#i like to draw his hair kinda looking like its always moving

[calypsolemon]

figuring out how i want to draw arin

[cu7ie]

💋 big mouth ☆ ～('▽^人)

⠀⠀✿`` content warnings : gojo can't shut up. cervix fucking. switch reader and gojo. (gojo gets dommy at the end.) porn w/o plot. dirty talking, throat fucking, handjob, face humping, a lot of cum bc i said so nyeh nyeh, oral (dick-sucking/pussy licking), big dick gojo (and he knows it), reader has experience, gojo a little less so. stamina, gojo has it, you don't. cursing (lots of it). name-calling (both sides), afab reader. raw sex minors do not interact! 3.8k words Y'ALL.

⠀⠀✿`` author note : gojo cock is good. based as fuck please talk to me about gojo cock <3 also i fr think hes so annoying hes never quiet!! in my mind he so blah blah blah blah blah during sex . even if he dont like u he blah blah blah. also if you like my porn, reblog it! oh yeah!!! and leave comments omg... this fic got so away from me, idk how long it is its just so much fucking porn- also! @enchantedforest-network partner! join us hehehe

Gojo has a bit of a talking problem.

He's a blabbermouth at the best of times, and maybe in any other situation would you appreciate his insight. He's good at making mountains out of molehills, take your nothing and make it something; even when it's as mundane as the weather, he'll draw up his own storyboard and play all the different actors - reporter, news anchor, cameraman and "Satoru, coming to us live with the forecast,"

and at first it's charming, right? It's what endears most people to him; what attracted you in some respects. Bordering on bit of a god complex, Gojo's always been effortlessly confident; disarmingly charming; handsome to the point of aggravation. He's never a dull moment, always gives it his all, extra even when he's lazy.

But you thought maybe, just maybe,

if you shunt his pants down till they bunch around his ankles, and licked his cock from shaft to tip,

would he shut up then? Would he allow you a moment of silence (relative, because the sound of you sucking all up on his dick is decidedly extremely loud) to let your hair down, let your head bob back and forth, tongue slurping on the underside of his cock while your lips are wrapped firmly round the middle of his shaft?

"You really like sucking my dick, don't you?"

No. The answer is no.

His face has broken out into a smile, and you don't know if he's giggling out of incredulousness or nervousness - but you are surprised that all his blood hasn't gone to his dick, cause his cheeks are red. His hand cradles the back of your head graciously, sweat sliding down his nose because he has to crane his neck to ogle you.

"C'mon. You can take more of it inta your mouth - suck. Fucking suck." His hips shifty as you work your way towards the base of his shaft, and you chose to ignore the comment, what with cock in your mouth and all. He's gotten mouthy before, not like this, but it's nothing you can't handle.

See, Gojo's kinda ... easy. He can act all hard to get - er, mysterious and what not, but he's like any other aloof man with a pretty face. Afraid of gettin' close and not knowin' what to do with it. It, you know, -

And you do, but he keeps fucking up your rhythm by trying to fuck your hand. You give full strokes, rotating your wrist and pumping steady and quick, trying to look Gojo in his eyes as you're doing it, where as his gaze is dead set on your point of contact. "You're just a dog aren'tcha? Hump, hump, humpin', away." Your smile curling at the corners, at how easily he's giving himself to you. He's dripping pre,

His fat fucking cock. Thigh clenching, pussy watering, eye-widening kind of fat. Shit is so big can't even hold itself up, so you tell him "I can hold that for you," and he pants out as he nods rapidly, "Yes, please do." You get to jerking his cock and he's a whiny little bitch. "Faster" this, "More" that, moving your hand up and down his cock like you don't know what you're doing.

"Back up Satoru, I got this."

"Look at you - you're fucking panting."

And you think you'll get away with it. Get just grunt or a sigh in response. But of course his motorboat mouth starts going on...

"Yuh ... you're good, but, " He attempts nonchalance in a cherry tomato cosplay. Red red red all over. "You're holding out on me..." His tongue lolls at you playfully, and you decide anything not singing your praises wasn't worth hearing. He opens his mouth to say something else.

Your stutter your stroke (effectively cutting him off,) working your way to the head and massaging it between your thumb and forefinger. Sweat is pouring from Gojo's forehead. He's hiking his leg further apart on the couch so you have more space to touch him, your body snaking over his thigh, getting close enough for him to be able to feel your steady breaths on his cock. "Fuck! Stop - haah.." He groans like you're working him. You most definitely are. "Stop teasing.."

"A blowjob?" You purse your lips, ponder it over. "Think you'll be able to make it to the fucking?" Your breathing gets closer, and you feel him throb in your hand. "You sure seem excited! Just don't blow your load down my throat, save it for my pussy." You're teasing, licking your lips and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mushroom head. You could swear it'd gotten a little harder than before.

Only in those moments could you have recognized you gave the man a little too much power. When your pillowy, spit slicked lips wrapped around his throbbing cockhead, licking up the pre on your eager tongue, looking down and breathing deeply through your nose. He can hardly keep himself from lifting his hips and trying to pop through the other side of your throat with the damn thing!

Now, he's just a boy too big for his damn britches. He knows you give good head because of the way you move your tongue and jerk off whatever you can't reach, but it's not good enough head. He's big, sure, but for someone who talks like they fuck n' suck on the regular, something about the performance is feeling a wee bit lackluster...

And while you're busy thinking about how you got here, he's impatiently jutting his hips against your face.

"You listening to me?" His finger teasingly taps at your forehead, getting you out of your train of thought. "Don't tell me - I've already fucked your brains out? Maybe you're just a lil' cock-drunk. Got a remedy for that..."

He thrusts his hips and the rest of his dick tucks itself snugly into your wet warm mouth, head brushing past your uvula and nestling comfortably in your throat. You can't see the way your throat bulged a little, but you most definitely feel it. You make a noise, half-choke-half-whine, and he laughs gaily at the way his balls pap your chin. "Ah? You said something?" He peers down curious, your nose mingling well with the fluffy little hairs at the base of his cock.

You don't forget to breathe, although your eyes tear a little from his size. Your jaw and throat are being stretched to capacity, but you remind yourself 'through your nose'. It's fine for a bit longer - you bob up and down in relatively uninterrupted peace, til Gojo's hand on the back of your head gets a little too comfortable. "Just a little more... suck a little harder..."

Your face burns and you clutch at it, staring at him your the gaps in your fingers as he tucks into your pussy like it's supper. He's alright at it. He doesn't do it like all he's seen is shitty porn - he's really ... getting in there, actually. Oooh.... Ohh..

He starts trying to take over your flow, his grip firm enough to start bobbing your head up and down all on his own. Like your throat is just some fleshy, tight hole to fuck. Kinda makes your pussy drool, but that's besides the point. "Oh fuck.."

You moan and take it. Let him hump up into your mouth as his musk sorta clogs your nose. He's moaning so loud it drowns out most other cohesive thoughts in your mind, the plumpness of his balls cushioning your chin a little every time he tugs your head down. He's muttering stuff you can barely hear over the sound of sucking.

"Pretty baby. Here's to hoping you'll never suck anyone else's dick this good again.... holy shit..."

Eventually his grip lets up a little. It allows you more freedom in your movement for a bit. Though your jaw starts hurting sooner than later, so you give his balls a little pinch and he finally lets you up to take in a big good gulp of air.

His voice is a little shaky. "That was ... fuck ... that was nice." Your voice is a little raw, more croaky when you respond, "Just nice?" flicking his balls in irritation as you take huffing breaths. His cock twitches, shiny and coated in saliva, your drool dripping down over his sack - altogether one of your prettier pictures. "Y'know... what'd make that blowjob just a bit better?" He breathes like he missed oxygen, his sigh half content and mostly wheedling as one hand creeps towards the base of his cock, and his other gets comfy on your ass.

