#i genuinely don;t know

[nat-20s]

good luck talking with your dad! I hope it goes well but if it doesn’t, at least you were brave enough to speak up and lay things out. You can be at peace with the fact that YOU tried. anons cheering you on (:

Thank you for your support :'). I don't know exactly when he'll be coming home so that's gonna be a fun little sword of damacles over my head but I really and genuinely hoping that it goes okay. And if it doesn't um. I don't know. The thing is I really WANT to have a good relationship with my dad I don't WANT to be on the path towards estrangement I WANT us to be able to like. hang out you know. And I'm not gonna present an ultimatum in this conversation but like. If tonight goes poorly I don't really know what to do except fully start to pull away. I can't really spend that much time being around someone who's worry can manifest as being shitty and kind of mean to me you know?

[art-o-gant]

what the fuck is the janissary motif doing in the new puppetshades. genuinely i. i've not stopped thinking about this. can anybody hear me

[sho-haizono]

Okay so what type of wings do we think misha would have .

[merevide]

2 in the morning, trying to not fuck up putting on nail polish and i just remembered nat scatorccio is dead in the dirt actually not coming back going cold in the earth permanently eternally fucking DEAD. what the fuck.

[museenkuss]

I wish them all the best and hope they heal from this traumatic experience soon, but this leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. They tiktok-ified the whole process of trying for a baby, then the miscarriage, all peppered inbetween date night idea tiktoks and house rennovations content, and now they're doing a 10:11 minute vlog on the experience paired with updates on their new haircolours? Maybe this is cathargic and a way to deal with the tragedy, which is something I don't want to get involved in or speak up about at all, that's not my place in the slightest. But it just makes me think how truly terrible it is to showcase your entire life online to the point where it is now your "brand" and something to sell, since in that case, personal tragedies become content.

They genuinely seem like sweet people and again, I truly wish them all the best, but I hope that they can step back and find some peace without a phone camera involved. Some time to heal, some privacy.

[tonycries]

We Don’t Have No Babies!

Synopsis. Well, it’s a bit difficult to have no babies when they’re well and fully intent on fúcking one into you.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mentions of kids, máting press, pússydrunk boys, manhandling, marking, spitting, degradation, praise, cúmplay, the elders ugh (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. WHEWW take this as an apology gift for missing yesterday’s post date, I overslept eheheh.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - What’s another?

“Don’t hah- pass out on me yet, doll.” Toji hisses. Spreading your swollen folds further apart with his fingers, already stretched so obscenely around his swollen cock, and only trying to squeeze deeper. “What was it that brat said again?”

And you can only let out a broken whine in response - too high off the stretch and the utterly sinful pool of his cum spreading on the sheets below. It’s been like this for hours now, both of you barely lucid at this point. But you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted, not even a little bit. 

Because Toji’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, pressing down, down, down, till your knees were at your tits. Folded in half, and stuffed full beneath him. God, you weren’t going to make it out alive. 

“Oh, riiight.” he drags out, voice strained. Deceivingly innocent had it not been for that devilish grin. “He called you ‘mama’.”

And there it was - Megumi’s tiny, seemingly mindless slip-up that got you into this mess in the first place. One that had poked some raw, primal part of Toji so dangerously awake.

The one that had Toji splitting you in half with his aching cock, hips pressing so hard against yours that it almost hurts. Fucking into you in slow, languid motions of his hips, while he drinks in your sobbed out little, “Ah- Hngh- Toji, s’too much I-” 

Lazily, he thumbs open your folds even more, watching in awe at the way his seed dribbles and oozes down your thighs, seeping into the mattress. It takes him a while to form the words, too hazy from how warm and sloppy you were inside. 

“Too much?” he drawls, with the audacity to sound genuinely taken aback. “I don’t think it’s enough, ma.”

It’s the only warning you get - barely - before he laces his fingers on top of your head to take him deeper, snapping his hips harder. Sloppier. Sensitive cock stinging with sensitivity, balls squeezing painfully. It hurt, but it hurt so good. And Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum again. But he was milking his cock on your pussy like he was gonna fill you up until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“B-but m’so full.” you babble, mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! as you look down at the way you were swallowing him up so well. “Dunno if I can’t hngh- t-take anymore.” 

Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck. Because Toji was chuckling in surprise, stuck on the way you could still form coherent sentences - he had to fix that, of course. 

“Shhh. Don’ worry about it. Jus’ need to fill you up- ah, fuck a baby into ya, ma.”  he gently kisses away those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “All you gotta do is sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” 

Hand snaking down to toy with your swollen clit - frenzied, barely-circular motions just to get you off. Because shit he can’t just stuff you full of his cock without getting the mother of his future kids off, right? And he let you know, of course. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till morning comes and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-

“-m’gonna make ‘em breakfast. And you’ll dress ‘em up. We’ll read oh- them bedtime stories and-” he’s babbling so pathetically into the crook of your neck now. “-an’ tuck ‘em into bed- Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” Drunk off your pussy and the heavenly feeling of his heavy balls squeezing so dangerously, letting his hips go out of control now. “And then- hngh, and then-”

“T-then what?” you let out such cute sobs into his open mouth, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he ravages you.

“Ya really wanna know, ma?”

Somehow, his words have you squeezing around him so good. Enough that it’s almost difficult to move inside you. Enough that Toji doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming and cumming so hard that you’re bloated with his seed. Squelching out of your quivering pussy and soaking his cock as he doesn’t even think of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy, teeth latching onto your earlobe as he holds you still for him. 

“And then…” Toji’s hot breath fans your face, voice guttural and sounding like he was losing a little bit of his sanity with each thrust. Hips moving again and again to fuck his cum deeper into you. “And then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Lonely? No problem!

“Aww, m’sorry. Did I make you feel lonely, my love?” Kissing your lips softly, running his hands all over the pretty lil’ lace covering your body - just barely, of course. “Did I leave my pretty lil’ wife all alone in this big house?” 

You give him a pouty little nod, and oh does that do something to Nanami’s heart - and his achingly hard cock. And he can’t help but pull the drenched fabric of your panties further to the side, greedily honing in on the way you glisten and clench around him. 

“Well, we should fix that, right? So that my pretty baby is never alone in here.”

You would be reassured by his answer - had it not been for the way Nanami doesn’t even wait for your reply. Instead, looking straight into your eyes while he pushes his thick cock deeper inside you. Not even fucking preparing you as he usually would.

“Oh! Oh, mm fuck-” And it’s all you can do to buck into his touch and just fucking take it while he grunts at the slight resistance. For once in his life more concerned about trying to fuck desperately into your dripping cunt than whether or not your poor pussy would hurt herself trying to take him. 

That merciful, practical little part of his brain going slow to let you adjust to his massive cock - because, well, he couldn’t break the mother of his future children. Now, could he?

But oh how you’d beg to differ with the way Nanami fucks into you in languid , shallow grinds of his hips. No matter how many times Nanami stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint. Stretching you out, fingers swiping at your clit, expertly grazing against all the right spots he knew so maddeningly well. 

“Two or three?”

It takes you a second to register that he’s waiting for your answer - too delirious with the way your husband’s splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Leaving neat crescents of his nails on your hips as he holds your slutty pussy still. 

“W-what?”

“Two or three?” Nanami gives your pulsing clit a little smack! as if to get your attention, hips stuttering ever-so-slightly at the way you squeeze his thick cock in surprise. “How many babies am I fuckin’ into you, my love?” 

Oh. Oh, shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

But were you really complaining? No.

Swallowing thickly, “Ah! Fuck, Kento- wan’ two.”

And maybe you’re a mastermind, maybe you’re an idiot. Because nowhere is the gentleman that you married, Nanami’s spitting on your quivering cunt once. Twice. Watching like a predator stalking his prey at the way it misses - purposefully, splattering against your inner thigh.

Smearing it all over your pussy and your panties - which he was too impatient, too starved - to remove. Messy. 

It’s all Nanami needed to do before he’s bottoming out completely. Pressing his forehead against yours in such a sweet motion, even though his hips were so mean. Drinking in your delirious whines as his heavy balls smack your ass. Over and over-

The duality making your head spin as he fucks his cute lil’ wife dumb, part of his sanity dancing away with his restraint every time your slutty hole sucks him up so deliciously. 

“Shit. More?” he grunts, sounding absolutely wrecked. Moaning at the way you tug at his hair, legs wrapping around his toned waist as if to urge him to go faster. Deeper. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. More more more- 

And, of course, what his girl wants - she gets. Because Nanami’s dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds, all the way out till he’s collecting your sweet juices on his head. “Better take it like my good wife then.”

Then he’s pushing and pushing inside your tight pussy, but not like he was before. Jagged, desperate grinds of his hip - no adoration, no warmth. Just fucking you like his little slut, high off the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he’s all you could think of. “We’ll have such beautiful babies, my love.” 

“Shit shit shit, Kento- yer gonna ruin me-” you’re whining, body torn between arching into Nanami’s unforgiving cock and running away. 

As if you ever had a chance - he was holding you so bruisingly by the hips, gasping into your mouth. “Shhh, that’s the point.”  Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by his out-of-control hips, so harsh and unfocused with lust that those tufts of blond at his base scratch your sensitive nub. And the feeling is so fucking obscene that you barely hear the words that follow. “You jus’ focus on taking care of my babies, n’ m’gonna be the one to ruin this pretty cunt- The one to fill you up- fuck. ”

Nanami throws his head back as you squeeze the soul out of his throbbing cock, so pent-up and needy that you’re creaming all over his cock already. And of course, Nanami isn’t any better - because with a strangled groan of your name, he’s cumming. Hard. almost painfully so. 

“N’ you’ll never be lonely, cuz everyone’s gonna see you and see me. I did that.” 

Jolts of electricity going all the way from his heavy balls to the thick, hot ropes of cumming filling your dripping pussy. Painting it all a desperate, desperate white.

And shit was Nanami an entirely different man tonight. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, only to admire his seed gushing out of you - so lewd and his. 

“Y’know what, my love, I don’t think two will be enough after all.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty (and his)

“Awww, pretty baby.” Geto purrs, in such a dangerously low voice, smacking his tip - so red, and angry - all across your swollen folds. He bites his lip at the way his cum spills down your legs, pooling onto the hardwood floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! “Y’want it so badly, huh?”

“Shit- hngh- please!”

You don’t know what you’re begging for - maybe release. Maybe mercy. Maybe to be anywhere but here - shoved against the wall right beside the front door, dress hiked up, almost your way to go clubbing with your friends before your beloved boyfriend had caught you. And stuffed you full of his cum, at least.

Whatever it is, Geto only gets messier, teasing your sloppy hole by slamming in - just barely grazing that one spot. And pulling out completely, watching you clench and glisten in the dim lighting. In. And out. In and out in and-

“Sugu!” you squeal, tired of the way he was having way too much making such a mess of your pussy. Swiping at your slick, and shoving his seed back into you - smirking at the obscene mess. 

“Mhm?” he nods absent-mindedly. Eyes flitting between your ravaged pussy and that absolutely adorable pout on your lips. Chuckling, “What~? If I cum in this cute pussy one more time, you’re sure to get pregnant, y’know.” 

Scoffing, “Shoulda thought of that when you came inside me the first time.”

Geto rolls his thumb over your sore clit - just as a little punishment - breath hot against your ear as he whispers raggedly.  “And are you complaining, gorgeous?”

“N-no…” 

“Then?”

He’s licking little circles at the crook of your neck now, in time with the maddening, frenzied patterns on your cunt. Enough friction to keep those pretty lil’ whines spilling from your swollen lips, but still teasing you just enough to have you bucking and keening onto his aching cock for more more more-

“Please! I jus’ want your cock, Sugu-”

All it takes is your broken little whimper, and it’s like something snapped - because Geto’s plunging into your plushy walls completely. Finally giving you an ounce of that friction you’ve been craving for so long. Only half the man he was once before while fucks into you deliriously. 

“F-fuck. Love it when you’re so messy f’me.” he’s hissing lowly, as if you could be anything but messy. As if he’s not pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some slut, hips snapping mercilessly. As if he isn’t absolutely ruining you.

And maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the pure disrespect in his cock. Fucking you nothing like the sweet sweet whispers he was muttering in your ear, ragged and hoarse with desire.

“Gonna fill you up, huh? Give me some cute lil’ babies?” he groans,nibbling on your earlobe, fingers pressing down around your throat so the only response he gets are wet gurgles. Ones that go straight to his twitching balls, as Geto keeps running his mouth pussydrunk. “They better have your personality, don’ wanna share my pretty girl. Isn’t that right?”

