord I'm not payin' til I get a new one," she snarls. 

"It's not him." You insist. 

"Huh, insurance peddler?" She butts out the smoke on the wooden railing, leaving the stub there. 

"Tony Stark." You answer bluntly. 

She cackles, "fucking smart ass. Go away." 

You state at her and she scowls. She huffs and tramps over to you. You hold the door for her and she enters. 

"You and your goddamn jokes..." she grumbles as she crosses the kitchen.  

You stay a few feet back as you follow. She stumbles to a halt as she reaches the doorway. She coughs and looks at you over her shoulder, "holy shit." 

You shrug and shoo her with your fingers. 

"Darlene, wonderful to meet you," Tony sounds almost charming as his footfalls creak on the floorboards. 

"Mr. Stark," she preens. You haven't heard that simper in ages. "What are you doing here?" 

"Well, I did say I'd fix what I broke." He explains. "Really unfortunate what happened. Sometimes we can't avoid a little collateral but just happy no one was hurt." 

"Of course," she chimes. "Well, it wasn't much but it was our home." 

"Humble," he praises. "Your daughter has been a great help too. Such a lovely girl." 

"Eh, oh, I s'pose," her voice slants with uncertainty.  

"We got a lot of details to go over. I had my people come up with some options but I want you to be happy so I'll leave the choice up to you. Gonna take a bit so how about I order dinner. My treat, of course." He pauses and you peek put from the kitchen. He smirks past your mother, "you like pizza?" 

"Oh, Mr. Stark how generous. Whatever you like is good enough for us." She giggles. You wince. She doesn't giggle. 

You retreat back into the kitchen. She's just like those kids clamouring for autographs and the star-struck residents completely unbothered by the burning ruin. They don't see anything but him. 

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)

Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING

Word Count: 2.2k

“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.

“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.

“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”

Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.

“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”

“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.

You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.

Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.

You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.

“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”

Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.

He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.

He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.

Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.

So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.

He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.

You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.

“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.

“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.

“Did you drink water today?”

“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.

Cute. Jason thought.

“How was work?”

You eyes brightened.

“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“

As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.

“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.

The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.

“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.

Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.

“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.

“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”

Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.

You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.

“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”

You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.

“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.

Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.

“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.

“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”

You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.

Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..

“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.

Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.

“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.

Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.

“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.

Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.

Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.

He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.

You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.

“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.

Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.

His hand faltered, never reaching yours.

“I want so much. Too much.”

Jason’s hands clenched

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”

“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.

“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”

“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.

“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.

“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”

Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.

“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”

Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.

“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.

“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”

Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.

You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.

With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.

Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.

You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.

“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.

You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.

Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.

He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.

He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.

His hand dropped.

You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.

“Jay, I’m sor—“

He was gone.

The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.

You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.

You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.

You were calm. Too calm.

You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.

He left. He really left.

You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.

“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.

“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.

Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.

The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.

You quieted down.

Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.

“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.

Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.

[mirangel]

selcouth.

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

genre: smut

cw: dubcon, degradation, praise, fingering, breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, no aftercare, use of pet (2) and slut (2), fingers in mouth, mating press -> doggy style, creampie, no pronouns used

word count: 2.1k

you messed up majorly, and the grandmaster gives you a second chance, just not as a member of the lin kuei anymore.

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was infamous for his strict, domineering rule over his warrior clan. Even his younger brother, Kuai Liang was never the exception to his acerbity. However, like many others who serve the Grandmaster, you keep your head low, performing your duties and assignments as commanded by him. Today just wasn’t your day however, as you focused on the icicles beginning to form on the pristine wood under you. You could feel the glare boring down on the back of your head as you hang your head, ashamed and fearful for your life. You were already still recovering from previous injuries, just the thought of potentially worsening your wounds makes your head spin.

Your mind was in shambles, pleads and apologies spilling from your mouth like a torrent, but the increasing cold chill had you stammering. “Shut up.” Bi-Han spat, his arms crossed and his dark brown eyes narrowing. Even masked you could tell he disapproved of your actions. “You have no right to speak after your failure.” You felt your heart sink, but you kept your place on your knees anyways, fearful of what he’d do to you if you tried to defend yourself further. Bi-Han circled around your kneeling form, his footsteps pounding in your ears. “You’ve failed the Lin Kuei, failed to execute your duties. It’s laughable how you try to defend yourself like this.” You trembled from the sheer cold, finding solace in the comforts of your mind.

But his voice was soon closer, borderline whispering as cold air appeared in your peripheral view. “You’re unfit as a warrior of the Lin Kuei.” Bi-Han sneered, his lips forming into even more of a frown than he usually sported.

“Grandmaster I—” You fretted, but your head was suddenly shoved to the ground, leaving you disoriented as you realized how much your head hurt. “I have a better role for you.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice despite his almost permanent scowl present on his face, “You’d do better as my spouse. You’d have no need for this excessive… clumsiness, then.” Your eyes widened in terror, desperate to break free from his grasp. But Bi-Han proved too strong for you, his grip on the back of your head strengthened as he kicked out your knees enough to where your hips are raised, and your head still pressed to the ground.

“We can even start with training today,” Bi-Han commented, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I know how you train early in the morning and end late at night, it’ll be just like that.” The chill worsens, goosebumps forming on your skin. “Your very own personal regimen, aren’t you excited?” Truth be told, your heart skipped a beat at the mere anticipation of this so called “regimen”, but fear filled your veins more than excitement did, and you thrashed like a wild animal.

Bi-Han grunted, gripping your chin with the hand he used to hold your head down, whispering into your ear with an uncharacteristically sultry voice, “You’ll carry my children, I’ll make sure of that.” Your body trembles in excitement, a breathy “Grandmaster” escaping your lips in a needy fashion, and he can’t help but groan. “Good little pet.” He laughs condescendingly, beginning to strip off your uniform.

Bi-Han makes quick work of it, as expected for a man who practically lives in his uniform. He callously tosses the garments on the other end of his office leaving you completely bare, shivering to the cold chill in the air. “Don’t tell me you’re already shivering.” He scoffs, his intense gaze searing into your body. Bi-Han lowers his pants down to his knees, a large bulge prominent on his boxers. Your eyes widen, mouth becoming dry at the mere sight. But he cocks his head with a grin while crossing his arms, making his muscles that much larger.

Bi-Han moves behind you, caging your body with his own. His cold breath hitting the tip of your left ear as he gropes your body, malleable and soft under his calloused hand. His other hand wraps around your neck, adding just the slightest amount of pressure to make you aware of his presence. “You should be grateful I’m allowing you to have this second chance. I would’ve killed any other warrior for this… blunder.”

Thick fingers that once surrounded your neck prod at your hole, it’s undeniably cold, but there’s a sort of thrill that goes with the temperature play as well. “Wet already?” You feel his grin form despite his face pressed up against your neck. “Such a slut.” You stiffen up at his words, your body involuntarily shivering and you can’t help but let out a moan, and it was almost as if his eyebrow raised, “Oh?” Bi-Han sneered, thrusting his fingers into your pussy, struggling to accommodate two of his fingers alone.

“Look at you, how will you take my cock if you can’t even take my own fingers?” You failed to come up with a response, desperate to find something to grasp, something to hold while he brought you further into depravity. Your eyes rolled back as you bite down on your lower lip, a choked sob leaving your lips as he continued to finger fuck you into oblivion. What didn’t help was Bi-Han whispering the most obscene things into your ear, melting your mind with his voice alone.