"You wanna fuck, Satoru?" He feigns a gasp, his mouth popping into a little surprised 'o' shape. His face can't belie his excitement, his palms clasping together almost comically before he realizes what he's doing and stops.

"Where could you have ever got that idea from...?" He says, jerking his cock a little and pointing it up to the sky. "Get over here." He pats your cheek with it. You're not against the idea, but Gojo hasn't impressed you enough yet. You poke it away with your finger, sitting up and shuffling out of your underwear. There's enough space on the couch that you can flop onto your back, looking at Gojo from between your legs, pussy pretty and glistening with your arousal.

The way he looks at you makes you squeeze down on absolutely nothing. Flustered yet wild like an animal, apprehensive like he's never sucked a clit before.

"Head first, then we fuck."

"Oh?" Gojo starts fighting to get his shirt off his head, scampering forward so fast he nearly falls into your pussy lips. "Easy boy! Down, down..." You mutter, his fingers digging into your thighs and spreading them clumsily. The aforementioned effortless confidence of Gojo seems to break away into something more sincere and somber when he lowers himself down to kiss your clit. The way he chooses to maintain eye contact throughout makes your heart flutter, and you get a bit of slick on his lips on accident.

His tongue darts over it. "Itadakimasu."

"Oh my fucking god..." Your chest almost deflates at how serious he is, nodding like he's bowing before going in with his tongue.

"Mmf..." Your sigh flutters out of you, becoming a full blown moan as his mouth firmly suctions over your clit and little labia, licking firmly and decisively. Like all of a sudden he knows what he's doing. His attention is most often directed towards your clit, suckling on it and making your thighs twitch. You push them against the side of his head but he forces you to spread them wider again, just to fuck a finger or two into you first.

Your pussy makes a little schlick noise, readily accepting him in the hot warmth of your cunt. "That's a good sign.." He meanderingly strokes his chin. "Take dick that well too?" Your head perks up, teasing underlined with irritation.

"Course. Now suck please, I liked you more with a mouth full." You smile shakily and Gojo seems to laugh in kind. Your smile is cut off by a gasp and shudder as Satoru firmly presses his finger into your wall, lifting his mouth to get a better look at your pussy as he's stretching it open. "M'sorry, did I cut you off?"

He licks the remnants of you from his damp lips, two fingers slowly thrusting in and out. All you can do is sigh, one legs flopped off the couch and the other slung over the back of it. He's alright at this. Not as good as him giving head, but it's not terrible either. Maybe you just like seeing him be quiet for more than a second.

His fingers feel like they're looking for something. First he's pushing down, and when you only grunt in response, he starts gently feeling around for that little pocket of sunshine...

"Up." You whimper, aroused but irritated with his finagling. Your hand slides down the front of your stomach, pressing softly on a spot right before your lips start and where your hair would begin to grow. "Around th-there... You got thaat?-" If his grin is anything to go by, he most certainly does. First he presses up into it like it's a button, which makes you squeak and yelp and clutch the couch, bracing for impact. Then he slowly opts you into the pleasure, trying to apply the right kind of pressure to massage a couple moans out of you, your juices coating his hand and dripping to his wrist.

"Oh, oh.." He winks cheekily as you sling your leg over his lap, positioning his cock till it's brushing up against your pretty lips, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock as your warmth beckons him further. "...save a horse..." He sighs happily as you sink down onto him.

"Hey - don't turn my couch into a slip n' slide now." You groan, clenching down on his fingers like you mean to squeeze the life out of them. "Need - I need more." You snort when he tries to go for a third finger. He clues in quick.

"Dick? I gotchu, don't even worry about that." He tries to slide atop you to complete this jigsaw, but you got a different idea in making these pieces all fit. You push him backwards with your foot a little, getting up off your back in one motion. He backs up to allow you space, clocked in to your movements just a tad.

"Oh my God Satoru." You groan out as the tip of his cock stretches you out, your pussy sucking him up so so greedily, like you'd been waiting all night. "What... don't like my banter babe?" Gojo grunts and your brows furrow, his hand jumping to your hips and steading you when you swoon.

"N-no... Just ... aaaah .." You squeeze his shaft and he actually honest to god chokes on air. "Just - oh fuck - just shut up for a sec. Let me have thissss..." You're halfway down now, Gojo gently coaxing you further and starting to rock his hips.

Pulling up with ease and sliding down further on his fat shaft with effort, Gojo stretches you open so good your legs keep trembling, your breathing hurried even after a couple minutes - and while Gojo seems to be enjoying himself (very, very much so), he's smiling up at you and your effort, very plainly amused. Sweat starting to trickle down your forehead, you're sat wondering what's so funny.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go on - I'm definitely not stopping you." He sighs deep, his head lolling over the couch as you start lifting yourself up and down, your hand reaching up and going for your nipples. He's too focused on your wet pussy to pay you mind for a bit, but then he's drawn to them, hypnotized. He pulls on your left with his fingers, nibbles on your right with his teeth.

"Oh!" Gojo's blue eyes flick up, wrinkled at the corners. "Mno teef?" He says, still attached to your nipple. The vibration makes you laugh, more of his cock pressing into you as your muscles relax. "Teeth is ... teeth is fine." Gojo resumes his plucking. He lets you use his cock a little like a dildo. In fact, he kind of reminds you of a perfect Ken doll. Smooth muscles you can run your hands over, nice built shoulders, pornstar dick...

"Nuffin..." He mumbles around your areola, going back to sucking and scheming. Whatever. You focus on bouncing on this cock.

...

Opting to do most of the work probably wasn't the best decision. Your legs are championing through, but you're pretty tired, and after figuring out Gojo's dick is big enough to meet your cervix you've been having the time of your life. Sometimes you get too tired to lift yourself, so Gojo is oh-so-very helpful in grinding up into you, smearing his little pre-cum kisses up against your cervix.

"I'll even do all the work." His grin was smarmy, but you didn't clock it at the time. It's cute and still makes your pussy throb, so "Go," you say. "Go off, babe."

You're gonna cum soon. Gojo notices how tight you get when it's about to happen. His take over is a little subtle, but you're so interested in reaching that stiff peak, that tightening in your stomach, just chasing, chasing, chasing,

Gojo thinks, "like a dog." He smirks into your chest. Your cursing abruptly cuts into his thoughts, however -

"Shit! - fuck fuck fuck - ugh!" Every word is punctuated by a last effort of raising and falling, raising and falling, raising, and then being pulled. Gojo tugs your hips down and your pussy spasms as your body jerks.

"Satoru!" You yelp reflexively before something like a whimper weasels itself from your lips. You tighten around Gojo and it hurts a little because he's so thick, but you moan into his shoulder unbothered. A little broken, voice horse, but mostly unbothered. Til he starts moving his hips again.

"The fuck?" You stutter, a little caught off guard as you're suddenly shifted, up and down not from your own movement, but Gojo's rabid humping. "I'm almost there - soo close - can we keep goin', pretty please?" He grinds his hips into your orgasm terribly slowly, trying to get your brain to clock into overtime.

He carefully saws himself in, making your back arch at the sensation. He slides your knees apart and holds the back of them firmly, tugging you the rest of the way onto him. The meandering pace of sex before is tossed to the side.

And regret isn't quite the right word, but you'll feel something a little like it in a second.

"Whatever you say."

Your body is boneless, so it's pretty easy for Gojo to scoop you up, though it doesn't surprise you any less. Says there's not enough space on the couch for him to spread his wings, so he lugs you back to his cozy little room, and plops you onto his bed. Towards the edge of it, so your legs dangle off as he positions himself in front of you, holding his cock at the base - which now looks angrier than before. Instead of the blushy pink dusting it at the tip, it's a deeper, aggravated red now - slapping against your cunt like this motherfucker has places to be. "Open uppp~"

You were fucking Gojo before. Now he's fucking you. Any apprehension, slow-to-start bashfulness, gone with the wind. Once the head pushes past your entrance, a good five inches of cock go alongside it immediately after. Gojo's hiking your legs onto his shoulder's as he watches your eyes suddenly blow wider than saucers, laughing genuinely at the break in your nonchalance and worn facade.