So mean. Just babbling like you rarely get to see him - usually the ever-graceful Geto Suguru. Now, drunk on your tight pussy and the image of you with a little baby with black hair and him - there for it all. His perfect little family. 

“Gonna be the perfect momma, huh?” 

Geto only gets a broken little whimper in response - one that almost makes him want to go easy on you. Almost, instead, he settles for breathing out a ragged, “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, gorgeous. Squeeze me s’tight like that - jus’ like that jus’ like that-” 

Trailing such a delicate finger up your legs, Geto pools that sinful mixture of your slick and his cum on his fingertips - before shoving them unforgivingly in your mouth. The slightly salty taste was so addictive on your tongue - and, hell, you aren’t even mad that you’re running late to meet your friends.

Smirking as you gag and mewl around him, he only gets sloppier. Faster. Licking a long, languid stripe up your neck, just knowing that he’s gonna cum inside your cute pussy harder than he has his whole life. Have your poor pussy bloated with him him him- “Now, yer gonna go to that lil’ party of yours jus’ like this. And everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Can’t help himself

“N-no, swear-” Choso lets out a broken little whimper into the crook of your neck. Feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up mindlessly over and over to where you were splayed out so prettily on top of him. So messy and dripping all over his glistening cock. “Gonna ngh- be the last one- I s-swear.”

You’ve heard this broken little mantra before - and you knew it wouldn’t end well for your poor pussy. Especially not with Choso bullying his weeping cock back into your snug cunt. “But, Cho!” you gasp, “We’re out of-”

He knows you’re out of condoms. But, really, does it matter?

Because shit were you like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. And, well, here he was - completely pussydrunk, two rounds and a still rock-hard cock later. The only thing on his mind from then on was to not paint your pretty pussy white with his seed, no matter how much he wanted do. 

“Last time, baby. Promise I won’t cum inside.” And then he’s batting this long lashes so unfairly up at you. So fucking beautiful with his dark hair untied, lips swollen, eyes-half-hooded and miles away. And, well, how could you say no to that?

And you’ve barely gotten out your delirious little nod before Choso’s wrapping two strong arms around your waist, pulling you so intimately closer like he worshipped you - while he fucks your hot cunt like anything but. So hard that you knew it would leave marks - your nails on his chest, his balls on your ass, fingers on your waist. 

God, you were squeezing so desperately around him and he just thinks he might just cum right then and there. So fucking perfect that Choso knows he’s never buying another box of condoms ever again. 

“F-fuck, feels s’good. Love having you so deep n’ messy inside me.”

You were going to be the death of him.

“Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, yeah? You like that, baby?” he groans lowly. Abs burning and flexing each time he rams his cock into your tight pussy, absolutely loving the way you were leaking his cum all over the sheets. 

“Shit- I-” 

“Yes, Cho~?”

Face burning in embarrassment, choking pathetically on his words, Choso instead lets his hips do the talking. Strained whimpers of your name leaving him each time he bullies his painfully twitching cock through your plushy walls.

Voice cracking almost-embarrassingly at the end as he rambles, “Oh my god- y’feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. Wanna- hngh-” Trying his very best to sound like every cute lil’ whimper didn’t make his thoughts steer into the dangerous territory of how pretty you’d be with his kid. Of a little girl with dark hair and your eyes and-

You. His hips speeding up now, so sloppy with now rhyme or rhythm. How round and glowing you’d be with his kid. You, how everyone would know that he was that ruined your pretty pussy n’ got you this way. You, you, you-

“Wanna cum in this cute pussy, baby.” He finally confesses. Hips getting so messy - mindless, quick little jabs that have you keening on top of him, balls squeezing painfully. “Wanna fill y’up until you can’t take it anymore, fuck you so full until we have a pretty baby. Can I, baby? Please don’t say no please please-”

And at this point all you can do is whine and buck your hips to meet his merciless cadence, letting Choso crane his neck and kiss you senseless. “Fuck yeah. Thought you’d never ask-” you mutter, muffled around where he was sucking on your lips, like they were his favorite candy. “Want you to cum inside me, Cho.”

Well, you didn’t need to tell Choso twice because no sooner have the words left your lips before he’s giving you one harsh thrust. Veins throbbing against your gummy walls, again and again. 

Tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a guttural grunt of your name. “Gonna have a pretty lil’ girl.” Both white-white pleasure and the image of you and him and his daughter flashing behind his eyes. “She’ll look just as beautiful as you, baby. N’ have your cute smile.”

Your own orgasm is nothing more than a few tingles, overstimulated and limp on top of Choso as stuffs you full of his seed. Thick, white ropes that gushing all the way out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his twitching balls. 

You could get used to this.

And it’s such a heavenly feeling that Choso barely registers his hips moving again, as if on instinct. Fucking mindlessly into you again. Again and again. Gasping, breath hot against your ear. 

“Only one more, baby. Promise.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A reward

“F-fuck, woman” Sukuna grunts, fingers so bruising on your hips as you slide down his throbbing erection. Inch by fucking inch, keening at the delicious burn. “Y’act so innocent but you’ve got such a slutty lil’ pussy, huh?”

As expected, the only response he gets is an incoherent babble of agreement. Your eyes watering, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to take him. And his sharp eyes narrow in amusement at the sight of his painfully inexperienced consort’s pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs.

Humans were always such interesting little creatures.

“Tch.”

Slow ones, too, apparently.

Because immediately, Sukuna’s stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. Groaning at the resitance, a large hand pumping his cock slowly - enticingly - as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts, just to fit himself inside your snug cunt. 

And you needed to breathe in and out maybe, relax your plushy walls, but Sukuna wasn’t going to wait. Why would he? He had his favorite woman - not that he’d ever let you know - sat on his lap, legs spread so shamefully and bouncing on his thick cock.

“F-fuck.” his jaw falls slack ever so slightly, groaning at the feeble resistance against his massive cock. Still only half-inside you but still pushing relentlessly. “S’like your pussy was made f’me, brat. Milking me so well.”

“Shit shit shit- hah- ‘Kuna, feel s’good-” you gasp, thighs quivering with the pressure to meet his rough cadence. And Sukuna huffs out a low laugh at your audacity to call his name, feeling charitable enough today to forgive this transgression. 

Instead toying with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his thick fingers, loving the way you buck and squeal his name. 

“Hmm, feels good?” he hums dangerously, amused at your barely-lucid little nod. Fucking into you like his personal fucktoy - his favorite one. “Good ‘nough to give me an heir?”

At this your eyes snap open - but not for long because you just have to screw them shut again with Sukuna finally bottoming out in a quick, harsh thrust. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock, veins throbbing a maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat. 

You barely have the time to breathe out a sigh of relief before he’s fucking into you. Unforgivingly. Like the monster he claims to be. All the blood draining into his achingly dick at the idea of fucking his cum into you until you couldn’t walk. 

And he tells you - chuckling at the cute lil’ ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. “Y’want that, my little slut? To be my cute plaything to breed? Help m’make the next king of curses?”

Fuck, you don’t know if you’re reeling more from the way he was ramming his cock into you or the way he was talking to you in that mean little tone. 

“Mmm- yes! Yes yes yes!”

“Use your words.”

“Wan’-” you hiccup, batting your lashes at him so tearily, in a way that makes Sukuna’s heart thump so strangely. An uneven little beat matching the led rhythm of his hips. “Wan’ your cum- gonna give you a kid.”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way he wrestles your arms behind your back, using it like leverage to bounce you harder and harder on his cock. Only looking up at him with such cute lil’ heart eyes as Sukuna uses you as he pleases. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ he gasps into your open mouth. Teeth latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Dangerous. “Gonna make me an heir so powerful. Have him treat you like a queen n’ kill everyone that doesn’t? Ya like that, my lil’ slut?”

“Shit- ah- I want that s’bad, ‘Kuna.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And oh how pretty you look, cunt clenching and all surprised at the knock on the door - some lowly human here to beg for their life, maybe. But it doesn’t matter, because Sukuna’s only licks away the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek, hips burning while he breeds you like some animal. Hard, and almost violent.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same, breathless and shaking on Sukuna’s lap while he fill you with his hot seed. Thick and intoxicating. Hips unstopping, just animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. Over and over-

And you’re so fucking drunk off of your lord’s cock that you barely even realize when he’s thumbing your ravaged cunt open. Letting his cum drip all the way down to his gaudy throne, on full display for whoever was about to-

“Come in.”

It’s adorable how you try to scramble off his lap, trying - and failing - to cover yourself up as the door cracks open. 

“Not yet, woman.” Sukuna grasps you in an iron-hold grip, dangerously sharp nails tethering right at your throat and your hips. Starting to drag you up and down on his swollen cock once more with no concern or care for whoever was about to enter. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

It was filthy. 

Completely debauched. And exactly where you wanted to be. You and your lord - and maybe your future heir, too.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Give ‘em what they want!

“Hah- f-fuck imagine- Imagine I fucked the next s-strongest into you right now.”

Oh. 

You knew by the look in his eyes that something was off - that something hadn’t gone well in that meeting with the elders. Really, it was a miracle he attended in the first place, but somehow you had an inkling that this was the type of something that would have you needing a miracle.

That was three hours ago.

And fuck did you need a miracle - because Gojo had you splayed out on top your office desk, his cum spreading in a pool beneath, you throbbing cock stuffing in and out of your snug cunt while you try not to alert the entirety of Jujutsu High about how needy the great Gojo Satoru was being right now.

Gojo’s ramming his swollen dick into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he was drunk off the sight of you all cockdrunk and in a tight mating press. Moaning at the sting of painfully hard erection twitching inside you, and your nails running down his back. 

Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and-

You think it’s a bit unfair, really. Because who were you against the strongest? Well, the pretty lil’ wife who’s going to give him his successor, apparently. 

“Shit- wouldn’t that be funny?” he lets out a humorless laugh, wrestling your legs further and further apart. Eyeing the way you suck him up lewdly, “If I made my kid the strongest n’ just wiped these old fossils out?”

“T-Toru- we’ll get ca-”

“Caught? Who fuckin’ cares, they want a Gojo successor n’ they’re gonna get one.”

He’s letting out his frustration in the way he chases both your highs for the - well, you lost count which orgasm it was at this point. Letting you stain all over the expensive desk as he yells out little curses into your mouth.

And oh how you want to kiss that little furrow in his brow, to whisper away his stress - but, no, the only thing getting Gojo out of this bad mood was to fully and thoroughly ruin his girl’s cute lil’ cunt. 

But Toru-” you sob into his open mouth, hips bucking wildly for more. “What if I can’t give you the strongest…” You know you’re babbling deliriously, little insecurities you didn’t even know you had coming to the surface as it really hits you that shit this is your Gojo. And he’s here. And he’s fucking you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.

“Who gives a shit?” he licks away the big, fat tears streaking down your face. Salty on his tongue while he plays with your pretty clit, rubbing quick, tight little circles on it. 

As if to emphasize his point, Gojo brings his fingertips to his mouth with a lewd pop! So blissfully wrapping his lips around them. Darkened blue eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste - it only spurs him on more. 

Fingers immediately back down on your clit. Frenzied - like he couldn’t wait any longer, like it killed him to not see you cum again. Body bowing into yours, hand digging and bruising on your hips as he holds your filthy pussy still on his cock, 

“Fuck, gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. M’gonna train them to be the strongest n’ protect their pretty mommy.” 

Sloppy, he was so fucking sloppy - such a mess of teeth and spit and pure desire to paint your walls white. 

“Gonna have my eyes, huh? N’ your hair. Fuck they’re gonna regret bringing this up.” Babbling little nonsenses that drove you mad. He sounded so fucking pathetic, crazed with lust. “Ooooh they’re gonna regret it.” Overstimulated enough that it hurt.

Kissing the side of your ankle beside his head, lacing his fingers together to pull you further and further down his rock-hard cock. Sloppy and moving with no rhyme or reason. “Because they fucking hate me. All of ‘em will look at our kid n’ you - so round and pretty and see me. All me.” 

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere - ones that have you convulsing and gripping onto Gojo - the desk, his shoulders, his hair. And this was no different. “Ah! Hngh, Toru m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Delirious, white-hot pleasure cracking behind his eyes, Gojo’s pumping hot thick, hopes ropes of cum into your poor, overfilled pussy. And shit no thrill of taking out the elders could compare to watching the way his seed drips down the side. Slow, and thick, pooling at his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-

“Hey, sweetheart, y’think if I cum in you again, they’ll come out twice as strong?”