“Your face is so cute when you’re fucked out like that.”

���So weak for me, have you been like this all along?”

“I should’ve had you like this from the beginning, you’re prettier as my stupid whore than a Lin Kuei warrior.”

Despite the degradation, it never fails to make your knees weak. Your body practically shakes with how desperate you’ve become, the coil in your stomach tightens as he brings you to your high, and you would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for Bi-Han holding your waist up. He’s beyond arrogant for a Grandmaster, but he has the skills to back up that annoyingly prideful attitude.

“Grandmaster, I’m gonna cum…” You whined, raising your hips higher to chase your pleasure. However, Bi-Han didn’t respond with words, replying with steady, deep panting resonating in your ear. It was as if his cold fingers set your insides on fire, the loud slap of his palm making contact with your ass, more of your fluids soaking his middle and ring finger with ease.

You let out a choked sob, your entire body giving out as you were overwhelmed by your orgasm. He wraps his arm around your body, supporting your trembling body as he continued to finger fuck you into another realm. “Such a good little toy for me.” He murmurs, your eyes rolling back from how electrifying his cold fingers feel inside you. You whined when his fingers left you, turning your head to find Bi-Han staring at his fingers wistfully, spreading apart his middle and ring finger to find a thick white string connecting the two together.

His gaze shifts to your embarrassed form, a smirk present on his face just before he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck.” He demands, “Clean up your mess, dirty slut.”

His fingers were thick beyond words, feeling more as a popsicle due to how cold they were. But you obeyed without hesitation, your hands trembling as you grabbed his hand. He forces his fingers further into your throat, tilting his head as you struggle to adapt to the intrusion. “By the gods, you look so terribly debauched like this.” Bi-Han scoffs, his other hand caressing your cheek as if you were his equal.

“It makes me want to fuck you dumb.”

Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed, lowering his boxers just enough to where his cock would be exposed, another purposeful show of power. He takes note of your naked body, pushing you down onto your back before climbing on top of you. Bi-Han places his hands on the underside of your thighs, experimentally pushing your legs towards your chest. “Suitable enough.”

He hooks your legs onto his shoulders, gliding his dick along your slick folds, taunting you, teasing you. You can’t help but let out a shaky moan, “Please Grandmaster.” You plead, but he takes his time, his gaze boring into your teary eyes. It was almost as if he intended to melt you with his dark brown eyes alone, it brought a shiver down your spine and if you weren’t about to be fucked into Outworld and back, you’d probably collapse to your knees to suck his dick.

Bi-Han would probably get off to that, now that you think about it. He’s always liked a good show of obedience after all.

He taps the head of his dick right onto your clit, and your body jolts as if you’ve been shocked by lightning itself. He can’t help but grin at the sight, his ego swelling larger than his body can contain it. After what seems like forever, he presses the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your pussy. Although he doesn’t utter a word, that mere action in and of itself is a warning for what’s to come.

Bi-Han goes slow, agonizing slow. Despite his degrading words, there’s a look in his eyes that tell so much more than his words do. You’d dwell on it further if it weren’t for his dick practically stretching you out. Not only did you feel so overwhelmingly full, but it hurt in a way that was pleasurable. But you couldn’t word that into a proper sentence, there’s no way you could when Bi-Han is directly above you, his face contorted into restrained pleasure as he tries so desperately to hold himself back from fucking you like an animal in heat.

“By the Gods… you feel heavenly.” It was the only kind thing he had said this entire encounter. Tears of pained pleasure fall from your eyes, he notices them as soon as they hit your cheek, wiping them away with his thumb. “No tears.” He tuts, kissing the outermost corner of your eyes. It’s chilly of course, why wouldn’t it be? But something about his actions brings you comfort, rather than the sheer blizzard he carries with him on the daily, it’s more of a gentle breeze ghosting your skin.

Bi-Han fucks you as if it was the last thing he was going to do, burying his face into the crook of your neck to prevent you from seeing his face. He pants, blowing cold air against your neck and your body shivers in response. “So tight f’me.” The Grandmaster mumbles, his grip on your hips strengthening. It was so hard to think with the way he pounded into you as if you were nothing but his toy. It was exhilarating, it was like the pain you felt from your injuries from the prior mission was never there in the first place.

If your wounds reopen as a result of this, then so be it. Getting the fuck of your life was worth any punishment he would give. Bi-Han suddenly pulls out, and flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your waist and thrusting mercilessly. You were desperate to find some sort of purchase, but the wood flooring gave you none. Your eyes rolled back as you pleaded for mercy, and you let out a shriek when you came on his cock, biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to ground yourself.

“That’s twice now, my pet.” He sighs, his eyebrows knitting at his impending climax. Bi-Han spanks you once more, and you let out a needy whine, grinding up against him in desperation. “Where do you want me?” You try to answer, but it comes out as meaningless babble instead. He stills his hips, pressing his chest against your back. “Use your words.”

“In… Inside, cum inside me, I’m begging you.” You moaned, you felt your entire body shaking with desire, increased by the groans Bi-Han made. It’s all for you, no one has heard these noises but you.

God damn, you felt so special.

With precise thrusts he’d flood your insides white, letting out an unabashed moan you’d never believe came from him. Despite the rest of his body being cold as ice, his spent inside you made you feel warm. Bi-Han pants above you, pulling out of you and watching his cum dribble out of you, dripping out onto the floor. “I ought to make you clean that up.” He grumbles, but he uses a tissue to clean up the mess, chucking it into the trash can with near perfect aim.

Bi-Han lifts your exhausted body, tossing you onto the sofa in his office. He doesn’t clean you up, he doesn’t have time to. But you’re sure that this is his way of caring for you. He returns back to his desk, working on whatever reports he’d have to do as Grandmaster. Your eyes droop closed, your breath evening out.

Perhaps you could get used to living life as his spouse.

ugh i literally need to be sedated this man has got me so down bad HES ONE OF THE REASONS WHY MY INBOX ISNT CLEARED. grabs him and shakes him like a ragdoll, also this is really self indulgent so he might be ooc…….. my bad

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers when you give them a cheesy nickname

Jason Voorhees

He is busy maintaining his weapons when he feels you lean on him.

"What're you doing, Jasey-honey?"

Poor guy gets so startled that he accidentally cuts himself while sharpening his machete. You quickly slip around him to inspect the long cut on his thumb. Thankfully, the wound isn't deep. You quickly reach for the first aid kit you keep nearby and start to clean it out.

Jason watches you intently. You've been with him for years, he knows, deep down, how much you love each other. But at times, the scars left by years and years of rejection by everyone but his mother resurface and make every display of affection from you come as a surprise.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you", you mutter. "I've been calling you that in my head for a while, and now it just kinda slipped out."

He leans down until his forehead meets yours, with only the rough, cold material of his mask between you two. His eyes stare into yours, almost expecting mockery, but finding nothing but sincerity. He closes his eyes and lingers for a short moment, before he sits upright again.

Vincent Sinclair

The two of you started with the nicknames fairly quickly. When he emerges from his basement in the morning, looking for some coffee and breakfast, you turn to him, give him your brightest smile and say:"Coffee is ready, my love."

His eye brightens and he pulls you into his arms, slipping up his mask just far enough to pepper your neck and shoulder with gentle kisses. God how he loves hearing you call him that. If you're not careful with that kind of language, he'll end up having you for breakfast instead.