"I should have answered you properly earlier." He says, brushing a stand of sweat slicked hair away from your forehead. He leans down so close, lips a little touch and go, the intention in his eye serious and cutting. With the movement, the last couple inches of cock fill you out, making you eep! But not breaking his focus in the slightest. "I want to fuck." He drags his hips molasses like, till the head is back at your entrance. He slides it back in smoothly, earnest chuckle overshadowed by your pitchy whimper.

"But I assume you got the memo - so," The sound of skin slapping against skin resumes, his pace almost breakneck. His balls slap against your ass with such ferocity it makes you yelp the first time, whimper the second, moan the third. Gojo seems more serious now, the balls in his court and the way you squeal and reach out for anything to hold only spurs him on further.

And are promptly cut off by a vigorous pounding, the sounds of your own moans, and an downright visceral embarrassment when you realize this is the second time you're cumming and in spite of all your fucking and sucking, Satoru hasn't even came once. And as if hearing your thoughts, Gojo's playful expression closes in - his brow furrows as each roll of his hips gets more decisive.

"Pussy tryna close up shop?" He mutters near your ear when you clench on him a little too tight. "You tryna break my dick or something? I know it's good, but you can't keep it -" You don't know if your sigh is from pleasure or exasperation.

"Gojo, please." He tweaks your nipple and makes you squirm.

"Ohhhh, I see how it issss. It's Gojo now?" With every drag of his words he slows down dramatically, dragging his cock along your walls so painstakingly sensual it makes you want to scream. "What happened to Satoru?"

You start placatingly. "Satoru, I-"

After a moment, his hand comes over yours, your fingers weakly folding over his. His pumps grow harder, but slow down, his eyes clamped shut as he looks up, and -

"I'll try to make this one a two-fer." He speaks with that same smile in his voice, and you're two far gone to offer a groan or snap in response. "Y-yeah. Cum, Satoru - I wanna, I wanna cum," His eyes dart up to yours, and it's a little hard to hold his stare, but you manage.

"Yes yes pretty baby. You'll - we'll cum. Soon... real s-soon."

Your muscles feel tired, used from your last orgasm and forced to prolong operation just to take more dick. It's harder to take the full length of his shaft, your tummy flipping and your mind beyond fuzzy and fucked out. But you hold out. Just a little bit ... longer.

His thrusts start getting sloppy. The bruising piston of his hips edge off their intensity, and -

You're cumming again. Your legs are shaking and your ass feels a little numb and you're clenching so so so hard, for dear fucking life-

"Fucking hell!" Gojo bites his tongue, and pumps into you for the last time.

"Good." You gasp. "That was good." Satoru runs a thumb over your clit, teasing.

He heaves sighs like he's moved mountains, but really he's just offloading hot cum from his throbbing nuts, pressed into you very closely before going entirely still. You thought you were full before? Now you're kind of... bursting. Is that the right word? Feels that way. Gojo does a full body shudder and stretches his back out, trying to fuck his load you before he's even came it all out.

There's so much that it spurts around the sides of his dick and you can feel some of it slip out, run down your thighs, and you quiver one last time before feeling strength leave your body. Satisfaction blankets over you, a nice, full-bodied comfort. When Gojo slides out, he spurts a little cum on your tummy, the rest of it oozing out of you slow.

"Haha," His voice is a little raspy, like yours now. He arches a brow before he bends down, planting a loving kiss on your lips.

"Just good?"

[sukuslutx]

Just the two of us. — R. Sukuna

— for just how long could you keep up the tough act?

Feat. true form!Sukuna, fem!reader

CW: minor death (of an npc), blood, rough sex turned soft kinda, you are also a jujutsu sorcer with a cursed technique, breeding,he has two dicks, hair pulling, Sukuna being a tease, angst if you squint – also kinda not proofread

wc ~ 4.9k

Note: My biggest red flag gotta be thinking I could personally be such a bitch to him and still get away with it.

''Sukuna-sama called for you'', you hear the maid say in a lowly tone, barely audible against the backdrop of your contemplative gaze out the window into the lush gardens below. The day held promise in its sun-kissed embrace, yet a subtle disquiet lingered in the air. You grinned at your own reflection in the mirror, pausing your makeup adjustments, acknowledging the maid with a simple nod before she retreated.

You got off the chair and made your way there, a soft melody dancing from your lips as you traversed the halls to Sukuna's chambers. Irritatation and annoyance both suddenly washing over you as you heard the loud sounds coming from inside the room. You supressed a sigh and instead giggled to yourself as you opened the door and entered.

''Sukuna-sama, feels so good'', the woman on his lap babbling, fucked out of her mind already as she was mindlessly bouncing on him. You noticed that he didnt actually give a single care about the woman in front of him when his eyes met yours. He knew you were watching, flashing you an annoying grin. The next thing he felt was blood splashing on his face. The woman's head exploding right in front of him.

''So fucking loud, such a bother'', you said as you approached him. Whatever was left of the body falling backwards and off his lap, you kick it to the side out the way as you stood in front of him.

''Why must you make me do this shit'', your tone annoyed as you pressed your hands onto his chest.

''It's quite entertaining dont you think'', he looks down at you, one pair of his hands coming to grab your hips. You leaned in closer, your lips curling into a smirk as you met Sukuna's gaze with a mixture of amusement and defiance. "Entertaining, perhaps'', your lips brushed over his but just as they were about to connect completely you move your head back, „but I tire of cleaning up after your messes," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer. "Oh, but my dear, you will always do anything for me, would you not?" he remarked, his tone laced with mockery.

You gritted your teeth, suppressing the urge to lash out at him. Instead, you forced a smirk and pushed against his chest, breaking free from his grasp. "I excel at many things, Sukuna," you countered, your voice ice-cold, "but indulging your whims may not be one of them anymore."

Sukuna's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice low and husky as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Despite your best efforts to resist, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you that threatened to consume you whole. It was always like this with him. You hate that he was right, you would do anything for him, hell you would bend over backwards if he demanded without a second thought, but he was the same.

''I still don't get why you need these lowly women, when you know that no one can satisfy you like I do'', you spoke back at him, your voice laced with an icy edge as you came closer to him again pushing him back onto his chair. ''Perhaps so, but it makes the sex better overall when I get you worked up'', he chuckles.

''Stop talking'', you tell him as you move down to your knees in between his spread legs. Two of his dicks towering in front of you as you licked your lips deliciously. Amusement danced in his eyes as you brazenly mirrored his demeanor, your defiance is always such a delightful spectacle. None dared to challenge him, yet you, with your unwavering spirit still did, unafraid of the consequences that might follow. You weren't scared of death, to be honest dying by his hands would probably be the best way to go out, you thought.

You flashed him a smirk as you took one of his dicks in your mouth while lazily stroking the other. ''I'll ruin you'', was all he said as he suddenly jolted feeling your teeth grazing his dick. He quickly yanked you by the hair and up to meet his face. Yet, rather than recoil from his grasp, you met his gaze head-on, a defiant smirk playing upon your lips."Don't threaten me with a good time, big guy," you quipped, your voice laced with lust, daring to challenge the formidable force that held you in his grasp.

Sex between the two of you was never romantic, never soft nor gentle. For that you needed a pure kind of love, and that was something neither of you had. In the tumultuous dance between you and him, love in its conventional form was an elusive phantom. Instead, what bound you together was a volatile concoction of desire and obsession, a toxic essence that ignited flames of passion even as it left scars upon your soul.

''You still got that fitlhy mouth on you little minx, one day ill manage to fuck that behaviour out of you'', he dragged you by the hair and threw you onto the bed. You squirmed up to him quickly ''but you love it, do you not?''.