“...”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[lilguy-blhiosvbdbgfdf]

i do not recognize any other depiction of the NB flag as legitimate

[sneak-a-cat]

My least favourite skill of mine is that i can just... keep talking for like, so fucking long except if its not a subject i absolutely love i will switch up the topic practically every sentence, and literally nobody keeps up with me unless they also clearly have adhd, and they just let me keep talking. stop doing that- literally interrupt me HOW DID I GET TO TALKING ABOUT WALLACE AND GROMMIT YOU ASKED ME ABOUT CHAIRS 

pleasepleaseplease interrupt with some sort of thing don’t let me just keep fucking talking nobody fucking knows what i’m talking about not even me and i only fucking do it when i’m nervous...

[critterchitters-closedcaptions]

sorry to vent on main but like.

does it. even count as assault if he was so kind and friendly and loving and cuddly before because he liked me and i went along with it until i Couldnt anymore or did i get him in trouble for nk good reason

why has he been on my mind nonstop.

i want him dead but i dont reallh want him to die. i want him to live a long and forgiving and wonderful life and to forget that i ever existed and do what i cant and forgive and thrive and love. but i never want to see him again.

i dont know who i can even talk to about it all because its such an awful thing to experience, but what if it *wasnt* that awful thing and im just an awful girl with awful motives and an awful personality who wanted to see an innocent man get hurt. am i evil?

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[ohgeezlya]

WEDDING VOWS | Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Summary; When someone needs an important hug.

“Old and tired or young and restless”

Warning; angst, intoxication/drinking.

A/N: Sorry that I can’t post that much now since classes started but I want to say that from now on I’ll post on Fridays or Sundays. Will depend on my mood and workload.

Five was a mess, staggering around the place—his walk wobbly because of the amount of alcohol he’s drank. Apart of him thinks his mysterious concoction he made was a terrible idea, that getting drunk was a terrible idea. Although, he is leaning to the other part of his brain that thinks this is one of his greatest ideas.

He can’t be so sad about the kugelblitz if he was drunk. This, however, was a lie because all he can think of is how they’re all about to die.

‘I need another drink’ Five thinks, finally able to form a coherent thought throw all of his pitty. Five staggers his way to the bar, accidentally lugging his abdomen into the bar table which makes him wheeze a bit.

“Please, don’t throw up while there is a wedding” You chuckle at him. Five wips around to you making himself motion sick. You go to help him, pulling him away from the bar.

“Waitt, noo-“ Five whines, trying to get back to the bar, a nice Picante was calling his name despite that he doesn’t like summery drinks.

The partygoers plus the bride and groom pay no mind to Five’s tantrum as you lead him away and out of the ballroom.

“Lets get you cleaned, and if we’re lucky sober…” You mumble the last part, hoping that Five didn’t hear you so you didn’t have to deal with fighting.

But he did.

“What? No, I don’t wanta-I need another vodka bottle” He blinks away, making you panic.

“God-fucking damnit Five,”

You searched for him, he’s thankfully not at the bar and not in the boy’s hotel room. Until you found him in the corner of the elevator, seemingly passed out.

He’s slumped near the rail the left of his face mushed on the wall, his tie loose and his blouse somewhat unbuttoned, with bottle of red wine sitting between his legs, one of his hands gripping the neck tightly.

You tsk, shaking your head.

You walk in and sit next to him, struggling to take the wine from him—but you do. You pull it up to your mouth but only droplets spill out.

Huffing you toss the bottle into the corner, tilting your head on the wall.

You genuinely can’t believe it, all this fighting and stopping the apocalypse was for nothing. It will always follow this family, you wanted retirement as much as Five did.

You wanna live your life, you craved the mundaneness of humanity. Envious of the lives you’d see on the infinite switchboard; school, work, dates, family, and dying.

You can’t say you didn’t get what you wanted, least you’d die with your found family, something you never thought you’d have, in the commission is always seemed out of reach and pointless.

You look at Five, noticing how some of the red wine stained his white dress shirt, his hair swept to the side so you can see his face.

You don’t regret helping Five, helping his family. So, you can die happy with the knowledge that you tried.

You jump, startled by Five groaning, moving his head into the wall for a sense of comfort and grounding, one eye looking at around dazed before landing on you.

He smiles, but it slowly goes down. His smugness leaves his body in place of… sorrow and guilt?

“M’ sorry” He mumbles. You know what he’s saying.

“I…I wanted to save them, you. I wanted to keep my family safe…” Tear prick your eyes at his words.

Five is blaming himself.

“No, Five don-“

“Please, don’t say that I did my best, if I did we would be back home with no apocalypse in sight.” He glares at the floor, his body still wobbly probably flushing the alcohol still.

“I just wanted to save my fam-“ You cut him off, arms wrapped around his neck, pushing his head to your shoulder, he’s in shock.

The first apocalypse he didn’t have anyone besides Delores, he hasn’t been one for physical touch since he came back—it was typically overwhelming but right now, in this moment.

He accepts it. Shakily bringing his hands to your waist—gliding them around your back and hugging you tighter.

“You did try, so damn hard. Thank you.” Your whispers in his ear makes him tear up, streams run down his face.

You don’t know if you’ll somehow get out of this alive, probably not, but you don’t mind spending the last of your moments embracing each other in mutual appreciation, respect, and grief.

[s-brant]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

“wow genuinely your steve fics are so good and seem to be super well thought out i’m literally scared that a prompt i send won’t be good enough!! i dont know i want to say “we shouldn’t be doing this” sex w steve because i’m a whore for it”

7k (18+)

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, exhibitionism, praise kink, very slight dub-con if you squint due to wording but not really, it’s also just assumed reader is on the pill, and strong language.

This is wrong.

She knows that she shouldn't be thinking or feeling any of the things she is at the moment, but, when she looks up from her spot on the floor in the Wheeler's basement to find Steve staring at her, she cannot ignore the butterflies that stir to life in her stomach. Those pretty brown eyes of his are quick to avert back to the task at hand, but, for the short few seconds that they lock eyes, his lips twitch with the urge to curl up into a smile at her.

The thing is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly fucking for a few weeks now. In her defense, she didn't actively seek him out for the sake of having sex with him.

It was dark and rainy that night, and she was caught up in the storm on her bike as she pedaled home from cheer practice, eyes nearly shut from the wind that blew up the street at her face. The uniform she donned all afternoon was drenched from the downpour, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face as well. It annoyed her that she was two miles from home and her useless mother couldn't be bothered to part with her boyfriend to drive to get her, sure, but she tried not to let it bring her down.

Then, out of the gloom that hung over Hawkins, the headlights of a familiar BMW came up over the hill in the road to shine in her face, and she knew it was Steve before he even had the chance to slow to a stop and roll down his window to talk to her. If anyone else did this—even him a few years ago when he'd been the king of Hawkins High School—they'd come off as a creep, but it was Steve. Her best friend Nancy's sweet, if not a little clueless, ex-boyfriend who babysits her brother and his best friends. There was nothing to worry about.

He asked incredulously, "What are you doing out in this?" The doors to the car unlocked with a click. "Come on, I'll take you the rest of the way. You're gonna get sick."

So, she went. Her bike barely fit in the back of the car, and once she slammed the door shut, he wasted little time in driving off into the rainy night.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was gonna go ask Nance if I could crash in the basement. My mom didn't answer, and when she doesn't answer, it's probably not a good idea to come home unless I want to walk in on something that'll make me wanna bleach my eyes. Learned that lesson the hard way."

The sound of his melodic laugh filled the car, then, when she just stared at him, the amusement fell from his face.

"Oh, you're not kidding?"

It was her turn to laugh.

"I wish," she said, cutting him a sidelong glance before setting her sights back on the road ahead. "She and her weirdo boyfriend literally demand that I don't come home on nights he's over. Apparently, it's their constitutional right to fuck on the kitchen counter, I don't know."

There was a dip of silence in which neither of them said a word after that.

In his peripheral vision, he could see her fiddling with the hem of her soaked cheer skirt awkwardly as she avoided looking at him at all costs, and, suddenly, something changed.

Y/N had befriended Nancy shortly before their breakup, so he hasn't been in close proximity to her many times. Seeing that they've been broken up for a year, he doesn't have a reason to interact with her except for when he's picking up or dropping off the kids from the Wheeler's house when she's hanging out there. But, that night in his car, she was acting strange around him. Strange in the way that girls used to act around him all the time back when they hoped and prayed for a chance with the most popular guy at school. He didn't understand why she was behaving in such a way now, though. The way he saw it, he was a loser who couldn't even get into college like his other classmates and worked at Family Video.

What he didn't know, however, is that she didn't think he was a loser at all. If anything, her view on him then made a complete turnaround compared to when he was dating her best friend. When she got stuck with him and the kids last year at Joyce Byers' house and watched him go head-to-head with Billy in defense of Lucas, she knew a small part of her heart would always belong to Steve Harrington. She was the one to clean the cuts lining his face, as well as the blooded nose caused by the beating he took, and place bandaids from under the Byers' sink on each one of them. After that, she didn't see him again outside of fleeting glances in the hallway and through the windows of his car parked outside the Wheeler's place until recently.

He said, trying to keep his cool with the smoking hot girl he never noticed last year due to his Nancy-induced heartache sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, "I just dropped Dustin off at Mike's and Nancy was on her way out to see Jonathan."

She asked, "How about your place, then?" and the rest was history.

It wasn't even a half hour later that she was laid back on his couch with his head buried between her thighs and a hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she panted for air amidst the build-up to her orgasm. Then, after she woke in his bedroom and snuck out of the front door before his parents could notice her presence in the house, it wasn't long before they crossed paths again...and again and again. She'd wait around the back of the school where she knew Nancy wouldn't see for him to pick her up from school after his shift at Family Video, and they began to develop a routine of swimming in his pool, having dinner together since his parents couldn't be bothered to hang around with him, and having sex before he had to drive her back home in time to do her homework before bed.

As far as she was concerned, they were just having fun and not labeling whatever it was that was going on between them. Steve, on the other hand, was already imagining how her name might sound with his last name attached to the end of it.

Now, as they're sitting in Nancy's basement and helping the kids with the projects they waited until the very last second to start, he's still fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with her. Not just sexually, either. He's been trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date for the past few days, but every time he tries, his nerves get in the way. That voice in the back of his mind sings its doubts, telling him that she'll never want him in the same way that he wants her. No one has ever wanted him to be the one, so why should it start with her?

When Steve gets up from the couch to pay for the pizza they ordered to the house, Nancy casts a look over her should at him to ensure he's too far to hear and scoots closer to Y/N while the kids are engrossed in their own conversations.

She whispers, "Can I tell you something? It's about Steve..."

Anxiety tightens the muscles of Y/N's chest as she tries to keep her face schooled into a mask of neutrality. Although she feels like the truth is written across her face every time she comes into the presence of her best friend, she is outwardly as calm as can be. She doesn't know whether or not she should take pride in the skill she's acquired in lying since she and Steve began hooking up.

What else can she do except nod?

Nancy goes on in a hushed tone, "I've been kind of having these...feelings for him again lately. Feelings I haven't had since we were together before. And I love Jonathan, I do, but I guess I'm just worried about what I'm missing. I just don't know if I made the right choice now that these feelings are back." As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head and shuts her as if that'll take them back. "That was so fucked up of me to say, I'm sorry."

The news sinks home inside of her like lead weighing her down at the bottom of her stomach. Part of the reason she hadn't bothered entertaining the curious side of her that wondered if Steve felt anything more for her in the quiet moments after they had sex, when he'd linger on top of her for a few seconds longer and murmur his praises into the warm curve of her neck, was because she'd be confronted with the issue of her best friend being his ex. Granted, they weren't best friends for the majority of the time they dated. She was more of a post-Steve thing, but that isn't the point. The point is, her own moral code, as well as girl code, dictates that Steve is strictly off limits. But, if that's true, why does she want him so badly?

But because of this, she cannot do anything other than force a reassuring smile on her face as she reaches for her friend's hand and whispers, "Thoughts aren't inherently bad or good, they're just thoughts. Everyone has doubts to themselves, but I think it's important to remember how well you and Jonathan work together. I mean, he was the reason you left Steve in the first place."