Someone clears their throat, making you jump apart. You completely forgot that Bo also happens to be in the room. He looks at the two of you over the rim of his mug, with an expression that tells you to get a damn room already.

Freddy Krueger

No.

Just no.

Freddy isn't the romantic type and can't stand it when you're trying to be all cutesy with him. That, of course, does not stop you. In fact, it only encourages you to find the most cringy, sickeningly sweet nicknames, just to tease him.

"My sweet nightmare-"

"No."

"My studmuff-"

"No."

"My crispy-"

"No."

He scowls at you while you collapse in a fit of laughter. You're lucky he loves you so much. Anyone else wouldn't have survived past the first nickname. But make no mistake; he will get back at you for teasing him like that.

Bubba Sawyer

Drayton told you to call Bubba up for dinner. So you just open the door to the lower level and call out:"Bubsy! Darling! It's dinnertime!"

A few feet behind you, you hear Drayton choke on his drink and Chop Top burst out laughing.

Bubba immediately rushes up the stairs, a lovestruck grin on his face. Once he reaches you at the top of the stairs, he gives you a tight bear-hug and a loving kiss. He *loves* cheesy nicknames, and you love how happy they make him.

"Not in front of your brothers, Bubs", you remind him with a chuckle and give him one last peck on the cheek before sitting down at the table together. Drayton isn't a big fan of your relationship in general but he accepts it as long as you keep the PDA to a minimum.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms doesn't mind cutesy nicknames overall… except for one. You learn that the hard way.

You're busy with chores, humming to yourself and looking up when he enters the room. You smile at him.

"Oh hey, Brahmsey."

His eyes widen and his entire body tenses up. Then he spins around and rushes out, and before you can follow him, you hear something being thrown against a wall. You are, of course, familiar with Brahms' outbursts. But you are kind of lost on what caused this one. Did you forget a rule?

You continue what you were doing until the ruckus from the other corner of the house stops. Only then do you put aside your work and go check on Brahms.

You find him in his hideout, feathers from ripped pillows and splinters of wood and porcelain shards still stuck on his clothes and in his hair.

"You will leave me", he says accusingly, before you even have a chance to ask what happened. "Greta called me Brahmsey, and she left me."

Oh.

"Brahms… darling." You sit with him and let him lean on you. "I will never, ever leave you. I promise."

[cupiohearts]

AND NOW IM OFF TO THE RACES ?! - pointing out moles with ace, malleus, and vil

( NOT PROOF READ :3)

ACE is obnoxious. he might be your boyfriend but sometimes you feel like decking him in the face sometimes. "hey dont roll your eyes at me!" he says as you switch out of your jacket for the fifth time. you hear his back hit the bed. (it was a very loud screech since your bed is hard as rocks)

"gah!" he brings his body off the bed and deliver a small punch to it "crowley needs to get you a new bed."

"and a new budget" you chime in. sighing as you go through your closet filled with clothes. not like you bought them yourself. it was from kalim, and vil- and just about every other rich student on campus buying you things.

"oh come on! we're gonna be late to riddle's unbirthday party!" he whines as he stares at your back.

"hes not gonna get angry at me. im his favourite now shut up and tell me which looks better!"

you expected him to reply with a sassy comment like he normally does. but youre met with silence. "ace?" you ask as you pause and stare at the ceiling with a raised eyebrow.

after a moment of silence, his voice can be heard in something just slightly above a whisper. "did you know you have a mole on your back? its right-" he gets off the bed. it makes a slight creak as he moves towards you. "here" he finishes.

his finger touching a spot in the middle of your back just a bit to the right. you turn your body around to attempt to look at it.

"i cant see it obviously! my head doesnt spin 360 dummy" you flick his forehead. "now stop looking at my back and focus on the clothes!"

he mimicks your voice in a more high pitched tone before going back to sitting on the bed. "you should show me more of your moles. its like finding shells on beaches."

you were forced to sit down as VIL does your skincare. "i dont think i wanna do this.. im so tired." you complain to your boyfriend.

"close your potato otherwise youll get a mouthful of foam" he commands you while he starts to lather the foam all over your face. you sigh as you close your eyes, feeling the motion of his hands on your face. rubbing in whatever product he was using.

the feeling of his hands circling your cheeks and then back to your forehead and then your chin almost made you fall asleep if it wasnt for the cold water hitting your face.

you opened one eye as you feel his fingers poke at your face. "hm? what the heck why did you poke me!" you say as you open both your eyes and huff at him.

unfortunately he had placed your hands in a covering because he was also putting hand masks on your hands.

he raised an eyebrow at you. geez he was so hot. "i didnt realize you had a mole there prefect" he says as he looks more closely at it. "well yeah- its tiny" you say as you pull your head a bit away from his face. sweating bullets at the sight of the queen himself looking at the mole you had.

"its cute." he simply states before slapping your face with some cream again.

perhaps he thought you didnt realize how his fingers seemed to pay special attention to your mole everytime. whenever he gives you goodbye kisses when the bell rings, he leaves a ring of lipstick around your mole.

he notices it if you cover it up with some makeup or what not. a frown getting on his face as he immediantly swipes at what covers it.

"why did you cover it? its a lovely place for a mole. you shouldnt cover it up. did you know theres a myth that moles appear when our past lover had kissed up before?" he asks you while his eyes were still focused on the mark.

MALLEUS notices your mark when he looks at your foot while you two relax at the lake. he notices it every single day, discreetly (or not) staring at it whenever you go on your rambles about your day or possibly how annoying ace and deuce can get sometimes.

you know he noticed at first because he paused mid conversation to lower his gaze down your foot. it took him a minute or two to snap out of it and stop blanking out on you but the good deed was done.

after that day you decided that his gaze on your foot started to freak you out a bit more so you suggested less water and more shoes rather than sandals.

you didn't think he would notice but while you two hung out in your spot after a week or two. he would start staring down at the spot where he knows where your mole is. he specificallly remembers it and frown.

"child of man take off your shoes"

"tsunotarou we talked about this you cant steal my shoes i only have one pair"

he shakes his head this time. kneeling down at your feet as he slips your slippers off. slipper because you wore them to feel comfortable at night. his hands holding your foot in his hands while your shoe is in your other one.

you gasp and try to take your shoe back from him. your hands no match for his years of experience from doing bits of swordfighting however.

"tsunotarou i need my shoes back! my foot is cold" you whine to him.

"but the dot. you have a beauty mark on your foot"

darn his sad dragon eyes. you wouldve probably hurled a rock at him if he wasnt so naive and confused. you poor poor soul malleus.

"yes i have beauty mark on my foot i have them everywhere on my body tsunotarou. now give me back my shoe" you say with a furrowed eyebrow and a frown etched onto your face huffing.

he lights up at this. the opposite of what you wanted (what you really wanted were those slippers in his hands).

after that day he did give you your slipper back but he started to inspect your body. not as creepy as it seems but whenever he thinks youre distracted he looks everywhere on your body for a darker spot.

god forbid you allow him to do this with free will. sometimes whenever he thinks he hit jackpot on finding a new one, he pulls on your clothes tugging it down or off to look at it without it being obstructed.

youve had very awkward stares about this that you dont wish to describe.

[mattsturniolosmuse]

Percy Jackson x Reader

Another one of the poll smuts. Only one more to go!