He just scoffed back in response. ''Thought so'', you pushed him to lay down as you crawled up his chest, tracing it with your tongue. Your hands tracing his inked skin. Gosh you knew and memorized every inch of him. You positioned yourself to sit on his face, untangling the garments you've been covered with. No underwear underneath, after all it was the most convenient. You lowered your soaking wet pussy onto his face. A barely audiable sound escaped your lips, you can't believe that what got you this wet was killing that woman right in front of Sukuna. You suddenly get pulled from your short train of thoughts as you felt Sukuna's mouth attach to your folds in an instant. He inhaled your scent, fuck he could never get tired of it, the way you taste, that was his opium. Two of his hands snaking around your thighs pulling you down onto him, while the other two moved up your body to your breast as he gave them a squeeze. He started his assault onto your aching core, just with his tongue. He knew all of your weak spots so he didn't need much more. You began grinding on his mouth, soft moans already escaping your lips. You could be loud but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction this soon. He was so good at this, after all you did it so many times, how could he not be. The sensation of his tongue inside you was just otherworldly.

His lips lapped on your folds, his tongue proding into your hole, he moved one of his hand up to your lips waiting for you to take a hint and take his fingers in your mouth. You slightly opened your mouth to let him enter, tongue already lapping onto his fingers, coating them with your spit. „Good girl“, he mummbles, almost inaudiable from the squelching noises of your pussy. He moved his hand lower snaking it behind you and to your other hole. You let out a hiss as you felt his fingers proding inside. He started to bully them inside of you, his tongue still assaulting your pussy. Stimulated from both ends you started to feel dizzy. One of the hands that was on your hips now moving down to your clit, he pressed on it and started circling his thumb over it, just enough to drive you crazy. He looked up at you, scanning your features, he took a mental note of your expression, this would truly fuel his ego more than it already has. He was a damn tease though. It could go two ways with him, he will either overstimulate you, giving you one orgasm after another to the point your fingers turn pale white from clenching on anything that you could grab or he would edge you but not giving you the release you needed or until you reached an orgasm so pathetic that only left you needing more. Unfortunately for you, today he felt more like doing the latter. So, just as you were about to reach the point of ecstasy, that faimiliar knot forming in your stomach, hands tangling and gripping his hair, eyes turning back, suddenly it all stopped as he forcefully moved you off of his face.

„I cant believe you got this wet from what? Killing that woman?, you might be sicker than me“, he chuckled, his gaze directed towards you. You were already annoyed, he edged you. Not even giving you that sweet release. Fucking prick you thought.

„Why are you pouting all of a sudden? Wanted to cum?, oh my poor baby“, he laughed, „Ya know how many times I told you if you want something take it for yourself. Now, ride me“

He moved up to the headrest leaning onto it, you crawled up to him once again.

„Just shut up and stay still“, you climbed over his lap your pussy that was just moments ago cleanching over air now is just above his dicks. You never really did foreplay much, nor did he bother. You could take the pain, you relinquished in it. He loved that about you though, you could take anything he gives you with a shit eating grin on your face.

Your hand slipped behind you, coming into contact with his dicks as you positioned them to be at each of your holes. „Fuck, are you just going to push them in like that?“, Sukuna grunted one of his hands grabbing your neck, squeezing it just enough to excite you. You hissed from the stretch and you could only feel the tips of his dicks. ''Ngh- shit.'', you bit down hard on your bottom lip.

''Ho-, does it hurt?'', he cuckled squeezing your throat just a little bit tighter. You looked directly into his eyes with a cold gaze. If he were anyone else you might've made him shiver. „Fuck you“, you spat at him as you bottomed out completely onto his dicks. Fuck, it hurt like a bitch, it was taking everything in you to surpress a loud scream that was threatening to escape your sweet lips. You still manage to amaze him, even after all of these years you still had it in you to do so.

On your end, your thoughts were all over the place, fuck, you did this so many times why was your body feeling strange. You had to agree with the bastard, you were a sick fuck just like him. Both of your holes felt like they were being torn in half, yet riding him just now didn't feel bad at all. Why were you so aroused over a fucked up situation. It's all cus of him, you thought. He brought the worst in you, but was it really that bad when you yourself enjoyed it to the last bit. „Ha- you fucking bastard“, you looked at him nothing but a grin on his face as he was analysing your features. „What the fuck are you grinning at?“, you looked down at his prominent chest your hands moving up his torso. „Wish you could see yourself right now“, his lips smirking while anger bubbles up within you.

„Why you-„ you suddenly got cut off, your breath stuck in your throat as he thrusted himself up forcefully into you, the stretch even more prominent. By reflex you tried to push him down and squirm on his lap, and he does halt his movements seemingly complying, but only to thurst up once again a bit more forcefully. This time you were falling forward onto his muscular chest. Your mouth fell open as you felt the tips of his dicks hitting so deep in both your holes, and Sukuna already reveled in the way you completely started to fall apart on his dicks. You pushed yourself back up, face contorting with pleasure.

„When will your little brain understand,..“, Sukuna spoke as he placed two of his hands on your waist gripping it harshly as he moved you up his dicks, „that you can't ever win“, he grinned so annoyingly while looking at you as he forcefully pulled you down bottoming out once again, filling both your holes just perfectly, „against me“. You screamed out, not being able to hold yourself back any longer. „Ahh- FUCK.“, your back arched deliciously in his hold, both your holes twitching as you felt almost as if you were losing control over your body for a moment there. The sweet pain turning into pleasure real quick. You had to turn this around, you couldn't just let him have his fun nor overpower you just yet. You will let him have his fun later, you thought, but for now you'll try to be equal on this battlefield. Your next action wasn't calculated, it just crossed your mind as you saw his prominent chest. His nipples were always sensitive, that was something no one knew but you. After all, you were the only one who was actually allowed to put your hands on him. Due to his strong grip on your hips and your legs already starting to get weak, you couldnt get out of his hold, so instead, you traced his chest with your hands as you reached up to one of his nipples and pinched it- hard. He instantly hissed, his movements stuttering a bit already, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation he felt. „Ho-?“, you murmered, flashing him a smirk, as you pinched it harder.

„Don't test me“, he grunted, almost completely halting now all of his movements.

„Oh- I think I just might“, you giggled as you leaned forwards onto him, latching your mouth on one his nipples in an instant, still continuing your assault on the other, rolling it between your fingers. You could hear him groan loudly but he wasn't doing anything to stop your actions. „Hah- whats wrong Sukuna-sama, getting weak on me now?“ Another hiss coming out of his lips as he felt you bite down on his nipple. He won't admit he was enjoying this, and you knew that your fun will soon be over and just then one of his arms reached up, tangled into your hair and yanked you off of him. „Did you have your fun“, his face just inches away from yours.

„Hmm-“, before you even got to answer you were already pulled off of him and thrown back onto the bed. „I suppose it's my turn then“, the look in his eyes was a wild one, anyone else in your place would be shuddering in fear from it, but not you. The endless possibilities of what he might do next excited you beyond comprehension. You didn't even have the time to react before he was already towering over you. One of his arms cupping both of yours and pinning them above your head; the third one coming into contact with your neck squeezing it just right, while the other two grabbed both of your legs pushing your knees up to your chest as he had you fully pinned down to the matress like that. You tried to squirm unsuccessfully, you hated how your aching core got even wetter from the way he could just so easily restrain you. Actually, who were you kidding, you loved a man that could challenge you, and even manage to dominate you. You were turned on by the helplessnes you felt under him. He brought his face closer to you so you decided to use up the opportunity, and with some strenght you have left pushing your head up until your lips met his. He grinned into the kiss as he instantly gave in. Your lips clashing and fighting for dominance over one another, tongues dancing with each other. As you were about to detach your lips from his you bit down on his bottom lip hard, drawing blood. You instantly licked it up, the metallic taste clouding your mind, „Fuck me, hard“ you murmered over his lips as your head fell back onto the matress again. A grin so wide decorating his face. He didn't need to say anything, his facial expression was telling you everything you needed to know. There was a spark in his eyes that was about to ignite any second now, both of his dicks aching more than they have been. In a single thurst he bottomed out, both your holes felt full again. A soft gasp and a pityful moan leaving your lips as he started pounding into you, there was no holding back any longer. The perverted sounds of skin on skin contact grew louder and louder as both your holes were drooling from the delicious stretch of his thick size and lenght. The hand around your throat squeezing it a little tighter than before, restricting your oxygen. You started to feel dizzy from the feeling, yet you still grinned, you must be out of your mind. The sensation was one that seemed eternally foreign, a sensation you believed you could never grow accustomed to.