The words she doesn't speak aloud but feels clawing at her from the inside begging to be released are something along the lines of, Please, don't drag him back just to break his heart again in another year. Don't steal him away if you don't really want him. But, she can't say that, not because it isn't her honest opinion regardless of her current relationship with him, but because Nancy would know based on the waver in her voice that something is going on between them.

To her mortification, her words don't appear to help the difficult debate waging war on Nancy's mind. If anything, it muddles things further and creates more discourse.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, but..." Of course, there's a but. "What if my instinct is trying to tell me something and I'm ignoring it?"

There's a drawn-out pause, then—

"Maybe just wait and see how you feel for a few more weeks before you say or do anything. It might just be one of those things that comes and goes, y'know?"

Nancy is quick to nod, setting her focus back on the partially painted piece of cardboard belonging to Max's unfinished project. For another minute or so, Y/N can't do anything but focus on her out of the corner of her eye, worry stirring to life within that the happiness she's experienced in the past few weeks will be taken from her the second Nancy decides to talk about the feelings she's having.

Steve isn't hers, so why does she feel this nagging possessive instinct whenever she imagines her friend acting on the feelings she just admitted to having? She never realized until now, but she doesn't think she can share him. Whether that means they will soon need to have a talk about their arrangement and how the feelings she's having are getting in the way of it being just "fun" or not, she isn't sure, but she knows one thing.

She needs to find him.

Y/N sets down what she'd been working in favor of standing from her spot on the floor, knees tucked beneath her bottom on a stray cushion, and offers up a placating smile when multiple faces around the room perk up to see why she's leaving.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks.

"Bathroom," she says. "Be right back."

With a quick, worried glance at Nancy calms her nerves instantly. There's no suspicion present on her friend's face. If anything, she's too focused on the task at hand, as well as the difficult debate going on within her head over the whole Steve versus Jonathan thing that has existed since junior year of high school, to notice or care about her sneaking away to "use the bathroom". It allows Y/N's racing heart to slow momentarily as she ascends the old staircase to the Wheeler's basement and enters the main level of the house. Slowly, carefully, she shuts the door to the basement behind her to keep any conversation she may have with Steve as private as possible.

The bright array of cozy lights strung up around the Christmas tree positioned in the corner of the living room passes in her periphery on her way to the front door where she sees Steve talking to the pizza guy with one hand casually propped against the open door. She assumes it must be an old friend, perhaps someone who used to be on the varsity basketball or baseball team with him back when they were in school together, but it matters little to her who they are at the moment. The only thing she can think to do is stake her claim before it's too late. Or, at least, have one last good night with him before Nancy takes him back.

She waits with her back leaned up against the staircase railing and watches him take the stack of three boxes from the delivery man after handing him the cash as payment.

"Alright, have a nice night, man," Steve says.

The man lifts a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder as he's turning to walk off in the direction of his parked car, and, with that, the front door swings shut. When he turns around with the pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand, it's difficult not to flinch and drop them all to the floor at the unexpected sight of her standing there.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," he says after a second is taken to steady himself, one hand pressed over his chest as though to soothe his heart after the drastic shock it received. When she remains quiet, he furrows his brows, continuing, "You're really quiet right now. It's actually kind of creepy." His voice then quiets as a new thought comes to him. "...Unless it's a weird sex thing, then I might like it."

All she does is allow her lips to curl up a bit at the ends in a slight smile before she turns to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The living room is being used by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler to watch a popular movie Steve so kindly held aside at Family Video for them when they asked Y/N if he could do so. And, of course, since she was the one who asked, it was delivered right to Mrs. Wheeler the second he arrived tonight.

In fact, the exact words he said, although quietly so anyone at the store couldn't hear, when she asked was, "Sure. Anything for my girl."

My girl.

As she walks through the entrance to the kitchen with her back to him, she picks the two words apart over and over again. Particularly, she gets stuck on the first one. My. It lights a fire in the pit of her abdomen, desire flaring to life at the memory of him casually declaring her as something that belonged to him. My. A possessive word. One he had been comfortable in using. The question is, would he be comfortable with it the other way around? The voice in the back of her head can't help but wonder...

Is Steve hers?

He keeps eyeing her up suspiciously throughout the process of setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island one by one and checking to make sure they're what they ordered before the delivery man pulls out of the driveway. Once it's confirmed that they are, in fact, two plain cheese pizzas and one pepperoni for Max and Dustin, he pauses to call her odd behavior into question again.

Steve asks, "Okay, you're really starting to freak me out. Are you okay? Did I do something?" She doesn't allow her face to give away any of her true intentions as she walks around the island, making sure in her peripheral vision that there's no one around to see them as she approaches. "If I did something, you can just tell me—”

His sentence is cut off at the end by her kissing him to shut him up.

It's a surprise, sure, but it doesn't take him any longer than a second or two to realize what's happening and react accordingly. As if it's an instinct as natural as breathing, he kisses her back with an urgency that brings a flushed color to his cheeks and settles both hands on her hips to tug them closer. The warmth of his fingertips touching the stretch of bare skin between her slightly too-short sweater and jeans draws a barely-audible noise from the back of her throat. But, he hears it. He always picks up on those little things about her, whether they be sounds, expressions she makes, or anything of the sort.

The kiss is cut short a second or two later out of fear of someone walking in, but his hands refuse to stray from her hips when she pulls away with a look in her eyes he knows all too well. Her pupils are blown wide with lush, glazed-over in a way they never get outside of moments such as these, and he knows straight away what she wants from him.

He asks, "So, it was a sex thing?"

Finally, she can't help but break her act of stoicism and offers him a bright smile.

"Shut up and follow me."

"What about the kids—"

The sharp tug of her hand wrapped around his wrist brings him away from the kitchen island, bringing him along in every step she takes toward the entrance to the hallway. She doesn't bother to look over his shoulder when she next speaks. Instead, she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze to get the same sentiment across as the words leave her mouth.

"They think I'm in the bathroom. And, for all they know, you could be outside talking to the pizza guy," she offers.

It's settled, then.

Still, in the time it takes her to drag him down the hall and up the staircase behind her, Steve can't help but check over his shoulder multiple times to ensure Nancy, Robin, the kids, or Nancy's parents didn't see them leaving to go up the stairs. The last thing he expected tonight was for her to pounce on him like a feral animal and drag him upstairs to have her way with him in a house filled with people. They've done it in risky places before, like on the break room table at Family Video and his car parked at Lover's Lake, but they've never done it in a place as risky as Nancy's house.

Despite the mild confusion it causes, whatever it is that has gotten into her, he prays it never leaves. It isn't unusual for her to initiate sex with him. Hell, half the time, she's the one who leans in to kiss him first or calls to ask if he's home, but he has always been the one to initiate in situations like these. It was his idea to fuck her on the break room table just like it was his idea to bend her over the hood of his car at Lover's Lake last week.

Every door they pass and briefly pause at is a no-go. Mike's room? Absolutely not. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's room? Never. Holly's room? That would be the most deplorable thing either of them has ever done. So, when they reach Nancy's half-open bedroom at the end of the hallway, Y/N has no other choice but to pull him inside and push him up against the shut door.

In between the eager, open-mouthed kisses she gives him, he murmurs, "We shouldn't be doing this. Nance will literally murder us if she finds out."

She shakes her head into the kiss and pulls back, breathless, to say, "Then, we're gonna have to be quiet, huh?" before promptly reconnecting their mouths.

His face lights up at the mischievous tone her voice takes, and he can't ignore how his cock starts to strain against the tight denim of his Levi's at the mere thought of fucking her while everyone else is unaware downstairs. She can feel him smirk against her lips, his chest jerking with the sound of him chuckling to himself at how this girl has him wrapped around her finger.

And there it is. With a conflicted feeling of acceptance, he finally realizes he's falling in love again.

As soon as he realizes that this is real, that they're truly about to do this, Steve takes control of the situation in a matter of seconds. His hands make quick work of tugging her sweater off of her body. Her arms rise to make the task easier for him as he frantically undresses her and tosses the knitted fabric onto the floor behind the locked bedroom door. When she's free of the confines of her warm sweater, she then reaches for his shirt and rips it off with the same frantic nature he had with her. There's a time and place for unhurried, slow sex, but this is not one of them. By her estimation, they have five minutes to spare before their friends notice their absence and begin to question their whereabouts.

He hefts her up into her arms with his hands grasping the backs of her thighs to bring them around his hips, but right before he can set her down on the bed, she shakes her head.

"No, Steve, the headboard hitting the wall will be too loud."

This earns a scoff from him.

Though he'd never be dumb enough to bring up his ex while he's about to have sex with her, Steve is as familiar with Nancy's room as she is, if not more. After all, he snuck inside a handful of times and had to get creative so as to not allow her parents to hear what they were doing while they were asleep across the hallway. Her headboard does bang against the wall, that she's right about, but her mattress doesn't creak much, and if he puts a few of her pillows between the wall and the headboard...

He tosses her down onto the bed with ease and crawls up to meet her where she lays with her head cradled against one of the pillows. His hand reaches to the side to grab the other one and maneuvers it between the wall and headboard, then grabs one of the many decorative ones to do the same on the other end before coming back to her.

Ignoring her previous statement entirely, Steve asks, "You're real cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

The button and zipper to her jeans come undone with a few deft movements of his fingers, and she can't help but grin up at him in spite of her fear of getting caught as he pulls her pants and underwear down her legs in one smooth motion.

There's something better to her about being called cute or beautiful by him rather than the typical "hot" label guys have thrown at her. Don't get her wrong, being called hot is flattering in circumstances of one-night stands or even random compliments from those she likes, but having the guy you like call you cute or beautiful in a moment of heady desire is different. She knows by the way he said it alone that she isn't just an easy fuck to him. He genuinely likes her, and that's not something she ever expected to happen seeing that he used to be a well-known jerk as well as her best friend's ex-boyfriend.

He hardly has the chance to undo his own jeans and shove them partway down his thighs before she's tugging him down onto her with a needy plea for him to fuck her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he kisses her, his tongue invading her mouth without warning, and uses one of his hands to guide his cock through her sticky folds. When his tip rubs against her throbbing clit, she can't help but whisper more desperately, urging him to get on with it.

"Steve," she says, a sharp gasp escaping at the feeling of his tip against her entrance, "Please"—her hips press up to sink the tip of his cock into her a little more—"Need you."

Usually, he'd be the insufferable little bastard he always is and retort something like, "Yeah?" or "Tell me what you need from me," for the sake of getting her to blush for him, but they have already used up at least a minute of their time before things become suspicious, so he gives her what she wants without protest.

She cries out beneath him when he sinks into her with no opportunity for her to gradually adjust to his thick cock. Her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks indented into him. Before she can think to make another noise again, though, Steve's hand is covering her mouth.

His eyes have gone wide, and the smooth motion of his hips stalling for a second as he listens for anyone coming up the stairs before he pulls his hand from her face. Somewhere to the right of her body, he reaches to grab something she cannot be bothered to look at.

He says softly, "Gotta be quiet, baby," and stuffs the shirt Nancy left on the bed into her open mouth.

Y/N doesn't even have the chance to be shocked or turned on by the fact that he gagged her with his ex-girlfriend's shirt—while they're fucking on her bed—because he starts to move the second he's sure her noises won't get them caught. Well, at least, the noises coming from her mouth. As for the sound of their bodies smacking together, as well as the wet squelching sound that accompanies it from how wet she is, whether or not anyone hears that is left up to chance.

His arms are braced against the bed on either side of her head, caging her in and forcing her to look at him while he ruins her. It doesn't take much for her to feel that fire in the pit of her belly flare up. All it takes is the feeling of him pushing in and out of her, the spare hair at the base of his cock brushing against her clit on the upstroke, and she's melting in his arms.

Seeing Steve above her is like seeing every one of her wet dreams come to life. Sometimes she does dream about him. Whether it be when she's alone in her bedroom or sleeping beside him on nights they're both too exhausted to stray from his bed, she'll wake on the edge of climaxing with her hands balling up the sheets into a fist. When she's alone, she'll take care of it herself. When she's with him, she'll roll over and start nudging her face into the curve of his neck, peppering kisses there until he begins to stir from his sleep.

The sound of her muffled moans coming through the makeshift gag encourages him in his efforts to press himself deeper inside of her on every thrust. One of the hands beside her head grasps one of the posts of Nancy's headboard for leverage while the other slips down between their bodies to press down on the lowest point of her abdomen. When he puts pressure there, it intensifies the pleasure felt from the steady rocking motions he makes into her, and she can't help but buck her hips up to meet his thrusts.