Summary: You are a daughter of Ares, and are constantly fighting with Percy. You two hate each other. One night, you guys are doing patrol after hours in the big house, and quickly hide in a closet as 2 demigods start f*cking in front of you.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, spanking, semi public sex, dom!percy and sub!reader, enemies to lovers

"Fuck off, Percy!" You yell, storming away towards your cabin. You had had enough of him. He was constantly drenching your clothes with water, even if they were outside, drying already.

To get your mind off of Percy, you decided to clean your cabin. Being the cabin leader, that was your responsibility. You started picking up broken spears and pencils off of the floor, but something underneath your bed caught your eye.

You reached under and pulled out a seashell. You admired it, turning it around your palm. You knew, it was Percy's. No one else here is a son of Poseidon. You hastily shoved it in your pocket as some of your siblings entered the cabin.

"Oi, Y/N, you're on big house patrol tonight." Clarisse told you. You nod, standing up.

"With who?" You ask.

"Silena, Percy, and Charlie." She says. I throw the pencil in my hand at the wall. It clanks against the metal bull head and falls to the floor, rolling under the desk.

"Ah. With Percy, huh?" Clarisse asks you, patting your back and leaving the cabin.

>>>><<<<

"I'm not happy with it either, Dick Wagon." You snap.

"Whatever. Let's go check out the kitchen." Percy says, leading the way. You mock him as you follow behind.

You step inside the door behind Percy, and he grabs your hand and leads you into the closet.

"What the fu-" You started, but was interrupted by Percy's hand covering your mouth. You stare out the crack of the closet, and see Charlie leading Silena down onto the table, his lips smashing onto hers.

"Gotta be quiet, baby." Charlie said to her, removing her top.

Your chest was heaving, you hated small spaces. Percy removes his hand from your mouth, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

Charlie was now eating Silena out.

"G-god, Charlie, it feels so good!" Silena moans out, bucking her hips into Charlie's face.

You felt something poking against your lower back. You roll your eyes, but you couldn't ignore the wet patch in your panties as Percy's grip tightens on your waist.

"P-percy..." You whisper.

"Mhm?" He responds.

"Please fuck me." You say, face flushing from embarassment.

"Gladly." Percy says, spinning you around and gently pressing you against the wall and capturing your lips in his.

No matter how much you hated Percy, you needed this moment with him. You knew how you felt about as soon as he had his hand covering your mouth.

Percy's tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, letting his tongue clash against yours. You whimper quietly, but it wouldn't matter anyways, Silena's moans were loud enough to mask the sound of you and Percy.

Percy ruts his hips into yours, his cock brushing against your clothes pussy.

"Percy, just hurry up." You say. He shimmies your pants and underwear down your legs, and you kick them off. He unzips your hoodie, pulling it off, and throwing it behind him.

You work on his jeans while he attempts to unclasp your bra, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You chuckle, unclasping it yourself. Percy lifts his Camp-Half blood t-shirt over his head.

"Any safe words?" He asks, and your eyes widen.

"Uh- blueberry." You say. Percy nods.

"Jump." He demands. You do, and he grabs your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. His cock slips in between your folds. You throw your head back, hitting it against the rock wall behind you. You yelp.

"Shh, pretty baby." Percy says, placing his hand on the back of your head to act as a pillow. He begins thrusting in and out of you, and you moan loudly. Percy pushes his lips against yours to quiet you.

"Yes, daddy!" Silena moans from outside. You laugh into Percy's mouth, and he laughs too.

"Why don't you try that?" Percy asks. You smirk.

"Make me feel good first." You say. He begins to thrust faster, and your eyes roll back. He uses his other hand to draw circles into the bundle of nerves while he fucked you.

"Yes, Percy!" You moan, attaching your lips to his neck. You bite his neck, and Percy whimpers. You dig your nails into his back, causing him to go even faster. He takes you off of the wall and lays you down on the floor, your legs still wrapped around his waist as he fucks you into the floor.

"Come on. Call me daddy, pretty baby." Percy moans, flipping you over as he fucks you doggy style.

The floor was uncomfortable, so Percy stops to fold up some of the clothes on the floor, placing them beneath your head. He begins fucking you again.

"Call me daddy!" Percy moans, slapping your ass. He fastens his pace.

"I'm so close, Percy." You moan, clenching around him. Percy moans sinfully.

"Not letting you cum. Not until you call me - gods - daddy." He says, squeezing your boobs from beneath you.

"Fine! Daddy, please let me cum. Please." You moan out.

"Again." Percy says, smacking your ass another time.

"Daddy! F-feels so good." You moan out.

"Good girl." Percy says, getting sloppy.

"I need to cum, daddy." You moan.

"Go." Percy says. You clench around him before releasing all over his cock. He pistons his hips into you a few more times before shooting his load inside of you. But he doesn't stop.

"P-percy, s' too much." You moan.

"Take it from daddy." Percy says, grabbing your hips and pulling them into him with each thrust. He loved the sight of your cheeks wobbling every time they made contact with his waist.

Your mewls and moans were too much for Percy. He dreamt of you all the time in this state, and now that it was happening, he wanted to savor the moment.

"I-it hurts!" You squeal.

"Do you want me to stop? Say the safe word, pretty baby." Percy says, kissing your back.

You didn't want him to stop, so you didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." Percy says.

"I'm close." You moan.

"M-me too," Percy adds. A few moments later, he releases inside of you, once again. He milks out his high, you cumming soon after. He pulls out of you, and he helps you sit up. He bites his lip when he sees your face.

Your lips were swollen, from both kissing and biting. Mascara was dripping down your face, and your cheeks were flushed. He laid you down on your back and kisses you gently.

He searches around for his jeans, grabbing a phone out of the pocket.

"You're not supposed to have one of those." You say. You notice that it was silent outside now. Silena and Charlie must have finished.

"I need it if I want to do this." Percy says, snapping a photo of you and your fucked out expression.

Percy pauses.

"I-i love you." He whispers. You chuckle, finding your hoodies and grabbing the seashell out of the pocket. You hold it out to him.

"Me too."

[enkvyu]

☆ ┈ WORST CASE SCENARIO

your academic rivalry with gojo has just secured you another win, continuing your victory streak. but gojo’s hiding something and when you find out, the worst thing that could happen is not just you saying no

wc: 1900+

"so." you start, spinning around in your seat as the bustle of the classroom heightens, the teacher having stepped out temporarily to grab the rest of the papers. your eyes lock onto your classmate sitting behind you, his blue eyes widening slightly at the abrupt introduction, before you smack your test results down on his table. 

a bright red number glares up at gojo from the page and he raises an eyebrow. "what's this?"

"my mark." you couldn’t hide the pride in your voice even if you had tried. “the first rank’s mark, i would assume, since i’m probably top of the class. again.”

your classmate waves away your brag, sitting back with an air of confidence. “if you’re so sure.”

“you’re that confident you’ll beat me?”

“it wouldn’t be too hard.”

you scoff. “really? what’s been stopping you from beating me these past few exams, then?”

“i just didn’t want to burst your happy bubble.”