He looked so beautiful towering over you, his visage that others might find monstrous and repulsive held an inexplicable allure for you. As your eyes met his, a spark ignited within you, a spark that seemed to dance in the depths of your soul. But why were these thoughts invading your mind? You shook your head abruptly, as if to disperse the unwelcome intruders, desperately attempting to push away any notion that threatened to breach the fragile barrier you had built around your heart. Did you truly need to remind yourself once more of the nature of the connection between the two of you? You prayed fervently that he hadn't caught wind of any of this.

„Ah, whats that look in your eyes sweetheart, if i didn't know you, I would think you are in love or something“, he chuckled, thrusting into you.

„Fucking bastard-„, you just groaned, already annoyed over such a statement.

„Now, now-„ he grinned, as he began to pick up the pace of his movements. The hands that were holding your legs, pressing your knees to your chest, tightening their grip as his hips rammed into you harder and harder. You hissed, the sensation starting to be painful. His hips strained as he kept forcing himself in and out of you. The intensity of his thrusts making you jolt in the bed. You felt his grip on your hands starting to loosen until he let them completely free. Taking the opportunity you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer down. You started biting along his jawline moving down to his neck, leaving visible marks on purpose. You knew he wouldn't heal them, you wanted them to be as visible as possible. You were reaching your high again, and you can feel he was too, so you squeezed around him just perfectly, tipping both of you over the edge. With a loud groan he emptied himself inside you, coating your walls white. He could see that familiar white circle forming around his dicks from your own juices. You knew this was far from over but you took the liberty to try and calm down, both of your holes sensitive. It was short lived.

„On all fours for me“, he wasn't asking, it was a demand but fuck if you were ever the obedient one.

„No“, you responded with a scoff, you were always the one to test his limits. You felt him pull out of you as he grabbed your hips tightly. His nails leaving creasent moon patterns where they bruised your delicate skin. He pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you around onto your stomach, your ass up.

Sukuna pulled your folds apart with one hand and same for the other hole, as he admired the view of your arousal and his cum dripping out and down to your thighs. The thoughts of brutalizing your already sensitive holes and emptying himself over and over again inside of you clouded his mind, both of his dicks impossibly hard again.

„Well, remember you fucking asked for this“, your eyes went wide as Sukuna harshly thrusted into you once again, but this time picking up the pace instantly as his hips slammed into you. You grabbed the sheets of the bed and squeezed them as some makeshift support. As he relentlesly pummeled into your holes, you were succumbed with pleasure once again, he felt insanely bigger from this angle, the feeling beginning to turn your brain into mush. Each of his thrusts calculated, he knew how to make you go insane, and as he kept going you were slowly losing touch with reality, mumbling things as you lost control of what you were saying. The feeling so heavenly, as your approached another orgasm.

''Suku-, ah... feeels so good-„ you moaned, your soft voice was like music to his ears, as they perked up. He wanted to hear more. „Hm? What was that-, mind repeating it for me?“, you might not see him but you knew he was grinning down at you. The thought of his smug face right now made you want to turn around and smash his beautiful face in.

„Fuck you“, you bit back as you tried your best to get ahold of yourself despite the pleasure he was giving you. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of being in control any longer but the feeling was so infatuating. In an instant you jolted, as you felt a harsh smack on your ass, leaving a red handprint that will most likely bruise. You hissed from the sting, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on even more than you already were. If it were even possible the smirk on Sukuna's face got wider as he continued to fuck you; your ass just perfectly bouncing off of him, taking him so well like you always did. He wanted you at his mercy, he loved that you never gave in so quickly without a fight, it was like a tugawar between the two of you, but nevertheless he knew that he could always make you crumble. You made him too, on several occassions, but right now he wanted the satisfaction of you begging for him, for his cocks, calling his name over and over again like some prayer.

He decided to pull out suddenly, your body falling flat on the matress. You instantly turned around, letting out a whine. The feeling of emptiness and lack of stimulation bubbling up within you. „You did it again, you prick“, your voice full of irritation as you glared at him.

„If you want to cum, I'll need you to beg for it“, he retorted, grinning back at you.

„Like hell I will“, you bit back, frustrated about the situation once again.

„Well, we'll see about that“, he taunted. The next thing you know, he rested once again back leaning on the bedrest as he picked your sensitive body and positioned you onto his lap. However, he was holding you just above his aching dicks. Both your holes barely grazing the tips. Your hands were on his shoulder while he held you up with two of his. You squirmed around, wanting to just feel full again, but his tight grip on your hips never let you do so.

„Beg.“

„No.“, you responded, trying once again to squirm in his hold but failing miserably. He latched his lips onto your neck, kissing, biting and sucking, harshly as always. He wanted to leave as many marks as possible. His bites drawing blood that he licked right up. You were biting down on your lip, containing any sound that might slip but the soft moans he oh so loved still found their way out. One of his hands traced down your body until it reached your sensitive clit. His lips attaching to yours as he started teasingly circling over your bundle of nerves. He wanted to make you crumble in his hold. You moaned into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. This feeling was different. It almost seemed like one between true lovers. You blinked the thought away as you dettached yourself from this lips, catching your breath before connecting them again. The teasing sensation of his fingers over your clit wasn't enough anymore. You needed more, you needed him. All different emotions washed over you and before you knew it you were already crumbling slowly.

„Please-„ it came out breathy.

„Please what?“, he looked into your eyes. Sukuna immersed himself in the current moment, a storm of conflicting emotions roiled within him as he heard your voice as soft as that. Were you ever before like that, he doesn't recall but it was different.

„Please, I need you-„ you spoke softly again, burrying your face into his shoulder. He just hummed, tightening the grip on your hips as he dragged you down onto his lenght completely. You let out a shrill scream from the sudden stretch again, but quickly composed yourself as it turned into breathy moans and pleads for more and more. You could feel the coil in your stomach form again as the pleasure he was givng you was everything you needed and more. You squeezed around him, wanting to make him feel good like he did for you. His hands were roaming over your body and lips tracing from your jaw to your neck so possessively. You loved the sounds that he would make when he was being satisfied.

On his part with each possessive touch and primal growl that escaped his lips, he reveled in the raw intensity of your connection at the moment. His actions that were always fueled by a hunger that bordered on obsession, yet, beneath the veneer of dominance and control, there simmered a quiet unease—a gnawing realization of the transient nature of this connection you both shared.

He picked up his pace, his hips slamming up into you from below as his lips never left yours. Drinking up every sound he got out of you. He looked at you closely, analysing your features. Your eyes were closed so you didn't notice him staring.

You were a mere mortal, he thought, a fragile wisp of mortality destined to fade into oblivion like countless others before you. And though the thought should have brought satisfaction, a perverse sense of power, instead it left him with a hollow ache. He surely wouldn't miss you though, right? Someone else will come and replace you.

His fingers traced over your sensitive bud once again, as his pace never once faltered. You were so close to your high, your moans were getting louder, as the sensation grew more and more pleasurable, he could feel you tighten even more around him.

„Cum for me“, he spoke in between the kisses he was tracing down your neck and that was all you needed to get tipped over the edge and completely crumble around him. He soon followed, painting your walls white and as he claimed you with a ferocity born of desperation, he pushed aside these fleeting moments of tenderness that threatened to break through the facade of indifference. He was not one for softness, for gentle caresses and whispered endearments. No, he was a creature of darkness and dominance.