The heel of his hand presses down right above her pubic bone, leaving his fingertips in a perfect position to rub her clit for her. He knows they have very little time, so he doesn't bother trying to get her to come from penetration alone like he often does when they're alone in his empty house while his parents are out. Before him, she never even knew that was something her body was capable of. That's not to say every other guy before him was terrible in bed, but there's a reason he gained a good reputation with the ladies in Hawkins. The first of which was that he had, as she already knew from girls who gossiped about hooking up with him, a big dick. The second and most important reason of all was that he knew what to do with it.

The sight of her breasts bouncing, although hindered slightly by the bra they couldn't be bothered to remove, brings him closer to his end quicker than he expected. He'd like to think he's experienced enough to spend more than a minute and a half fucking a girl before he feels himself getting close, but, with her, one would think he's a touch-starved virgin with how easy it is for her to work him up.

His forehead drops down to press against hers as he mutters, "God, you're fucking perfect," with the words pitching up into a whine at the end from how she clenches around him.

Just when he thinks he can feel her tensing up and writhing beneath him with the build-up to her orgasm, someone knocks on the bedroom door.

He goes as still as death, and Y/N, too lost in a world that solely consists of Steve Harrington and nothing else, looks up at him with her brows scrunching in confusion until she too hears what drew his attention away from her and caused him to stop.

"Y/N?"

Her eyes go wide at the sound of Nancy's voice, her hand coming up to rip the balled-up shirt out of her mouth in time to respond to her. But, of course, Steve would never let her off that easily. As she opens her mouth to speak, he starts to thrust into her again—slowly, deeply—and it takes everything she has not to whine his name as he rubs her sensitive clit in lazy circular motions to interrupt her train of thought. With the careful pace set and the pillows preventing the headboard from hitting the wall, the bed's constant shifting doesn't make enough noise to alert Nancy of what's happening inside.

She clears her throat and calls out before he can snap his hips forward into hers again, "Yeah? What's up?"

The doorknob rattles as though the person behind the door is trying to get in.

"Why is the door locked?"

Y/N looks up at Steve with pleading eyes that beg him to cease this torture and allow her the time to respond, but he doesn't. He just dips his head down to kiss at her neck, careful not to leave a mark behind, and leaves her to fend for herself.

"Um," she says, voice a tad louder than she intended from a particularly hard jerk of his hips, and rushes to cover up the accidental outburst, "I figured I'd change into my pajamas for the night. If we're gonna be eating a lot of pizza I don't really wanna"—a whimper is choked back at his fingers speeding up their movement on her clit—"be uncomfortable in my jeans."

"Oh, okay. Well, we're all downstairs whenever you're done." There's a dip of silence, as though Nancy is hesitating before saying what comes next, then, "Have you seen Steve? Dustin was looking for him when he came upstairs. None of us can find him."

Under his breath, he murmurs in annoyance with his hot exhales puffing against her ear, shaking his head, "Henderson."

Of course, Dustin would be the one to send Nancy upstairs in search of him when he's seconds from coming inside her best friend.

Her cock-drunk brain takes a delayed few seconds to conjure a believable alibi for the man fucking her into the mattress right now as she claws at his back and bites down on his shoulder to stifle the moans that try to escape the back of her throat. As Steve grows more and more confident with his ability to ramp up the pace and depth of his thrusts without the bed making too much noise, she starts to unravel rather quickly. She can sense it building in the bottom of her belly and starts shaking her head at him as if he can do anything to get Nancy to go away.

She has to concentrate all of her energy on keeping her voice steady as she says, "He said he was going out to get some soda for the kids 'cause he heard El asking Mike if you guys had some. He was just going to the store for it, so he'll probably be back in like ten minutes."

The second the last few words leave her, she tips over the edge, and his hand comes down to smother her mouth to prevent any noises she makes from echoing in the small room. Neither of them acknowledges whatever parting words Nancy offers before she retreats downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Steve is far too preoccupied with watching and, more importantly, feeling her come beneath him.

The euphoria rushing through her has tears falling from her watery eyes as she embraces the intense high with her arms clinging around his waist for support. Now that he hears Nancy bounding down the steps, every one creaking beneath her shifting weight, he pounds into her with no thoughts present in his head other than those relating to her and the climax he chases with little care for how the bed begins to squeak beneath them.

"Steve," she cries out with tears slipping down her cheeks.

He brushes her hair from her face in a soothing, repetitive motion and whispers, "Such a good girl," as he pins her to the bed with his weight and uses the remaining scraps of energy left in him to slam his hips down against hers with a ferocity she can hardly cope with in her sensitive state. It doesn't take any longer than a few seconds for him to be tipped over the edge along with her.

His eyes are squeezed shut on instinct when he spills into her, hips jerking haphazardly, but she's quick to remedy that.

"Look at me," she whispers with a hand closing around his neck to force his head up, and he obeys without hesitation.

And, of course, she was right to tell him to do so. As soon as he meets eyes with her, the explosive pleasure felt in the span of ten or so seconds it takes for him to ride it out is heightened to a degree he rarely experiences it at. Even as it begins to slip away from him, he keeps rocking into her at a slow pace until the dying undulations of his hips give way to an exhaustion he can no longer ignore.

He pulls out of her, careful in his movements to mind her sensitivity, and falls onto his back on the empty space atop the mattress beside her. The second he leaves her, she's quick to tug her discarded panties back up her legs to avoid staining Nancy's bedding with his cum.

His hair-smattered chest has a thin sheen of perspiration over it, a drop of it rolling up and down with the rapid rise and fall of his panting breaths. Y/N watches its path as she turns onto her side and scoots closer as subtly as she can to savor the warmth emanating from his body.

Steve doesn't even pretend not to notice her sneaky attempt at cuddling up to him. He stretches his left arm over her head and uses the other to scoop around her waist, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder how he knows she likes to. They don't have much time to spare, but, for the next half minute, they lay together in the afterglow and pretend they have eternity to waste away together.

Breaking the silence, he groans and rubs his eyes, saying, "Shit, now I have to go get soda for the kids."

The sound of her giggling brings his attention over to the pretty girl laying with her head on his shoulder. Her hand trances circles in the layer of sweat shining on his chest, playing with the hair growing there whenever she becomes bored with her designated pattern of tracing every once in a while.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anything else," she says softly.

He just shakes his head, then presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it."

She's the first one to leave the bed to search for her discarded clothes, and once she gets up, he doesn't have many reasons to continue laying there other than the fact that he gets especially tired after he comes. Still, he forced himself to get up out of bed after pulling his pants back up into place and zipping them up.

Together, they redress in silence and listen to the sounds of the younger teens shouting at each other and laughing in the kitchen below them. It brings a soft smile to her face to imagine everyone having fun together after all of the heartache they've shared as a group.

"What are you smiling for?" Steve asks.

Her head snaps up from where it had been craned down to search through her backpack for the pajamas she mentioned to Nancy not long ago.

She shrugs.

"I just like hearing them have fun. They deserve it after everything they've been through."

The conversation drops back off into silence again after this, and he can't help but smile to himself as he thinks over what she said, trying not to look up and watch her redress while doing it like a creep. It's only another minute that passes before they're both fully clothed again—he in the same outfit he was wearing prior to their impromptu fuck, she in the pink matching pajama set he's seen her wear a million times. Once she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, it looks as though nothing out of the ordinary happened during her trip upstairs.

While he waits for her to fold up the clothes she changed out of, sitting on the edge of the bed, a nagging curiosity compelled him to ask her, "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you so..." He trails off for a second, trying to find the right word for it. "Horny. We could've just gone on a drive to the store together and pulled over if you asked."

For the first time since she dragged Steve upstairs, the words Nancy said to her in the basement come back to the forefront of her mind. This time, however, it doesn't haunt her as much as it had before she came to find him. There's a lingering sense of insecurity, but after what just happened, she has a good feeling he's been over Nancy for a while. If he weren't, he probably would've freaked out and stopped when she knocked on the door, but he hadn't. Instead, he decided to keep going for the sake of teasing her and acted as though his ex wasn't even standing on the other side of the door.

Y/N avoids making eye contact with him at all costs when she finally answers.

"Um," she says, "When you went upstairs for the pizza, Nancy said something to me about wondering if she made a mistake breaking up with you, and I guess I got a little...jealous..."

Before he can even take a breath, let alone process everything she said and come up with a coherent response, she continues rambling out of fear of what he'll say when he responds. Part of her still fears that he'll end whatever it is they have for the sake of rekindling what he had with Nancy.

"I know we aren't—like—dating, obviously, but I haven't been with anyone else since we started doing this, and if you wanna get back together with Nancy, I won't get in the way. I promise. If that's what you want, it's fine." She starts to pace back and forth in front of where he sits, dumbfounded, on the foot of the bed. "I just—I like hanging out with you, and I guess I like you, and the idea of seeing you with anyone else makes me go nuts, so—"

This time, it's his turn to shut her up with a kiss.

She was so caught up in her improvised speech, she didn't even see him standing up from the bed until his hands were cupping her face to pull her into a desperate kiss. It doesn't last any longer than a moment, but, fuck, it makes her even weaker in the knees than she already is from getting fucked by him a few minutes ago. Her hands shoot out to grasp onto his biceps, squeezing hard to keep herself upright, and he reciprocates by allowing one of his arms to cocoon around her back to provide her additional security.

When he pulls away, she starts to chase his lips, and he must fight the urge to smile hard enough to make his cheeks ache at the sight of it. The hand cupping her face moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, then drags his pointer finger along the edge of her jaw until she opens her eyes to see him staring at her.

"I don't want Nance, I want you."

Heat rushes to her cheeks in response to his honesty to add to the flush already present there from the strenuous exercise they endured together. And he loved it. He relishes in how bashful and skittish his unabashed desire makes her. Typically, she never lacks confidence in their time spent together. She was the one who suggested they go to his place that first night when he found her biking home in the rain. She was the one who dragged him upstairs demanding they have sex. Yet, now, she's turning all shy on him.

She tries her hardest to play it cool, though, shrugging and saying through a smile, "Good," before taking his hand to drag him over to the window he used to use to sneak into Nancy's room.

It's the same window she uses to sneak into her room on nights when Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler say no to their daughter's pleas to have her friend over, so she's quite familiar with how easy it is to enter and exit from. Thank God he has his wallet and keys stowed in the pockets of his jeans. If he left them downstairs, he could always go out and window and come through the front door pretending he "forgot" them, but that wouldn't be the most believable excuse considering how long he's been gone.

Seconds after she opens the window, he's crawling through with a fumbling awkwardness that ends with him bumping his head on the side of the house with a soft, "Ouch!" muttered into the cold night air.

When he's finally settled on the other side of the window, standing on the roof of the garage with his hands gripping the window sill, he takes another few seconds to look at her.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight. I didn't know you were sleeping here," he says, not wanting to leave just yet.

To this, she simply bends down, pokes her head through the window, and kisses him goodbye. Her hand grasps the hair at the base of his neck to guide him into it, and he returns the enthusiasm immediately, rising onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss as if doing so will make the short time they're to spend apart easier somehow.

Their lips are still brushing when she pulls back to whisper, "I'm coming over tomorrow night, remember?"

He pecks her lips again, then pulls back, saying, "It's a date."

Throughout the ordeal of Steve jumping down from the roof and landing on his feet in the driveway with a muffled groan, she watches with a goofy smile on her face from the bedroom window. The look he shoots over his shoulder at her to check if she saw him stumble on the landing only widens that smile, and she knows he's blushing in embarrassment without the porch light being on to light his face.

It's only when he drives off in the direction of the nearest store that she shuts the window to keep out the cold that's raising goosebumps on her skin and turns to lean against it with a sigh. It isn't an exasperated one or even a sad one. It's a sigh caused by disbelief and joy. It doesn't matter that he's her best friend's ex at the moment. They'll find a way to break the news with as little fallout as possible when the time comes.

The only thing that matters to her at the moment is that he wants her.

[dany-is-my-queen]

A QUESTION OF LOYALTY XVI

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Note: @nnightskiess have not forgotten, hope I don´t make you suffer before the series resumes 😣

Note 2: Thanks everybody for the patience!!! Lots of love.

"It will be okay," you heard the whisper, but the voice was unrecognizable, heightening your alertness. The fire intensified, burning your skin like never before.