“piss off, don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.”

gojo only shrugs, lazy smirk on his face and you have to bite your tongue to hold back the barrage of insults brewing in the back of your throat. “screw you, gojo. just wait until you get your mark and we’ll see who’s still smiling then.”

as if summoned, your teacher passes by, sending gojo a glance you can’t decipher no matter how much you squint. they place his paper face down on his desk, ready to be scrutinised.

you wait patiently as its picked up, time almost slowing to a halt. you immediately ditch the idea of reading the score through the back of the sheet and instead, you observe gojo’s facial expressions knowing they’ll give it all away even before he says anything. no matter how hard he might lie, the truth is painted as clear as day on his face, the only true outlet of his emotions. 

and was that hesitation as gojo picks it up, his face just barely surpassing the fleeting expressions that flicker past? shock, perhaps? and maybe you were hallucinating but was that, disappointment?

gojo’s eyes scan the paper before he slams it back down, loud thud causing you to blink. his hand comes up to cover his mouth, leg bouncing.

the corners of your lip wavers.

his eyes seem to escape yours.

“what did you get, gojo?” you ask, slowly, carefully.

the boy sucks in a breath, finding something particularly interesting in the far corner of the classroom. he murmurs something incoherent. 

you tilt your head. “what was that?”

“i said,” he hisses. “you win.”

a giggle trickles out of your mouth, before full blown laughter escapes you. you lean back against the edge of your table, holding the chuckles back into your mouth with your hand but its not enough, and its leaks out without remorse.

gojo finally turns back to look at you, huffing as you so clearly tease him. “what the, stop laughing.”

“where did your cocky attitude go? weren’t you just telling me how you let me win all these years? you’re a bad liar, gojo!” you continue laughing even as you turn back around at the call of your teacher, his frustrated face engraved in your mind.

the teacher knocks twice on their table, signifying the beginning of the lesson. the class settles into a serene quiet though there’s a feeling of gloom and doom. not from you, of course, not after winning against your life long academic rival. 

getou leans across his table toward gojo, lowering his voice as he whispers. “you should probably tell them before it’s too late.”

gojo sighs, cradling his cheek with his palm, the anger on his face melting off like a liquid mask. he watches you chatter quietly to your seatmate, sometimes waving your hands in muted excitement and sometimes rubbing the back of your friend’s hand in comfort. “but look at them! they’re so happy when they’re ignorant.”

“i have no idea how you managed to fool them to begin with. especially when i’m actually the second rank. i feel like i got scammed.” he mumbles the last bit.

“me neither. imagine my surprise when they suddenly came up accusing me of being first rank on the first exam we had in our first year.” gojo pauses. “now that i think about it, they probably saw my 49 as a 99.”

“... on the revision exam?”

“yeah.”

“dude.”

gojo shrugs. “it’s either this, or i do something else to try and get them to pay attention to me. and hey, when life gives you lemons, right?”

“i think it’ll be easier if you just confessed.”

“they would reject me in a heartbeat.”

“true.”

getou bites back a scream, swatting away gojo’s hand as gojo pinches his thigh under the table. he sends the white haired student a glare.

“i don’t need a friend that doesn’t support me.” gojo justifies, snickering underneath his breath. 

“i was keeping it real!”

the teacher turns their back to the board. “getou.” they warn, eyes picking out the long haired student chattering shamelessly. 

he immediately quietens, feeling the class’s attention turn on him. when they all finally look away, getou rams his heel into gojo’s foot.

“ow!”

this time, instead of the teacher turning around, you look back from your chair and send them both a withering look. your eyes slide from getou to gojo, slightly surprised when you find him already looking. 

shock quickly melts into triumph and you bare your teeth at him, not even bothering to hide your elation. you wonder why he only quietly smiles, remaining still even when provoked. 

you turn back around before the teacher can pick on you, your victory slightly dampened with confusion.

“you should just confess. what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“they say no.” gojo mumbles, and the words alone is enough to dim his mood. 

getou is quick to catch it. “that’s all though, isn’t it? the worst thing that can happen is them saying no.”

still unconvinced, gojo flickers his gaze onto you, imagining what it’ll be like if you ever stopped talking to him, even if you only spoke to him briefly now. 

“god, you are so hopeless.” getou says into the silence that follows. 

“what’d you say?” gojo sighs dreamily, giddy smile adorning his face as he looks on at you, his previous feelings literal seconds prior already forgotten. you really were his remedy. 

at the same time, you itch your back, feeling something prickly. 

getou rolls his eyes. “you need to come clean sooner or later.”

“i pick later.” he sits up slightly, the lovesick gaze disappearing as he glares over at his friend. “what’s it to you anyway?”

“i’m just looking out for you, man. what will you do if they find out you’ve been lying to them all this time?” 

getou’s words unfortunately have some truth to it, and perhaps it’s because gojo’s still not over getou slamming his foot on his, that he ignores that truth. “whatever.” he says, returning to his daily habit of watching you. 

if he had listened to getou then, would things have been different? would you not have arrived by his desk first thing next morning, gojo seeing first your black shoes by the legs of his table, then the deep crease between your brows? would he have seen the embarrassed flush in your cheeks, admired the fact you’re still looking him right in the eye despite it all? would he have traced the movement of your pretty lips as you spoke, fantasised about the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, your hands on his body, his—

would he have felt the palm of your hand as you slapped him?

“that’s for being shameless enough to not even have excuses.” you hiss, and he realises a second too late that he had only been staring at you, falling into his subconscious habit. “since you have nothing to say now, i hope you never speak to me again.”

“wait!” gojo manages to say, jumping up from his seat when you start to walk away. 

you stop, offering him one last chance. it’s early morning and gojo’s blessed with having a small audience, but with every single eye digging into him, digging out every last piece of potential gossip, even the all powerful gojo feels tongue tied. 

still, he can’t miss this opportunity. this was the time to apologise. he’s never been good at it before, but he’s seen enough of the exes-to-lovers trope in movies to know that a good apology begins with “sorry.” so with all attention on him, yours the most important one of course, gojo opens his mouth and says,

“i like you.”

shocked silence fills the room and a single “oh my god” is heard from your best friend shoko as she pops out the lollipop in her mouth to comment. 

gojo doesn’t care about any of it, he never would, not when the only thing that matters was you. 

you feel heat rush through your entire body, starting as uncomfortable pricks on your back and the underneath of your arms before warming even your face. “what?”

“hm?” he asks, intelligently. 

your hand flexes as if ready to send another slap your way and honestly, gojo might be anticipating it.

“you think i’m joking?” you seethe. 

“no, i’m being serious!”

“you like me?”

gojo blinks. “is that what i said? i thought i said sorry.”

shoko can’t help herself, she giggles into her hand. 

the noise wakes you up for the haze and you grit your teeth to stop yourself from cursing out gojo’s name. he did think this was a joke after all, treating the matter so lightheartedly as if he hadn’t lied to you all these years, as if he hadn’t made you look forward to your stupid rivalry, as if he hadn’t left you speechless the very first moment you locked eyes that day in first year, as if you hadn’t pulled any excuse out of your ass to start a conversation. 

the class finally makes noise again, and whispers echo in your ear.it causes your head to spin. 

“you are a jerk.” you force yourself to say through the anger, hoping the sudden liquid in your eyes could be explained away as a yawn (it can’t be).balling your hands into fists, you dig your nails into your hand such that the pain can distract you from the embarrassment. “i am so serious when i say this, never talk to me again, creep!”

and then, before he can catch your arm, you leave, whirlwind left in your wake. 

gojo’s hand pauses in the air, like a sim having their action canceled when they were already on the way doing it. eventually, he reaches up to hold his cheek. it’s warm under his touch though he’s unsure if it’s pain that makes it hot, or his unreciprocated feelings. 

in a daze, gojo sits back into his seat.not even a minute later, the door slides open again but it’s not you this time. gojo’s mood sours slightly as getou walks through, hope evaporated.  

getou’s eyebrows shoot up when he sees gojo pouting at his desk. “you’re early for once.” his eyes don’t meet gojo’s, and the white haired boy sighs. 