And yet, amid the brutality of your coupling as it was from the very beginning, there still lingered a silent acknowledgment—a begrudging respect for the mortal who dared to challenge him, to stand toe-to-toe with him and demand satisfaction.

Sukuna found himself surrendering to the moment, reveling in the raw power of your connection even as he braced himself for the inevitable moment when you would slip away, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory. So after satisfying the hunger that had drawn you together, you rose from the tangled sheets, retrieving your discarded robe from the floor. Sukuna watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle, his gaze lingering on your retreating form as you moved to leave..

"Where are you going?" his voice, low and commanding broke the silence, ''you won't sleep here?''.

You bit down on your bottom lip, torn between the desire to stay and the need to protect yourself from the inevitable heartache that would surely follow. "You know we don't do that," you murmured softly, the words heavy with unspoken longing.

''Right..'' he spoke back. Even though you held yourself good he noticed the shift within you but he decided not to bring it up.

''Goodnight Sukuna...'', you whispered.

He just hummed in response as you turned your back to him and closed the door behind you. As you slipped away into the predawn silence, you couldn't help but wonder if he could hear the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. You could keep up the tough act for a while more... couldnt you?

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part II — s.h

you can find part I here

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, JEALOUSY!!! eddie's a bit of an asshole i am sorry, but so is steve sometimes!! and so is reader? idk!

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 8k+)

a/n: this is part 2 of this fic here !! pls make sure to read it before this!! anddd, im sorry for how confusing the first part was, BUT HERE'S THE HIDEOUT INCIDENT!! and i didn't use POVs this time and i kinda gave up on dates ugrhh. also i have a little bonus content at the end even tho its so a lil silly!!! also did not proof-read this, pls ignore any mistakes or ill scream n d*e

Friday, February 7, 1986 || The Hideout.

Steve stole a glance in your direction, and immediately realized the mistake he had made. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why did you have to be so fucking perfect? Why did you have to have the most contagious laugh that immediately brought a warm smile to his lips? 

Steve leaned against the bar as he watched you further, reveling at the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you gave Robin a giggle, nose scrunching as you mimicked whatever story you were telling, drawing him in without even having a clue on the effect you had on him.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, his heart pounded inside of his ribcage when you looked at him like that, as if your eyes were smiling at him. He held your gaze, giving you a subtle nod. 

God, if Steve didn’t tell you how he felt about you soon, he was sure he was going to explode.  

He turned back to the bar, head filled with the idea of opening up to you, he had to do it soon or else—

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed, interrupting his thoughts as he grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, “You mind helpin’ me out?” He grinned, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. 

“Can you put in a good word for me?” Eddie muttered, hand pointing toward the booth, “What are you talking about?” Steve muttered, his eyes following him.

“Y/N.” Steve hoped to God that Eddie didn’t notice the shock in his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to control the jealousy building within him. 

“I swear I’ve had the biggest crush on her,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve couldn’t help the way his face fell; he wondered if Eddie could notice it, but by the way he grinned at you, Eddie probably had no fucking clue about his feelings for you. 

“Since when?” Steve sounded bitter, chewing at the inside of his mouth to stop himself, “Uh, since forever, dude,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“Put in a little good word for me, yea? I know you guys are close and shit,” Eddie gushed as he squeezed Steve’s shoulders again, and Steve was tense now, his entire body almost burning with rage and resentment. 

Maybe it was wrong for Steve to be petty about this; maybe it wasn’t fair to you that he spent the rest of the night ignoring you; maybe it wasn’t right for him to act this way, but Steve had been on this rodeo before. 

He was always the second choice, and he knew that he was never going to be someone’s priority. Because of that, his reaction was warranted; at least that’s what he believed. Ignoring you completely while he bitterly watched Eddie make moves on you was the only way he could cope with it. 

And it was driving him crazy, knowing that Eddie was getting under your skin with the advice he got from Steve and learning everything about you from him. 

At first, it was all just some passive aggressiveness, until it turned into something bigger, until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Because there stood Steve, across from the gang’s booth, leaning over the wall as he whispered something into Tammy’s ear—Steve’s ex.

With her shiny blonde hair and her big eyes, she threw him a hearty giggle, sticking to his side, while Steve barely blinked, allowing her to drool all over him.

You had no right to be jealous, not when Steve had no clue about your feelings, not when Steve didn’t owe you a thing, but you couldn’t help the frown on your face as he ignored you all night and was fine with stupid Tammy Thompson being all over him.

Your throat burned with the number of shots you took, you could never handle your tequila, but the numbness was exactly what you needed. Your mind was getting dizzier with Steve being pushed back into your thoughts.

You could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each sip, gaze barely holding over Steve’s direction anymore when Eddie had been keeping you company the whole night.

To think Steve was supposed to be your close friend felt like a joke now. The more he was with the blondie, the more you felt your stomach churning, gaze drifting toward Eddie to keep yourself from looking in his direction.

You felt desperate.

Steve probably saw you as the girl who was wrapped around his finger, the girl who followed him around like a puppy. Maybe that’s why he was ignoring you, trying to keep you from clinging to him.

You fidgeted in your seat; not being able to get up and tear her off of him was killing you, and  your head was pounding because of the amount alcohol in your system.

It was getting harder to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice anything, but Steve did.

With each shot you took, with each step you took closer to Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the sharp pain he felt in his chest, the same rage of jealousy gnawing at him as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, too, so he buried it deeper and deeper until he could make sure those feelings for you were impossible to reach.

You were going to be dating Eddie, and Steve needed to get over you as fast as he could.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the attention coming from his ex.

By the time Steve arrived back at the booth, Nancy and Jonathan were already gone, you were in the bathroom—possibly puking your guts out, and Robin was getting ready to leave.

“What the fuck happened here?” He asked, concern washing over his face. “She drank a bit too much,” Robin mumbled, knowing how much Steve cared about you.

“You should maybe check on her, yea?” She gave Steve an all-knowing look, causing him to shrug.

“I can’t—” Robin interrupted him with a death glare.

“I would, but I have to go or my mom will actually kill me this time,” She groaned, saying her goodbyes before leaving in a hurry. 

“Dude, I gotta bail too,” Eddie puffed his cheeks as he put on his leather jacket. “What?” Steve asked, baffled.

“She’s wasted!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up quickly, causing Eddie to shrug, “She’s probably puking her guts out right now, she needs you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed; he couldn’t believe that Eddie would even think about leaving you alone in a condition like this. 

“Gross, dude,” Eddie said, making a face as he cringed, causing Steve to roll his eyes. 

“Real fuckin’ mature, Munson.”

“You drop her home, man, I’m too fuckin’ hammered for all of this.” He gave Steve’s shoulder another tight squeeze; this time Steve was sure his blood was boiling, his eyes darkening with each word Eddie spoke.

This asshole had the audacity to use him to try to date you, and he couldn’t even fucking treat you, right? Steve shook off his thoughts before he could do something he knew he would regret.

Eddie was his best friend, and he could never let his feelings for you get in the way of you actually being happy.

“Are you going to get a cab?” Steve asked, “Yeah,” Eddie muttered mindlessly.

“Then give me your jacket.” Steve’s tone was now cold, almost demanding, and his demeanor changing within seconds was throwing Eddie off, 

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie chuckled mockingly, he didn’t notice the serious gaze Steve holds.

“Dude, your house is five minutes away, you’ll be fine, just give me your jacket,” He demanded again.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Eddie spat.

“Because you asshole, it’s the middle of February and Y/N is wearing a fucking dress, it’s the least you could do for leaving her like that.”

“Why don’t you give her yours?” Steve didn’t know how to control the rage coursing through his veins.

“Do you see me wearing a fucking jacket?” Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve like this, with those veins in his forehead visible as he could feel his fists clench. Eddie’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Steve’s bizarre behavior.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie mumbled before taking off the jacket with a few huffs escaping from his lips.