You wanted to scream, use your voice to provide support, but in vain. "Y/N," you heard, but where was it coming from? "Y/N," louder now.

"Wake up," you finally managed to open your eyes; Alicent was by your side, concerned. "We need to bring down that fever," she said, trying to get up, and you snapped out of the trance.

"Is Rhaenyra okay?" you asked abruptly.

Alicent hesitated for a moment, then looked away. "Is Rhaenyra okay?" she echoed your question; cursing internally, you took her hand before she could stand. “I was worried about you, I am," she replied.

You squeezed her hand, then brought her hands to your face. Suddenly, a sensation took over your entire body. Silverwing was back. You needed fresh air to decipher the message of that nightmare.

Alicent looked at you with more confusion; you quickly got out of bed, dressed, and gave her a fleeting kiss, but it felt cold. Before she could even react, you found yourself in the dragon pit, facing a youngling who seemed unfazed by your dragon's presence. You regarded him with genuine curiosity.

"Are you new here?" you inquired sincerely. He turned to meet your gaze.

"Not entirely. My name is Addam, my lady."

"They can sense fear, so I advise against exposing yourself if you're not prepared," you advised, soothing your dragon with a gentle stroke.

He chuckled innocently, gesturing towards the cave adjacent to yours. "I haven't quite earned Seasmoke's utter trust yet, but we're making progress."

You furrowed your brow, prompting another laugh from him. "Why the surprise? Don't I have the demeanor of a dragonrider?"

You detected a hint of a familiar gaze in him, reflected in his eyes. "And your second name?"

"Once Rivers, now Velaryon," he declared firmly.

"Did you manage to tame my brother's dragon?" A touch of sadness tinted the conversation. "Whose son are you?"

"I believe it's time we speak to our father."

——————

A few days had passed since that disorienting morning, the unsettling dream, and the revelation of your "brother." You were grappling with a sense of disorientation, and encountering the girl you once held dear was becoming unbearable. Joffrey's arrival in the capital added to your uncertainty, leaving you unsure if his anger towards you would dissipate. You abandoned everyone while intending to be with everybody.

Despite Corlys's attempts to engage you in private conversation, you rebuffed him, as it reminded you too much of your mother. Did she know? If he did, did he share his secret too? It was a burden you couldn't bear to confront at the moment.

————-

Upon entering the room, only Daemon and Rhaenyra were present, apparently engaged in a heated argument.

"Your Grace, did you summon me?" you asked calmly to her, while Daemon sighed in annoyance upon noticing you.

"Here comes your whore," Daemon directed his hatred towards you, never having liked you. What a surprise.

"You will refer to her with respect, am I clear?" Rhaenyra ordered him.

"I've told her a thousand times that you're no longer interested in her, that you chose my brother's widow over her, and that she's the one who has you wrapped around her finger, that she should have forgotten about you a long time ago. You filthy traitor.”

You couldn't contain yourself and stooped to his level, simply recalling the kind of man he has always been and how he forced your sister Laena to stay and perish in a place foreign to her home. Laena deserved someone much better, just like Rhaenyra.

"Why don't you go back to Pentos and stay there for the rest of your days? Here, you'll never be more than a second son, a prince consort, and a first-rate oaf," you spat angrily. He grazed his sword with his hand, gripping it tightly, so you did the same with yours.

"I should have ripped your head off when I had the chance or pierced Dark Sister through your skull like I did with your pathetic, deviant brother. You disgust me just like he did," he confessed to the crime that haunted you for far too long since all the incidents at Driftmark, which instinctively led you to draw your sword in a flash before he or the Queen could react. He was stronger and taller than you, but you managed to bring him down to the floor, threateningly placing the blade at his throat. He just let out an insolent chuckle without attempting to defend himself.

"Oh, fret not, don't want you to be upset with my dear wife afterwards. She had nothing to do with it. We were going to let him go with his fifth-rate knight, but I figured he might do something stupid, as people of your kind often do. So I took care of it," he concluded, recounting his story with the corresponding details. You brought the sword closer to his neck, scratching it slightly.

"Go ahead, thrust it, I dare you," he began. Your body felt on fire, along with your anger and helplessness. You wanted to end him there and then, that cunt was a killer. “Oh, right, you don't have it in you. Could it be that you're reluctant because you'd rather shield Rhaenyra from glimpsing your less flattering traits? Are you afraid she won't love you the same way?"

"Y/N, please stop. I didn't know, I would have never allowed it. The plan and what we agreed upon with Laenor was to escape free of all burdens and responsibilities. If I could go back, I swear I would change it, I would change my decisions. He dithered because of you, he didn't want to leave you behind, nor Laena. I'm so sorry," she sincerely spoke with her voice filled with honesty. "You're better than this."

"But you're not better at fucking her," he murmured arrogantly. That's when you had enough, and with the hilt of Nightrider, you struck him, rendering him unconscious. You couldn't bear to hear any more poison coming from his mouth.

"Y/N… listen," Rhaenyra tried to get your attention, but you weren't interested in hearing her now. You stood up and left the room without uttering another word. Whatever she said next never reached your ears. "Don't walk away from me..”

———-

After Haelena's little one got murdered, the whole funeral ordeal, and all those revenge promises, Alicent ended up at the lake on the outskirts of King’s Landing. She was decked out in this white dress, her eyes carrying regret and fear. She knew things were about to go downhill fast; her mind was stuck on snapshots from her youth—like that time with you on Silverwing, cradling their tiny ones for the first time, holding her mom's hand exploring castles near the Hightower.

You came up, giving her a hug from behind, understanding her need for space but also getting she didn't want to be left alone, especially now. You trailed her quietly, wrapping your arms around her slim waist. The mist lifted, the water thickened. Your face found its way to the nape of her neck, planting a shy kiss; she felt the warmth of your lips, defying the chilly air.

No words were traded that time, and none were needed. Just being there for each other was what you craved at that very moment, just feeling.

———-

The early mornings persisted in tormenting you, and the same phlegm-filled scene was all that your retina perceived after witnessing the decapitation of the primary traitors to Rhaenyra, among them Otto. Your loyalty seemed to have lost its value; no one knew which side you were on, and a sense of unease pervaded your being. Doubt inundated your thoughts, and it inflicted more damage on Alicent than anyone else. It had to cease.

"Y/N…" she called out to you, finding you in the corridors. However, you chose to ignore her, as you had in the preceding days, even after her father's demise. "Will this continue in this manner? You no longer sleep in our room. What has occurred? Please, talk to me," she insisted. Nevertheless, you persisted in disregarding her. You had to act in accordance with what felt right at that moment. "We don't know where Aegon is or if he's well. My father has been beheaded, my children are distant, and Helaena scarcely leaves her chamber. I have no allies here. I feel like I'm losing you too." Her voice broke, accentuating your growing indifference, if that were even possible.

"Tell me why you're trying to conceal it if you have something to say."

You loved Alicent; there was no doubt about that. You loved her enough to spare her from this situation. Or were you merely succumbing to the same cowardice as years ago, when you sought her out solely because Rhaenyra had labeled you a whore?

"I'm sorry about your father," you murmured, still unable to articulate your thoughts.

"She did this, Y/N. She's here to seize everything, not just the throne but you as well. Will you allow it?"

Your countenance reflected an acute internal conflict. Alicent clung to the hope that what followed would be erroneous.

"Do you still love her after all she's done to us? Has she twisted you to her will once again so swiftly?" Each question was infused with pure pain, yet she desperately needed to hear you confess.

Your silence only served to confirm it; you had become mute.

"We've become a love that inflicts pain," you finally articulated.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Aemond could return at any moment; you need to speak with him."

"So he forgives the lives of the usurpers?" she asked incredulously, displaying annoyance.

"We don't desire more deaths, Alicent. She is our rightful queen—" before you could complete the sentence, you felt Alicent's hand on your cheek. It was impulsive, born out of desperation, driven by jealousy, perhaps a culmination of various emotions; yet, she did not regret it in that moment.

You regarded her with surprise, but it was not unexpected. You had behaved like an immature 16-year-old girl, and she was unwilling to endure it again.

———

Rhaenyra was acutely aware of the imperative to persistently fortify her position within the heart of King's Landing. The lingering skepticism among a considerable number of individuals, who still refused to acknowledge her as the rightful queen, was more than mere whispers. It extended to some influential figures within the court, casting doubt on her legitimacy.

Simultaneously, Rhaenyra grasped the precariousness of abandoning the capital. The impending return of the middle Green brother signaled an imminent counterattack to reclaim the city. Aemond's unpredictable nature made it unclear how he would navigate the situation. Entrusting one of the Greens' scarce dragons to him, coupled with his lack of finesse in delicate matters, heightened the uncertainty.

The ensuing events took an unforeseen turn as the young prince and his dragon loitered on the outskirts of the city, in a secluded village where Vhagar had been observed for several weeks. Uncertainty loomed over Aemond's course of action, but Rhaenyra was wary of potential surprises.

"The Prince is in close proximity. His dragon incessantly circles the vicinity," reported the maester. Rhaenyra's countenance betrayed no overt concern, yet a flicker of resentment tinged her gaze at the mention of Aemond. It was only a matter of time.

"Let's pay my half-brother an unanticipated visit," Rhaenyra declared. Her gaze met yours, and it was evident that her directive for you to accompany her was not a matter of choice but a command. "And lady y/n, you're coming with me."

Your immediate acknowledgement underscored the non-negotiable nature of the order. "Yes, Your Grace," you replied succinctly. "It's prudent to intercept him before he reaches the city. The devastation he has wrought on remote villages, even among his allies, could escalate significantly if he arrives here."

"Exactly. I must engage him away from the populace. His intent is not only to seize my throne but obliterate what is rightfully ours," she concluded.

Daemon's audible discontent with being excluded was met with Rhaenyra's response. "Silverwing surpasses Caraxes in size. Moreover, your presence is essential here in case the usurper decides on an unforeseen return," she retorted, her tone dry and definitive. With an arrogant sigh, Daemon exited the chamber.

———

As you approached the Dragon Pit, you beheld her getting ready to mount Syrax, and your thoughts drifted back to that initial encounter.

"Who can understand the heart of a dragon?"

Another dragon emerged, and your alleged brother Addam, offered a timid smile as he mounted it—a moment reciprocated with your own nod.

—

The journey could've been briefer, but precautions were taken to avoid the townsfolk's prying eyes, where rumors of Aemond's presence lingered.

Out of the dragons' sight, the trio headed to a tavern to strategize. The plan seemed dubious to you, but you complied with the Queen's orders nonetheless.

Rhaenyra donned a chestnut wig, attempting to blend in inconspicuously, a stark contrast to her usual visibility. Addam, an unknown face, posed no issue, and you kept your hood up, adopting an Essos accent for authenticity.

"Ale, please," you asked the provocative waitress, whose intensity wasn't lost on you, making you slightly uneasy.

The Queen intervened, ordering "Water only" once the waitress was out of earshot. Perplexed, you questioned her choice.

"Here with a purpose. Can't afford distractions," she emphasized. Addam, sensing tension, lightened the mood with a jest.

“Can we indulge in a bit of enjoyment?”

“No.” She said stiffly.

Having received complimentary shots, the Queen, annoyed, paid and swiftly ushered you out. Adam stayed behind, kind of aware of the underlying dynamics.

In the rented room, the Queen discarded the wig, sipping wine. Perplexed, you questioned her abrupt change.

"Why the sudden shift? Now you are driniking," you remarked, gently yet seriously.

Concerned about potential espionage, she warned about the waitress being a possible spy. Frustrated, you defended the harmless encounter, asserting your commitment to the mission.

"I don't know why you're acting like this. We're not teenagers. What's gotten into you?" you queried.

Regretful, she apologized, admitting her lapse in judgment.

“I understand. We need to stay focused and vigilant,” she agreed, nodding. “We can’t afford any slip-ups”

“I've come to negotiate with Aemond," she disclosed, surprising you. In a moment of hope, you acknowledged the possibility of averting further bloodshed, honoring Luke's memory, Jace´s memory.

------

Taglist: @nnightskiess @loveislove4 @evattude @lethal-minds @sophiexoxsblog @claymoresword @tired-ninfa @glorioushamsterqueen @barbicent @newcaptainofsquad9 @pindoris @oh-thats-cute @rxscpctals @laenordeservedbetter @voniikg @toot-is-tired @letlovee-in @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valenciavv @the-camilucha @joliettes @itssecret2109 @i-nail-jello-to-walls @cone-fused-mind @livingdreams97

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 2

────୨ৎ────

College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode two!