“just say it.”

getou laughs loudly. “what happened to you?”

“they slapped me.”

getou doesn’t even need to ask who, already picturing the scene in his head. “and?”

“the worst thing they could happen is not them saying no.”

guys this sucks i miss gojo so bad . rlly random but i had a dream abt him this morning LOL let’s js say that this had to be inspired from smth !! ignore the change in formats i got tired of the timestamps 😵

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5EyqjvSs_h/?igsh=MTV5dmt0OWUyYmVneg==

(I'm sending this to all ghost writers I can find because I want everybody to see this)

Bestie. You have no idea what you just started.

THIS is my favorite thing ever now.

I couldn't resist writing something!!

Just imagine attending a ball, and this mysterious man shows up with that skull mask?? It's giving phantom of the opera, and I live for it!!!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Phantom of the Ball

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The large, shining chandeliers almost blinded you, the bright sparkle emitted from them making you keep your head lower. The ball had been dragging on for hours and, as fun as it looked, actually dancing for 4 hours without having anyone to converse with was more a curse than a blessing.

You swore your corset had tightened over the course of the evening and the many alcoholic beverages were doing little to refresh you. Your feet were starting to hurt, not only from dancing but from more than one clumsy man stepping on them, with no chair in sight.

The small crystals embroidered on your skirt had all your attention now as your gloved fingers fiddled with them.

At least it would pass the time faster, you supposed.

Unfortunately, your peace was quickly disturbed when someone ran into you, making you stumble forward. With a scoff on your lips you were swiftly pulled into the dance circle, your head spinning as you were hastily swirled around and passed off to the next man.

There were no pleasantries exchanged as you merely had time to catch your breath, trying to keep up with the pace, before the spiel repeated itself and you were meet with another unfamiliar face.

You were spun around like a dreidl, blinking to stop yourself from becoming too dizzy and falling.

Within the flash of a moment, there was a black wall in front of you. Gasps and murmurs filled the room, and the music slowly died down as all eyes were curiously set on the tall stranger.

He was dressed in the finest silks and velvets, all in black, setting a strong contrast to the creams, beiges, and whites everyone else sported. You craned your neck to take a better look at him, only to be met with an elegant mask, resembling a skull.

He peered down on you in an intimidating manner, sending a, surprisingly, pleasant shiver up your spine. You stared in amazement at the fringe at the bottom of his mask, making up the teeth of the skull.

They were still for now, but you wondered how they'd behave once he'd move. A quick glance around the room made you aware how many couples had taken a few steps back from the dance floor, leaving you and the mysterious man, quite literally, at the center of attention.

"May I?"

He broke the suffocating silence. Despite the roughness of his voice, there was no ill intent to be found towards you, only gentle words.

He held out his hand for you to take, wearing gloves that mimicked skeletal hands made up of various beads, embroidery and pearls.

There was a breath stuck in your throat, you only managed to nod, taking his offered hand. You gasped softly when he pulled you close to him, a firm hand on your waist as he gently cupped your hand in his large one.

He began moving, quite gracefully for someone his size. The music picked back up and, although hesitant, more and more couples joined in on the dance.

You were positively enchanted by this man, watching intently as the fringe at the bottom of his mask moved like a chime in the wind. You managed to make out a pair of mesmerizing brown eyes behind the mask. They made you feel hot and cold at the same time, adding to the exciting feeling in your chest.

He guided you with ease, almost making you float as he twirled you around like a delicate porcelain doll in a music box. Your hand fit into his so perfectly.

You wondered if the soft and rich fabrics he wore felt as pleasant underneath your fingertips as they looked, your hand resting on his shoulder. The outside world started to bleed and fade away as your thoughts were only occupied with him.

There were so many questions and mysteries surrounding the man. It made your heart swell with curiosity.

Before you could inquire more information about your strange suitor, he vanished. His hand slipped from your waist, and although his hand lingered in yours just a moment longer, it was gone in the blink of an eye.

He'd left you alone in the center of the ruckus of obnoxiously large skirts and clacking heels. You turned in every direction, hoping to catch a glimpse of where he went.

The mass made you feel suffocated as they seemed to close in on you. You whipped around like a whirlwind, your eyes flitting over every possible exit.

You managed to see an all too familiar skeleton hand slipping from the doorframe, and determination boiled up inside of you like never before.

You hiked up your many skirts, swiftly ducking under swinging arms and spinning around dancing couples. Your chest was heaving with heavy breaths when you managed to escape, but there was no time to rest.

You continued on, rushing through the door you saw him last. Your skirts rustled, your shoes clacked against the floor, and your breaths were labored as you ran down the long and empty hallway, keeping an eye out for the mysterious skeleton man.

Maybe you should be scared, running from him and not after him.

But there was something so intoxicating about his presence. His gentle touch, the deep, rough voice that you wanted to soothe with honey. And those intriguing brown eyes that held more secrets for you to uncover.

He was like an opioid, making you addicted after the first taste, to have you coming back until the end of time.

Your chase brought you to the moonlit courtyard of the estate.

You leaned forward, hoping to get more air into your lungs.

Damned corset.

Taking a rest on a stone bench, you looked around the blooming courtyard, admiring the many varieties of beautiful flowers. It smelled sweet, a tense fragrance having in the air like a heavy fog.

You were burning up from running, but the chilly evening breeze made you shiver. It was eerily quiet, only a few cicadas and crickets singing their songs for the summer.

You listened closely, hoping the stranger had tried to find some peace here.

You perked up when the crunching of grass under heavy footsteps reached your ears. You quickly rose from your seat and rounded the large hedge.

Your breath for caught in your throat when you spotted his broad back, calmly admiring the red roses, it seemed.

Unfortunately, the man had noticed you and made an effort to swiftly disappear into the night.

"Wait!" You reached out your hand, making him stop in his tracks.

"At least tell me your name." You pleaded, carefully stepping closer, as if not to scare away a wild animal.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly before he turned to face you, looming over you once again.

"They call me Ghost." He answered lowly, looking down on you with caution.

"Will I see you again?" You urged, stepping even closer.

His entire presence was pulling you in. You truly had no control.

You could've sworn you saw an amused glint in his eyes.

"I'll come back to you." He sounded sincere and soft as he spoke.

"Do you promise?" Your brows were pulled together as you swallowed, the urge to touch him twitching in your fingertips.

He glanced to the side before expertly plucking one of the deep red roses off the bush. He offered it you, and you gladly took it, being careful of any thorns.

"I promise." He said softly, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

In an unexpected move, he gently took your unoccupied hand and slipped off your glove, making you gasp.

He proceeded to gently take your hand and guide it under his mask, the pearly fringe brushing your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your face was burning up, your heart pounding inside your ribcage.

He slipped his hand from yours again, making yours twitch in an attempt to keep his touch. He chuckled deeply, a fondness in his eyes you would never expect from someone like him.

You swallowed thickly as you glanced down towards the rose he'd gifted you. The aroma was strong. It made your head spin.

When you looked up again, though, he was gone, only the dark sky adorned by twinkling stars staring back at you.

Like a phantom, he disappeared into the night, only leaving you clutching your glove, the flower in the other hand, and a promise you hoped he'd keep.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I am in love with this!!! Tootin' my own horn, I know...