“There, you happy, man?” Eddie hissed, almost tossing the jacket toward Steve, “Fucking ecstatic,” Steve replied with an angry smirk.

Steve sighed before he made his way to the bathroom. Not knowing what was waiting for him inside, he knocked on the door hesitantly and asked, “Y–you okay?” The shakiness in his voice was exposing him.

A faint ‘Yeah’ was all he heard before you unlocked the door.

And there you laid on the dirty bathroom tiles, your hair disheveled, make-up smudged, and you could barely get your head up from the toilet seat.

Steve’s heart sank, guilt settling in his insides again like an old friend. He knew he couldn’t always take care of you, and he knew that you’d be with Eddie soon, but he couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of guilt when all of this could’ve been avoided if he was just there for you. 

And his mind was still reeling about the fact that Eddie dared to leave you like this.

Would the fucker even be able to treat you right?

“Want me to help you?” He asked, hands itching to reach out and hold you, but you dismissed him like it was nothing, like he didn’t mean anything to you anymore, and it had only been an hour since Steve had learned that Eddie was into you. 

“No,” Even when you were this messed up, you held onto your grudge, shutting out any feelings of understanding or empathy toward Steve, even though he was only trying to help you out.

“I can help, to, you know—hold your hair and stuff,” He stuttered, he had never been this nervous around you.

You flushed the toilet as you attempted to get up, “I’m not—I didn’t throw up,” Your words were slurred.

“If you… if you feel like throwing up, I can—”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, throwing him a cold stare. “I’m just trying to help you, Y/N.” His tone sounded disappointed, but you could care less when he had acted like a jerk most of the night.

“I don’t need your help,” You snapped while flushing the toilet, trying to stand still, your head growing dizzier each time you moved.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh and said, “Here.” He ignored your protests as he helped you up, warm hands were tight around your waist. If you weren’t this embarrassingly drunk and a huge mess, you would’ve started getting your hopes up.

But not after today, not after he ignored you to be with Tammy Thompson all fucking night.

“I got it!” You spat, trying to free yourself from his hold. “Let me help, please.” This was the most genuine he had been tonight, his voice almost pleading as he threw you that pitiful look, and you hated it.

You hated being the one Steve pitied and not the one he pined after, but you swallowed your pride when you realized you couldn’t even walk properly.

You barely questioned everyone’s absence when your mind was filled with Steve. 

And once he dragged you out of the bar, you couldn’t help the petty words that escaped your lips; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

“You can get back to your girlfriend now,” You muttered bitterly, your voice clear. There was venom in your tone, and your grudge was poison with the way it seeped into your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve sighed, and you lightly pushed him off of you as you stood still on your own.

“Does the name Tammy Thompson ring a bell?” You narrowed your eyes. You wish you could tape your mouth right now and stop yourself from spilling so much of your feelings to Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything, Y/N?” His tone remained cold now; your heart was in his hands, and he was squeezing it each time he distanced himself from you. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Each time you dismissed him, you unknowingly tore open the old wound in his heart, keeping it fresh. 

“If—if you wanted to take care of me so badly, then why did you ignore me all fuckin’ night?” Your face heated with anger, and your tone was tinged with frustration. 

“Should go back to fuckin’ blondie over there,” You muttered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him, unable to conceal the bitterness you were holding onto. 

“Oh my god,” The realization dawned on Steve at a crawl.

You were jealous of him.

“You are jealous,” Steve couldn’t help the annoying smile on his lips, much to your dismay. You were jealous of him, and as selfish as it was, it was amusing to him. 

“What?” You snapped, eyes narrowing, “I’m not jealous—” The look Steve threw at you was enough to break you. “Jerk,” You mumbled under your breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it dooooeees,” He said, dragging his words out to annoy you further, as he took a step closer to you, almost closing the distance that he had been keen on protecting the entire night. 

He was frustrating, so fucking frustrating, spinning your head faster than all the booze in your system. You couldn’t help the way your eyes grew mellow when he looked at you like that, you wanted to take all of him in. 

This entire day was beginning to grow tiring, from Eddie’s sudden interest in you to Steve’s emotional whiplash, and now, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second, he was aware of your unnecessary jealousy. 

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” You slurred again, hands wrapping around yourself almost as an attempt to conceal yourself from him, he could see right through you, and it was making you feel things you were not ready for. 

“W—where is Eddie?” Those were the worst three words that could come out of your mouth. Just when Steve was basking in the glory and the hope that you were jealous of him, you decided to bring up Eddie, and with just his name rolling off your lips, you were re-opening his wounds.

Why not him?

Why was it never Steve?

Steve gulped; physically, he wasn’t sure what step to take would be better, to put a distance between you and him or to put a distance between him and Eddie. 

And even though he knew he would regret doing this like there’s no tomorrow, even though Eddie doesn’t fucking deserve this decency, or you, Steve decided that he can’t do this to his friend. 

“At least he’ll take me home!” You exclaimed so confidently that Steve couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would.” Steve quipped, grinning. He was mocking you again, unaware of your growing frustrations.

“What the hell is your problem?” You narrowed your eyes. “Unlike you, he didn’t ignore me all night to be with his ex, and he gave me his jacket.” Steve chuckled at that, again, frustrating you more and more, each time he opened his mouth. 

With an irritated frown, you shot a sharp glance at him and asked, “Is everything a fucking joke to you?” 

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” You crossed your arms against your chest, “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself!” You snapped, not even knowing know why you uttered those words, you knew better than anyone that Steve wasn’t selfish; he never once put himself in front of his friends, but you were aiming to hurt him, and he was ready to bite back now. 

“You are so fucking ridiculous, I—I can’t do this with you,” You murmured dejectedly, not being able to help it when your voice cracked; he was so embedded in your brain that you couldn’t form coherent words with the space he took up in your mind.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about,” He whispered, shaking his head. If only you knew.

“Did you actually stop to think about how shitty it makes me feel when you give me these stupid emotional whiplashes?” You asked, and if you dared to get closer to him, you might’ve lost the purpose of the argument, your gaze drooping down to his lips every few seconds.

Steve stared at you blankly; you were unable to make anything out of his expressions, he looked at you as if you never existed to him, on a fucking whim.

Your lips tremble, a telltale sign that you would break soon.

His no response spoke volumes to you, “Of course you didn't.” You gave him a dry chuckle, filled with bitterness, and turned on your heel to walk away from him.

The slight breeze of February air hit you harder than Steve’s words.

He sighed a heavy breath when he heard you gasp at the coldness, hand reaching out to your arm before he spun you to meet his gaze again,

“Watch it, Y/N.” The words slipped past his lips forcefully, his chest puffing down with each breath he took. He was so fucking close that one move from you would change everything.

The tension was palpable; unspoken words and emotions hung in the space between the two of you.

And there it was.

There were his emotions again, filling his gaze quicker than you realized. If you weren’t this shitfaced, you could possibly do something about the ever so slightly distance between you, your foreheads almost touching. But your mind was spinning with endless possibilities. “Or what?” You teased; maybe it wasn’t the right time to do so, but you wanted to push him, make him break, the same way he did to you.

How far was he willing to take it?

His grip on your arm tightened; it wasn’t harsh, but tight enough to send shivers down your spine. And you couldn’t determine a single thing he was thinking again, eyes locked with each other without a single word being spoken.

You could sense his mind wandering off to find you a proper answer, trying to pick his words carefully, but you didn’t want that.

You wanted to know what he was thinking—what was going through his mind when he looked at you like you meant something to him, like he was ready to risk it all.

It was momentarily, but you could see it all—the sudden flint of confidence that didn’t waver enough to be convincing.

It wasn’t long until he returned to the cold demeanor he had been reserving just for you. “No, you’re not fucking worth it,” He muttered, taking a step back before he bit the inside of his cheek—hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, but he could care less; if he hadn’t done it, he would’ve poured his heart out.