Song recommendation: too sweet- hozier

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

────୨ৎ────

"You´re early" he grumbles, surprised at the figure stood in the empty classroom. At 8;30 am, 15 minutes before class, it is only natural for the hall to be empty. So it was only you standing there, dressed neatly, seemingly looking put together.

But Jungkook knew better. He didn´t even have to linger his penetrating gaze on the face of yours long to notice the exhaustion painted on your features.

As always, he turns a blind eye.

Everyone gets tired sometimes.

You nod, "I know, kind of did that on purpose" Standing there while opening your bag, you begin setting your books on the table. A rose colored journal slips out, landing perfectly on top of the books needed for his class. You had woken up early today, determined to not come late for a sixth time. Determined to try and keep up that yes, it was just an accident. Nothing more, no conspiracies.

The wind whispers from the open window, slipping in the fresh morning air, waving your hair with it in a swift but gentle swish.

nonetheless, he notices,

"Close the window, it is getting cold" he sits down at his desk, folding down the sleeves of his grey button down that so delicately revealed his strong form.

So you comply, shutting the air outside of the class.

"Thank you" the sound of two very simple, very common words catch you off guard. With a lean on the window behind you, your gaze shifts to the tall teacher propped up on his desk. Your mouth opens slightly to formulate a response but, cannot seem to gather what to say. Although in every other situation, it´s simple. You´re welcome.

"Calm down, I just thanked you. My god if you´re gonna react like this to every time i comply to that stupid deal of ours I´m gonna be sick" his arms cross in front of his chest, annoyed. Of course.

"I won´t, don´t flatter yourself" you shake your head slightly, moving to sit down at your desk. Certainly the conversation had been closed now. At this point, you did not expect him to engage in your bickering, soon the room would be filled with students.

However, you find out you were wrong,

"How are the injuries. Never asked about that" he´s not even looking at you when muttering a question you weren´t even sure was genuine. His eyes examining the laptop in front of him, much more engaged in the importance of his own tasks.

But Jungkook was not one to speak for filling a room simply to escape silence.

The urge to make fun of him for showing concern is lingering at the tip of your tongue, nevertheless, you bite down.

"Fine. Medium grade contusion on my right hip and lots of nasty bruises" you allow your eyes to wander along his features, letting yourself smile just a bit, hoping he would grand you a look.

"Good. Heal up quickly, you really aren´t in dire need for more absences after all"

His eyes leave the screen momentarily, glancing at you from behind his large squared glasses.

"Trying to. Thanks" your eyes meet for the split of a second before he returns to his priorities.

Just as the next student walks in.

"Good morning mr Jeon" he greets, receiving a nod from Jungkook in return.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"When is this gonna end", you mumble to yourself as you turn yet another page of given material. Yawning and stretching your arms up, you glance at the small numbers on the bottom right of your laptop that has been opened in front of you for what must have been 6 hours now.

9:45 pm already?

The schools library is most quiet at this time. The deafening, still comforting silence only breaks when the crashing of ice inside your drink or hushed words from your monologues make their way into the large study.

Most likely because the college library is already closed and you weren´t supposed to be here either. It´s not like you have ever been caught or are disturbing someone. Even the cleaning staff have become familiar with the long hours you spend sitting put at one of many desks inside the library. Admirable, they call it. In reality, this is as usual as it can get for you.

Only this time, things are different. You will be here the entire night, not just because you forgot how quickly time passes and suddenly the small rays of the morning sun kiss your hands,

It is out of necessity. For possibly the following nights as well. Until you find a new shelter that is willing to take in a runaway college student.

For a couple seconds you wonder how long it will take to find a one bedroom apartment you can afford with the below minimum wage tutoring job of yours. Working part time is impossible since ambitious, home having first year you decided to pack every possible class you could take right in your schedule.

One of the many things you regret.

A set of loud footsteps sound closer than the cleaning personal has ever been, ripping you right out the dream of a small, well decorated apartment. Mentally you groan, wondering if the day you had to be caught, really needed to be the day you would otherwise have to sleep on a park bench.

When the darkly colored wooden doors open to reveal who is roaming the hallways at a time you should be getting ready for bed, you simply can not believe your luck.

"Y/n?" the stern voice can never be mistaken for someone else, his eyes widening as he steps inside to approach your desk.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" obviously rhetorical he asks, swiftly pulling out the chair to your left and sitting down on it casually.

"I need to study. I´m not doing something wrong i swear, even the staff is fine with it, I just have so much work to do" in an attempt to rescue your chance at a warm sleep, you hurriedly let out every explanations that come to mind.

His eyes look down to your face when he slightly tilts his head back, his hand is now carefully placed on the table, tapping it rhythmically with his long and artful fingers.

I´m doomed.

"Interesting. Try doing that work when the library isn´t closed. Get up, you´re breaking the rules" the same hand that was tapping away motions upward to signal you; no really, get the fuck up.

Like the troublemaker you are, you stay put on your chair

"I can´t, I gotta get this done"

A familiar scoff escapes his lips "You cant be serious. I wasn´t asking. I said get up idiot"

"Jungkook please I really can´t" you plea with him pathetically. The way you must sound or look to him right now is far from your concern, what matters is the need to convince him.

His frustration is painted on his face so visibly you would be able to spot it from a mile away. Instead of you, he gets up, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Your eyebrows meet to express your utter confusion,

"What are you doing"

Jungkook´s eyes move over to yours, deadpanned as if you asked him the color of the sky, he looks at you.

"Calling the cops obviously. You´re Trespassing"

Your head shakes quickly as you repeat the words no,no,no,no,no while standing up and trying to get him to stop dialing. He takes a step back and groans, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Finally, leave now. I´ll come with you to make sure you actually leave and don´t try break in again"

"You're so annoying, model citizen over here"

"Thanks. You too" he grants you a fake smile before rolling his eyes so far back he would sure be able to see his brain.

You sigh, aware that any protest is useless or you might end up sleeping at the police station.

Gathering your things and already listing the possible parks and convenience stores you would need to pass time, sleep and study at in your head. Accepting the upcoming hardship you remember his words

Cruel world

A breathy laugh escapes your mouth at the memory.

"I can´t believe you were about to call the damn police on me" you turn to him while walking behind him and out the university. It´s pitch dark outside and you can barely make out any street signs.

"Well i believe in following the law. What way do you need to go?" his movements stop when he asked you that, waiting for a reply so he could make sure you were walking off in the right direction.

But, he was met with silence. You had no idea where to go and the freezing air combined with scarily dark surroundings had just made you register your situation. Where were you going to go?

Annoyed at the non response, he turns to look at you, expecting a pissed off stare or a blank look. He did not await you to look down with a frown of worry. Your head cocks slightly to the side, muttering "I don´t know yet"

Obviously, he doesn´t understand your reply. What could you possibly mean when saying you didn´t know where you lived.

That is until he remembered you living in a shelter.

She must be new there and had forgotten the address, careless as always.

"The hell am I supposed to get from that? Forgot your own goddamn address?" his hand rubs along his forehead, the tension between the both of you is as thick as the air around. Contradictory from his actions, his voice quiets down just a bit.

You decide to stay silent once more, debating if it would be worth telling him what is really going on. After the hospital situation you should be, you should be honest and try to let the deal actually work. Truth be told, the fear of being let down and belittled is much stronger at the moment.

Before you can open up your mouth to whip up a shitty excuse, he speaks again.

"Y/n, is there somewhere you can go?"

Jungkook could swear his heart drops to his stomach when he lets out these words, awaiting your reply patiently.

The question suffocates you, caught red handed you shake your head no, looking up to meet his concerned eyes. It was no use lying to him, he would be checking the library each and everyday, that would mean that you really had to spend multiple nights outside.

He lets out a sigh, placing both his hands on his hips.

"Why the fuck didn´t you tell me?"

"Seriously? I thought you were not gonna believe me and end up actually calling the cops, no thank you" your voice sounding almost unfamiliar after not speaking for a while.

"Sound like me can't even lie. Let's get back inside then" Jungkook says without waiting for your opinion, simply strutting back into the library. You can´t help but grin slightly at his abrubt nature. He goes back to sitting down at the very desk you were forced to leave 25 minutes ago.

"You´re gonna let me stay here?" the hopeful question makes his head shoot up from looking at the floor as he chuckles.

"No you smartass, that´s still illegal, and I´m still a law-abiding citizen. I´ll call around shelters and hotels with you, i guess"

Thanking whatever power rules this world at the tiniest amount of help you can get from Jungkook, you smile,

Meanwhile he is internally cussing himself out for being nice too quickly

"Thank you, seriously, didn´t think you would actually try and hold up your word"

"Didn´t you say you would not have this embarrassing reaction every time? Shut up before I change my mind" his eyes roll back to signal that he meant every word he said. Yours do too, to signal him that he is still an asshole.

His phone as well as yours end up getting taken out, spending the first fifteen minutes calling help centers and looking for cheap hotels

Unsuccessful at attempting to find an opening, you tell him that was expected since you were on basically every single waiting list you could register to.

"So help centers and shelters are off the list. Then let´s find you a decent hotel or something" he yawns, the inevitable need for sleep reaching him as the night deepens. You feel sorry for bounding him into your own personal mess, although it isn´t really your fault. He´s the one so addiment on not letting you stay at the library.

"Absolutely not. I really cannot afford that, I don´t even know for how long I would have to stay there, it´s too uncertain" your head meets the palm of your hand, closing your eyes while sighing at this stupidly vulnerable situation.

It must be past 11 pm already.

"I´ll lend you some money, just pay be back eventually"

"Fuck no" you laugh "That might take me years, and I´m far from comfortable with owing money"

Jungkook knows he can´t force you to, still provocatively he asks,

"What are your options then ?"

You open your mouth in disbelief, the obvious option being the room you are having the conversation in, "Just let me stay at the goddamn library, it´s safe and I don´t need to pay"

"It´s against the law and it is for more than one night" he remains sternly on his arguments

"Who gives a fuck about the law , will you seriously do anything to make me sleep on the streets Jungkook"

Your voice turns into somewhat of a yell, spitting out the frustration you feel towards this childish behaviour. Both of you are tired out of this hassle and want nothing more than to get some rest and peace of mind.

His eyes stay glaring, while his voice turns bitter, "You´re so stubborn, all that I´ve been trying to do is help you not sleep on a fucking bench you idiot. My god get that through the thick skull of yours. You think I´m gonna sleep well knowing one of my students, injured student at that, is spending the night on the streets?"

In all honesty, you knew he was correct. No one would sleep well knowing an acquaintance is in a dangerous spot and yeah, he had spend the past fourty minutes in your vicinity, the past 20 minutes trying to help and figure you out.

The night moves another ten minutes in silence, branches hitting the broad windows that are framing the lecture hall as the sighs of sleep deprivation and sorrow leave his lips.

You were begining to wonder how this would play out, assuming he would just sit there with you in silence until the sun came up.

But what then?

The guilt of keeping him entangled in your mess only continues to feed itself with each wordless minute that passes, you decide to tell him to go home, you would just figure it out yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had thought up something of his own,

"Stay at my apartment then. I have a guest room. We´ll get you something tomorrow and never speak about this again"

Nothing could have prepared you from the sentence that just left his lips. What is even worse about this, is how carelessly he said it, like a passing comment. Even when he basically suggested something comparable to running to the end of the rainbow for a goldpot.

"WHAT" you can´t help it, it just comes shooting out at the complete buffoonery of this situation, that somehow keeps happening with him.

He chuckled briefly at your outburst before combing through his raven hair, his eyes never changing from the standard glare

"Look, it´s fucking close to midnight, I need sleep and you need somewhere to sleep so I will be able to actually go to sleep"

His explanation is as self centered as you had awaited it to be,that does not take away from the fact that your teacher asked you to stay the night as his place.

"I- I can´t believe you would rather i sleep in your apartment than the library. No thank you, I´m taking the bench" your head shakes violently as your face turns from surprise to cringing at the idea.

There is no way in hell you would spend the night at your teachers house

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Okay, maybe i lied.

"Turn off the damn radio and- god fasten your seatbelt for fucks sake" Jungkook groans over to you in the passenger seat of his car.

It feels like a parade of clowns are banging on your door by the second you sat down into the black hyundai. Laughing at you like you were the circus performer, not them.