Anyway, let me know what you think! 👀

🩷

More of my works -> 💫

[millyhelp]

I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS 😂

Dumb Girlfriend.

I just cleaned my bathroom. If you are Brazilian, you will know that we mix several chemical products to clean the bathroom, and well, it was no different for me. I did it and almost died from chlorine poisoning, so I thought, why not write about it?? Im dumb, I know it

warnings: Chemicals, worried Jason, somewhat stubborn reader, mentions of death (may be seen as Brazilian or not).

You and Jason used to share household chores. Nothing too elaborate, just helping each other. But there was one thing you liked to do, clean the bathroom.

And today was Wednesday. House cleaning day. Jason was cleaning the dust off the furniture in the living room and you were cleaning the bathroom in your bedroom.

Chlorine, disinfectant, detergent, fabric softener and something white that you forgot the name of. All of these products you was using to clean the bathroom.

Lastly, you added some water and started scrubbing. It was so customary to do this since you were a teenager that you didn't even care anymore. You started to scrub the floor hard, removing all the mud and dirt you found. Of course it worked, but your eyes started to burn. You didn't care, it was normal.

You continued to scrub, fast and hard, the floor and walls. The strong smell of chemicals started to enter yours nostrils very quickly.

Your head started to spin and you felt like you were losing air. To help, the bathroom didn't have any windows.

As despair covered your mind, you ran to the bathroom door and opened it quickly.

"Jason!" was the last thing you screamed before passing out.

Upon hearing your scream, Jason became worried. He quickly ran to the room and panic covered his face when he saw you on the floor.

"Yn! What happened?!" He took you in his arms and shook your face lightly. He smelled a strong smell of chemicals coming from the bathroom. "Oh God..."

Jason walked with you in his arms to the bed and laid you down on it.

"Princess, wake up, please." Jason caressed your face with his thumb.

You were out for a good 5 minutes. Jason was already thinking about taking you to the hospital, but before he could pick you up again, you started to open your eyes.

"Are you there? Huh?" He asked looking at your eyes opening. He was checking every part of your face for any reaction.

"Jay..." You whispered and then started laughing. Jason looked at you in disbelief and confusion. "I fainted?"

"Yes! Why are you laughing?" He frowned "You could have died! What did you put in there?"

"Calm down, Jaybird..." You felt yourself on the bed with his help. His head was still spinning. You have one last laugh. "I already do this with..." you look into Jason's eyes "often?"

Jason gave you a stern look.

"Are you trying to kill yourself or something?!" He said in a stern voice, the red hood's voice. You shivered.

"No..." You lowered your head "It's not the first time it's happened..."

"What?!" Jason runs his hand through his hair "You kidding, right?"

You shake your head and Jason sighs.

"Do not do that again." He grabs your face with both hands and makes you look at him "Fuck, just... don't do it! You should at least wear protective gear! I don't know what it would be like if I lost you!"

"I'm sorry, Jay..." You bite your lip and look into his pleading eyes. You can see the fear in him.

"Just... use protection when doing these things. Masks, gloves, glasses, anything!" He kissed you sweetly. "Don't scare me like that again!" He placed his forehead on yours

"I won't." You gave a small smile

"My stubborn little girl." He smiled, "What do I do with you?..."

In fact, he already knew he was going to do it.

[mushies-stories]

Could you write one with konig coming home all beat up and sore and his new plus size gf gives him a massage? Thank you!

do i know how to give a massage? no, BUT i did try my darndest. I'm also plus sized, but short XD i hope you like it! thank you for the request! <3

Authors note: this is also my first time writing for König and I do not at all know German so thanks google aha. If anything is wrong or something doesn’t fit right, let me know please!

König X plus sized Reader

König’s body ached and his mind was tired. Thanks to his last mission he had a very long and rough past few days and just wanted to sleep. With a heavy sigh he unlocked his apartment and pushed through the door with his shoulder. From the hall he saw the kitchen light on and froze for just a moment before he heard your soft humming. A smile came to his lips as he kicked his boots off.

Abandoning his duffle bag by the door he made it to the kitchen without another sound. Not like it would have mattered, you hadn’t even noticed him coming home. He leaned against the door frame, body taking up most of the space while he watched you fuss about the kitchen. You were cleaning and putting dishes away. Swaying your hips and humming along to a song in your head you were completely oblivious to König's wandering eyes. He loved your curved, plump ass and thighs he always found himself groping. 

He had given you a key so if you needed anything while he was away or needed somewhere to go you could go there. In this moment he was grateful to himself. He was getting to see you like this, in his home and caring for him.

You had been so busy with cleaning up after cooking dinner for König so he had something when he got home, assuming it would be really late like he told you. 

It was only when you were finally done and put the last utensil away that you noticed him. Spinning on your heel to leave the kitchen you're started by your boyfriend towering in the doorway. You let out a high pitched yelp and hold your chest over your heart. "König! You scared me!” you gasp. “And what are you doing home so early?” you ask, looking up at him with a raised brow. 

“Tut mir leid.” he apologies and pushes off the door, taking the short stride to you. “Mission went better than I thought it would, got home early.” he mumbles and wrapped one arm around your shoulder and the other on the back of your head to bring you into him. 

Your head rests against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It told you he was alive and safe with you for the moment. “I made you dinner, I just wanted to make sure you ate something decent when he got back.” you told him. The relationship was still new and you didn’t want to push any boundaries by stepping into his space too much. 

“Liebling, it makes my heart warm knowing you care so much to do something like that.” he tells you and kisses the top of your head through the fabric. He really was happy, seeing you here after a long grueling mission set him at ease. He was more thankful for the meal, even if at the moment the only thing his body wanted to do was rest. “Need to shower first.” he says and goes to turn for the bathroom. 

Your hand wrapping around his forearm halts his movements and he looks back down to you, eyes questioning. You give him a shy smile and reach your hands up to the loose fabric of his mask and tug softly, silently asking permission to remove it. You wanted to kiss him, feel his lips since he had been away for a while. Reluctantly he nodded, not wanting to deny you when you looked up at him with big eyes and fluttery lashes. He lowered his head so you could slide it over his head. You set it down on the counter behind you and gasped softly. Brining your fingers to graze over your cheek you frown. He had a few bruises on his cheek and neck, clearly leading under his shirt. He got beat up badly this time around.

His hand engulfed your own then he tilted his head enough to kiss the palm of your hand. “I'm okay Liebling, no need to worry.” he whispers against your skin. 

Your frown never leaves but your heart does skip a beat, he was so soft with you. Even when he was in pain and beaten he stood before you being as gentle and caring as always. Shaking your head you take his hand in yours and start leading him to his bedroom. 

“What is it, Hase?” he asks.

Once you're in his room you let his hand go point to the bed. “Shirt off and on the bed.” you tell him. You know he's not normally one to take orders but he was also a stubborn man, something you learned early on. So, you thought being stern was your best bet since both of you knew you could do him no real harm. 

He cocked a brow at you and looked from the bed to you uncertain. He was still dirty, patched up but he didn't want to take the time to shower on base and came straight home. 

You noticed the look of worry in his eyes and chuckle with a shake of your head. “I'm going to give you a message, then you can take a hot shower and let your musicals relax.” you tell him and crawl into the bed, sitting on your knees. You motioned for him to hurry with a small smile. “Let me help take care of you König, please?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey.