Somehow, he had managed to persuade you into taking up his offer. It is only for a couple hours after all, only to pass the night. So now, he´s bitching to you about something from the drivers seat, 8 minutes past midnight.

Ridiculous, so fucking annoying already. He thinks while reaching over your torso to loosen the seatbelt that is stuck behind the carseat.

Your breath hitches at his closeness, his arm grazing over yours for a millisecond when he reaches over.

Too close.

So close you can smell the cotton scented shampoo he uses, so close you could count the moles on his arms.

You haven´t spoken a word to him since agreeing on his offer and you don´t plan to. Originally, to lessen the awkwardness of everything, now, unsure if that made everything even more awkward.

Even your attempt to lighten the mood with the radio playing got rudely rejected by him.

What a long night it has been.

The drive is short, twelve minutes void of conversation and barely lit streets. Jungkook´s eyes don´t avert the road once, his stare never creeps it´s way over to check if you were still breathing. Given by the quiet as a mouse attitude of yours, it would certainly be a possibility.

Apart from the engine rumbling and the tires rolling on the concrete roads, you noticed his habit to hum whenever the traffic lights would turn green. He also only uses his right arm to drive, keeping his left pressed flat on his thigh.

Endearing, kind of.

Once parked in front of a small apartment complex, he gets out with you and your trusty backpack following right behind. The car locks as he enters the complex, then the elevator.

"Did you loose your voice or are you purposefully getting on my nerves" his tired speech cuts through the thick air,

finally

"Just don´t really know what to say. This is all so strange" you reply, trying to sound non-chalant when the hammering of your nervous heartbeat is so far up your throat, you might actually be sick.

"it is" he says, stepping outside of the elevator and rustling his keys to unlock the door, as if it is not his fault you guys ended up like this.

When the door opens, you are greeted with a white, dimly lit hallway. He takes off his shoes first before you repeat the action and walks into, what you would assume, the livingroom. The apartment is far from the cold and empty modernity you had expected. It´s quite cozy, small but filled with photography and paintings. The apartment generally smells just like him, cotton, a hint of wood and leather.

There are four doors around, one that is open clearly leading to the kitchen, two that are across from each other and one at the very back.

"Sit down on the couch, don´t stand there so awkwardly"

His suggestion is once again, more of a demand that you, as usual, comply to. Jungkook doesn´t try to show you around, skipping all the weird hosting formalities, except for one.

He sits down next to you, keeping a comfortable distance between both of your bodies

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"Water would be good, yeah" the reply sounds painfully forced in an effort to keep the small talk and get to sleep as soon as possible.

The thought of having to face him the next morning made you want to rip your hair out, to try and distract yourself you look around the open space, taking in the beautiful pictures hung up around.

Once he sets the glass of water down you accept it gladly, drinking from it in another attempt to conceal the uncomfortable situation.

"Did you take these?" curiously you point to a collage above the coffetable in the corner of the room. It´s a collection of damp flowers and pretty fields, the color scheme is white and lavender.

It suits him, you think

"Mhm, took em´ four years ago" his voice echos through the walls of his home, following your stare directed at the collage.

"So photography can be pretty, maybe I´m really just talentless" you scoff, remembering the awful portfolio you handed him in.

"Yes, to both of those"

The comment seems to have softened the mood a little bit, you can physically feel your shoulders release tension.

"Jungkook?" now it is his turn to look at you, trying to guess what would follow the sound of his name out of your mouth. He can´t help but jump a bit every time it rolls off of your tongue, natural but uncomfortable at once.

"yeah?", he says

"i know you hate this but I really can not, well, not say this. Thank you for your effort. You may be an asshole but you definitely are a man of your word. You wasted way too much time and concern and fuck, even let me stay here. I owe you something" once your rant is finished, you laugh before searching his face for the scoff you usually see presented there, regardless of the situation.

Only to find it gone,

It has been replaced by a soft smile, something so foreign on his face, it made you feel a spark of joy.

"I guess that was pretty nice of me. You definitely owe me some shit. I´ll get you the sheets yeah? we need to get some rest" Without really acknowledging what you had told him, he brushes past the attempt of a heartfelt conversation. To you, he didn´t have to say anything, the smile was enough to signal,

You´re welcome.

Now you stood there, sheets in hand, trying not to look at your teacher in his guest bedroom.

While putting the sheets on the bed, he stays leaning against the doorframe, watching you blankly

"Mind if i ask, you know, what happend?"

It hadn´t occurred to you before that you never actually spoke the words i got kicked out of the shelter

"With things like shelters, women with children have, righteously so, priority over runaway college kids. That´s all" , you explain,your eyes fixated on the task before you, finally finishing it up, the satisfaction of sleep inching way closer that it is now basically in reach.

He hums in response, making you look at him, leaned against his doorframe, full glory in grey sweats and a black shirt, hair laying messily over his glasses

When did he get changed?

"So. about tomorrow then, I´m guessing you won´t be able to find something so fast" tainted by exhaustion his voice tries it´s best to sound stern, nevertheless, a yawn escaping his lips makes him feel much less distant than usual.

Maybe it's just the fact that you're in his house, but that is besids the point.

"Yeah sherlock that is why i kept trying to tell you to just let me sleep at the damn library" you roll your eyes, this is the fifth time you tried explaining that to Jungkook. As a teacher, you expected him to be a little faster than that.

"Oh my god this again? I´ll kick you out if you protest one more damn time. You can just fucking stay here until a shelter calls you back, Why are you so attached to that library"

The last part arrives to your ear fuzzily as he had already shut the door of the guest bedroom, leaving you to think for yourself with what he had just uttred

Slipped secretly between his cussing he offered you to live with him temporarily. Just like that, blatant, sudden, plain. The words ring in your head, over and over again.

You can just fucking stay here

Like it´s no big deal

Whatever

You would deal with it tomorrow, it was just a comment. Sleep is far more necessary, begging you to finally rest for the remaining couple hours of the night. Too exhausted to continue thinking,

"Good night to you as well" you yell, opening the door just a bit for him to hear, earning a groan in response.

[psblooms]

maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two. I will always love you

‧₊˚♡𓂃enhypen hyung line x fem reader fluff works word count: 858 established relationship, the love languages with them, domestic fluff note: does the song lyrics for the title have anything to do with this? no, no it does not.

heeseung ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 words of affirmation

every day he would be the first person to compliment you, whether it was your outfit, a new way you did your makeup, or your hair this man would notice it, and if you were wearing something he gifted you or chose, trust me he will never shut up about how pretty you look. he would not care if you just woke up from the deepest nap with a bedhead he would tell you that he loves the way you look - and he is genuinely serious he is always looking at you with his big heart eyes.

you would always feel comfortable ranting about a particularly bad day because you know at the end of the day he would pat your head telling you you did a good job and helping you find a good thing in between all that crappy day. I'm not going to lie I feel like he would be a little too soft when it came to you; even if you burned half the kitchen trying to bake something for you both, he would still say it was not that big of a deal and try the burnt dessert telling you you did amazing because even if it wasn't perfect, you did it and that's enough for him.

jongseong ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 acts of service

jay loves feeling like he is utterly necessary in your existence (which, he is, and you tell him as such) but still, he loves to remember you that by helping around. even if you don´t ask him for your help and you are just telling him about your schedule and stuff you are doing, be sure he would offer to drive you there or pick you up. if you went out with your friends he would be with his phone close to him waiting for your text telling him it's over, he is not a mailman but he takes their motto to heart when it comes to you. whether it snows, or rains, he would always be one call away from you.

he doesn't like seeing you stressed so when life gets a little to hard he suffers from seeing you panic with all the errands and work you have to finish in a short amount of time his heart hurts and even if he is also as busy as you helps with whatever you need. are you out of shampoo? no worries he is on his way to the store. he has a way of knowing when you are struggling without you telling him, it's like a spidey sense, but he thinks this is much more cool.

jaeyun ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 physical touch

you sometimes feel like jake needs constant reassurance you are there with him. from the daily morning cuddles to the goodbye and thank you kisses he gives you, you are well aware he likes having you close. sometimes in public, it is a lot more subtle, from shy hand-holding when his introverted side pops up to full-on hugging from behind when he wants your attention to be back on him. wherever he is going be sure he is going to have you close by holding your hand or by having his on your waist, he just doesn't want you to leave from his sight.

whether it's you knowing him like the back of your hand or the fact that he is an open book around you, it is always easy to find out how he is feeling without him telling you, he repeats the same patterns depending on his mood. don't get me wrong, he is almost always holding you close but the way he holds you changes dramatically in your eyes when he needs comfort or he is sharing his joy. no matter how he holds you, you are never complaining because you love having him close too.

sunghoon ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 quality time

in this relationship, your similarities with sunghoon were bigger than your differences. both of you were extremely shy with each other in the beginning, this changed the moment you started getting more comfortable and spending a lot more time together, however, even though his loud persona came around more often, he was still a rather quiet type of guy. and he was happy you did not try to push him to be more extroverted. he felt comfortable around you even if none of you uttered a single word.

both of you were busy people, and sometimes that made it hard to share the same routine, even though it was hard to see each other as often as you´d like you enjoyed the moments together way more. the midnight cuddles where both of you were more asleep than awake and you shared your warmth in silence and darkness. or when you had a day off and you had to catch up with the home to-do list you enjoyed sharing the tasks while telling each other of the current gossip in your life in between of your productive day. spending time together even if it was doing nothing or a lot was something both of you enjoyed fully.

[d1s1ntegrated]

body worship. lets give our fav villain (shigaraki) some body worship

shigaraki genuinely is a beautiful fucking person.

his hands are cut up, hangnails and callouses and rough spots. but that doesn't change the fact that they're soft, with slender fingers. so much experience in those hands, so much guilt to carry.

his silky, slightly tangled hair that smells like smoke and sleep and rain. in any state, it's cute, but when it drapes over his angular face and frames the delicately marbled features, is when it looks best.

his tired sanguine eyes, filled with hurt and grief but still so capable of finding love in little things: his friends, video games, the feeling of being known and accepted. so young and tender still, even after everything he's been put through. fluffy white lashes fluttering as he blinks, slowly and lazily.

his cracked, scarred skin. like splits of sunlight rippling on the ocean, or the texture of a hard-worked painting. he's not gross, or crusty, or a freak. he only ever wanted to be okay. it's still nice to touch. he wants to be touched.

he's only 21. twenty fucking one. he never knew what it meant to be a kid, or a teenager. only a machine, put to work but never to rest.

his strong arms and legs are the result of that work. muscles rippling under the pale skin, a testament to all things godly. you wouldn't be able to tell from the baggy clothing he dons, but he's stronger than you'd know. his shoulders wide and buff, trailing down his chest, torso, to a gentle but strong tummy, abs peeking through his t-shirts.

he isn't scrawny or skinny to any degree.

if anything, he's fucking ripped.

when he stretches, his shirt pulls up, to reveal a deep v-line and the sliiiightest amount of squish on his lower tummy, with a scattering of fluffy pale hair dragging down from his navel to underneath the waistband of his pants. an invitation. a map. a command.

to take in the image of him is to worship something more than god.

his smile is the best part. his teeth aren't perfect, but no one asked them to be. sharp canines, the bottom row uneven, and not pure white- he drinks way too much caffeine for that to be possible. it makes his real smile that much more genuine.

his smile is real when you call him beautiful. when you make note of his flaws and rewrite them as details, like chips in glass.

not to mention his other features. his sharp, angular nose. his thin but delicate lips. scars running deep like hills and valleys, it makes him all the more interesting. how it feels to kiss those lips, feeling how he bites them and peels away at the layers of skin. sometimes, it tastes bloody, but it's only a reminder that he's just as human. he tastes like energy drinks and candy and hunger.

he looks like comets and stars and all things bright, blinding, a painful comparison to how dark he feels.

did you know he has a birthmark on his left shoulder blade? did you know he hates how only one of his toes is crooked? or how badly his fingers hurt from having to only use a few of them? did you know that he cracks every part of his body every morning, that his back constantly aches, that he can't stand the way he sounds when he cries?

he may be a villain, yes. he may be sick and evil in the eyes of society.

but he's still a boy. he's still a man. he's still so much more than what he believed he was doomed to become. he's not perfect, but he is still human.

even in his worst moments he is beautiful, a tragic display of what humanity does to those in need.

tenko shimura, the prettiest boy.

thank u for the request <3 i love tomura so fucking much, and he deserves every ounce of worship.