He looked at your plush thighs as you sat. He thought being buried between them would be just as relaxing but he wanted to let you help him however you wanted, either way he would be right here with you. “Alright Hase.” he smiled and the plain black hoodie he had on over his head and dragged his undershirt with it. You contained your look of dislike over the bruises covering his body. You knew he was strong, tough and they just showed you just how well he would protect you… they also meant he was in danger more often than not and that thought scared you. He grounded when he finally relaxed onto the bed. He leaned back a little so he could turn and look at you. “Liebling, it’s really not that bad, just a little sore.” he made another attempt at reassuring you. He knows how bad it looks and just because he was used to it doesn’t mean you were, or really ever would be. 

You smile softly and nudge his shoulders to sit forward. “Hush, just sit there and relax.” you tell him with a little chuckle. Slowly your hands start to smooth over his back, locating the new cuts you found and giving each one a little kiss. 

König let out a content sigh and let his shoulders relax. His muscles loosened up a little too with just your sweet lips on his skin. Taking one more look over his back and shoulders for any you may have missed you started to really give him a message. Pressing your palms into his back and smoothing them up and over his shoulders. you take care to be gentle around any bruises and welts. When you hear a soft groan and see his head tilt forward, hanging lower and much more relaxed, your heart melts. 

The room is quiet for a while you work the knots from his shoulders. His breathing was slow and steady and from what you could see of his face, he had his eyes closed and his lips parted just a little. He was falling asleep.

Leaning up you press a tender kiss to his shoulder and his eyes flutter open. “Falling asleep on me?” you tease with another kiss to his bruised skin.

He nods and turns his body around enough to scoop you into his arms and bring you to his lap. You tried to swat at his hands and protest, telling him he was hurt and shouldn’t be lifting you but just ignored you and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “tut mir leid, your hands felt so good, puttin me to sleep.” he mumbles, his arms wrapped around your cushy middle. 

You lean your head on his and rake your fingers through his short hair. “Alright, go shower so you can get some rest.” you tell him and pat his shoulder. For a moment he doesn't move but when he does it's with you in his arms and is heading for the bathroom. “König, what are you doing?” you giggle sweetly.

“M’still sore, need you.” he says.

And that was that. König soon became accustomed to your skilled hands whenever he came home from a tough mission. Which meant you stayed over more and more, even while he way away. Soon permanently, he would make sure of it.

[shibaraki]

QUEST FOR YOUR HEART ┊ SHIGARAKI TOMURA

tags: GN reader, established relationship, fluffy fluff, gaming together, animal crossing!!!, cute aggression

wc: 1K+

A gentle whirring fills the room. The fan turns on its neck, blowing a soft breeze across the room, lit up mostly by the LED lights hung across the walls. You shy away from the chill by burrowing into Tomura’s hoodie, intentionally oversized and lined with fleece.

Your boyfriend is a warm, grounding weight at your back. You’re laid together on his bed, atop blankets and covers left unmade, consoles in hand. A quiet melodic tune carries through the speakers. Tomura turns to shape himself around your frame. You smile as he nuzzles the nape of your neck, lips brushing the skin there.

His words are muffled. Repeated, still unheard when he refuses to move even an inch. “Come to my island,” he mutters.

You make a soft, curious sound, too fixated on the mindless action of your little character digging hole after hole, planting new seedlings for your villagers. Frustrated, Tomura exhales out of his nose, and the short breath makes you shiver.

He tilts his head, “I said come to my island”.

“Oh,” you mumble, blinking into focus, “Okay baby”. The buttons click as your thumbs move, guiding your character towards the airport. “Are your gates already open?”

Tomura grunts an affirmative. You let your eyes flutter closed to the idle brush of his nose along the curve of your throat while the loading screen runs. When he moves away, presumably returning to his own device, you open them again. Your character ambles out into the airport, greeted by the dodo working the gates.

Tomura’s character waits outside. Their look is somewhat inspired by himself. Messy silvery blue hair, dark tattered clothes. A black mask covers the lower part of their face. You smile at the white bunny ears that sit on his head at your request. Cute.

You flick the right stick and begin to run circles around him excitedly, to which he hits you with his butterfly net. “Stop bein’ dumb and follow me,” Tomura mutters without malice, working his ankle between your legs beneath the covers. You hum and trail after him.

The island is… pristine. Not at all the way you remember it. Skilfully terraformed to resemble a Super Mario level, custom patterns and themed items laid across the land. Everything had been intentionally placed. His villagers were navigating the space happily—though he still stops to smack them all, and they spin in place, stunned.

You’re amazed. He’d only started playing alongside you a week ago after finally giving in to your pleas. Watching him play was nice and all, but you wanted something to share together. He protested that animal crossing was pointless, boring and a waste of precious time that could be otherwise spent farming. But while he might not admit it, Tomura is weak for you. A little besotted by you. A few days of whining could go a long way.

Though you can’t help feeling a twinge of petty regret. A pout pulls at your lips when you see the lily of the valley flower standing proud by the fenced entrance to the beach. You’d known he was good at video games but you hadn’t expected him to reach five stars this fast.

Just ahead, Tomura’s character skids to a stop and turns back. A musical note rings through the speakers as a blue question mark appears above their head. Tomura shifts behind you and curls in between your shoulder blades, insistently nudging his cheek to your spine.

“Hey,” his voice comes after a pregnant pause, gravely and hesitant. “You fall asleep or something?”

“No,” you mumble, tucking your face into his pillow. The mattress dips as he braces on his elbow to lean over you, crowding into your space, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you from squirming away. “Tomu—!” crimson eyes squint against his crooked grin, colour rising to his skin. He dips, snaggy teeth sinking around the swell of your cheek.

The light indentations left behind are soothed by the shameless swipe of his tongue. “Gross,” you grimace, only to be licked again. He sneers.

“I’ll lick you when I want,” he says. And then continues with some pride, “You’re sulking about my island”.

“Am not”.

“Are too,” Tomura’s forefinger pokes at your soft waist. In the dim light you can still see his pinky half raised. “Idiot. Why’d you ask me to play if you were gonna get mad at me for being better?”

“You’re not better you just time jumped,” you argue reflexively, overcome by the urge to hide in his hoodie. The upbeat tune pouring from the island softens as day turns to night and you sigh. “I’m not actually mad, baby. I don’t know. It’s just…”

Tomura hums. You suppose he would understand your incomprehensible pettiness more than anyone. Warmth encompasses your body once again as he slips his arm beneath your head, tucking his knees behind your legs, bringing his console around to hold it out above yours.

Tomura’s character slaps the floor with their net. “Come on,” he coaxes. You swallow, moving the sticks clumsily to amble after him. You’re taken along a stretch of beach. The horizon curves to reveal lines upon lines of items. Money bags and white gift boxes tied neatly with red ribbon.

“Who do you think I got so good for?” your fingers flex, startled by lips brushing the shell of your ear. He kisses you there, featherlight, enough that he could deny it. “Take all of it. Do multiple trips if you need to, I don’t care”.

“All this is for me?”

Louder, and directly into your ear, he groused, “Not gonna say it again”.

You dissolve into a fit of laughter, recoiling from his voice, game briefly forgotten. Tomura bites back a smile. He wraps his limbs around your body as though he were trying to consume you. Brings you into his chest and holds you there, locked in place, heartbeat reaching for you through his ribs.

After catching your breath, with a mouthful of his shirt you murmur, “Thanks baby”.

Above, Tomura kisses your crown and replies, “Whatever”.