He would’ve risked it all just to see those sparks in your eyes, but with five words, he had managed to kill it, slitting all the possibilities with the sharpest knife he could find.

“W–what?” Your voice cracked, and you fucking hated it. You hated being this weak in front of him, with tears ready to spill every time you had an argument, even over the smallest things.

“Just–Fuck! Look at you,” He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to burn this bridge with you, but he knew he had to for his own sake and for you to be happy with Eddie.

“You—you’re all over the place, always relying on others to take care of you, just one fucking night I didn’t baby you…” He shook his head. “And you act like I’m fuckin’ insane for doing that!” His voice was calm and collected, and that was what was throwing you off. How could he relay your insecurities in front of you, crush your heart to pieces, and pretend as if what he was saying was okay?

You couldn’t help it when tears flooded your vision. You tried not to let them get to you, but the alcohol in your system was far too dizzying and hormonal to stop your emotions from flowing. You didn’t know why he decided to utter those words, but it hurt.

Each of the gazes you shared and each word that transpired, deepened the wound in your insides that you didn’t even know existed, your feelings were at the surface, and you were vulnerable at his expense.

But Steve didn’t care. 

“I—I can’t believe you’d say that,” You whispered, blinking the tears away when you took a step back, the hurt subsiding when it transformed into rage. “Fuck you,” You spat, your words weren’t slurred this time, but your vision was blurry again, barely taking another look at him when you started to walk away.

And he didn’t call out after you; he didn’t even flinch. 

You were all alone.

You let your emotions overtake you as you started sobbing, sniffling every once in a while as you tried to comfort yourself. 

Eddie could drop you home, you tried to reassure yourself, you knew there was a payphone close to The Hideout, if you could just walk a few more minutes, you could just call him—but holy fuck, did your feet hurt. You cursed yourself for not listening to Nancy when she told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

You were wobbly now, tears pouring down your cheeks, your smudged mascara distorting your view further, and it was dark out, so fucking dark that it started to scare you.

Your mind reeled more and more, and your chest felt trapped with each shallow breath you took. Eddie would’ve never uttered those words to you, your angry mind decided, Eddie wouldn’t flirt with girls—his exes—in front of you.

Eddie would never give you this sort of emotional whiplash.

And most importantly, Eddie would never leave you like this.

You felt so tired, just wanting to sleep, but you knew you couldn’t turn back now. Your feet were aching, but you’d rather they blistered than see Steve again.

You sat on the ground, relief washing over you when you got rid of your shoes, and the dirty, cold concrete ground felt so comforting that you nuzzled into the leather jacket, arms wrapped around yourself to provide more warmth as you sniffled into it.

You’re not sure if you can ever be with Steve anymore.

Sure, you could still be friends because you did have many big, stupid fights—granted, none of them were like this; this was different. 

This was the first big fight you had with him since you realized your feelings for him, and it hurt.

Steve was not who you thought he was.

He was never going to love you.

He only saw you as his friend, and right now, even that was questionable.

And there you were, pathetically pining after him while he was drooling all over other girls, chasing him down and making a mess of yourself just for him to leave you like this.

You sniffled again; Eddie would never, and he actually was interested in you.

God, how you wished he could find you now, take you home, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he tried to mend what Steve broke.

You knew it was selfish, but it was the only way.

Maybe if Eddie could make you forget him completely, he could remind you that you weren’t a mess and that you were perfect.

Your vision blurred again, hot tears were stinging your eyes, but the ground was so comfortable.

Steve was right, you were a mess, you were a huge fucking mess, and you were pathetic, but you didn’t care as you hugged yourself further, head falling into your lap as you let yourself fall more and more into the deep pit of despair.

And that’s the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t remember Steve running after you as he realized how much he fucked up; you don’t remember Steve seeing you curled up into a ball, almost falling asleep.

You don’t remember Steve lifting you up and carrying you before anything bad happened to you.

You don’t remember the apologies Steve muttered into your ear on the ride home, how he checked every few seconds to make sure you were okay, his hands never leaving yours as he wanted to punch himself for even putting you in a position like this.

You don’t remember Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he tucks you in, and you don’t remember him almost staying till the morning to make sure you were okay and didn’t get sick. 

The last thing you remember was the fight. 

You woke up the next morning with a groan, and you were sure no painkiller was going to help the pounding in your head. 

You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked in the mirror, your hair was an absolute mess, the top that adorned your neck was covered with alcohol stains, your make-up was smudged, and you only had one earring.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You sighed, taking off the dirty clothes as you put on a comfy shirt, your room was as messy as you were, bag on the floor while its contents spilled out, and… a leather jacket?

Slowly but surely, last night’s events came to you in a blur. The last thing you remembered was the fight you had with Steve. 

Both of you spewed some hurtful things at one another, and that’s the clearest you could remember it.

You examined the leather jacket sprawled over the floor, and your brows knitted together, Steve didn’t even have a jacket on last night; you remembered because Robin made fun of him for not bringing a jacket in February when Steve whined about being cold.

You read the tagline; E.M. 

Oh god.

Was it… Eddie? Did he drop you off when you were embarrassingly drunk?

Was Eddie the one who took care of you the whole night while Steve threw you away like a piece of paper?

You remembered the hurtful things he said to you; your mind was too jumbled up to even recall the nice things he said to you afterward.

You knew you have to talk to him, mend your friendship, but all you could think about now was Eddie, how he took care of you, and how he was there for you. 

That day you called him, and he told you in detail how wasted you were and how he had to carry you home. You made up with Steve afterward too, both of you muttering apologies to each other as you promised not to let stupid things get out of hand. 

And that day, Eddie took you on your first date with him. 

NOW

“Buckley, you mind ringing these up for me?” You beamed, throwing her an innocent smile, your eyes wandering off to Steve’s absence next to her.

You gave her the ‘Evil Dead II’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS tapes nonchalantly, waiting to ask her about Steve.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, “What kind of a double-feature is this supposed to be, huh?”

“A very fun one,” You said with a slight smirk, handing her a couple of bills.

You scanned the store, he was nowhere to be seen, of fucking course. “Harrington running from me again?” You almost cursed yourself for saying that out loud, but you couldn’t help it, something snarky would’ve slipped out eventually.

You saw Robin almost freeze, her mouth hanging open as her brain short-circuited to find a quick answer.

“I—It’s fine,” You mumbled. “Just tell him I would really like to talk to him. Once his weird tantrum is over?” You commented; it was snarky again, but he deserved it.

Five days had passed since the party, and Steve had been avoiding you like the plague, not returning your phone calls, and sneaking out the back each time you visited Family Video, and it was driving you crazy.

Determined to talk to him, you spent the last few days re-evaluating everything. You wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant—was everything that led to you dating Eddie a lie?

And did Steve never think to tell you this, even once the two of you broke up? His audacity was pissing you off, more than ever now that he was avoiding you.

Then small things started coming back to you in a flash, like the drunken confession you made to him last week.

But you were still clueless about The Hideout. You racked your brain away, but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. Even the fight with Steve was so vaguely burned into the back of your brain, you simply didn’t want to remember it, or the hurtful words he uttered to you that night.

You had decided to forgive and forget, had no intention of going back to that head space, until recently, when Steve decided to blurt out that he was the one in Hideout, leaving without explaining anything further.

You tried to fish it out of Robin, but she acted clueless, and you tried everything you could do to reach out to Steve, but it was useless.

So that only left you with one thing.

Eddie.

Eddie had told you the day after The Hideout incident that it was he who took you home, detailing everything that happened that night.

You were basically breathless by the time you made it to Eddie’s trailer, knocking on the door, until it hit you.

What the fuck were you doing? Knocking on Eddie’s door when he had no fucking clue what was happening, when he had no idea you and Steve had kissed.

When he had no idea that you knew.

You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned around, about to leave, coincidentally and to your dumb luck, that’s when Eddie had decided to open the door.

He stood speechless when he saw you, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Y/N?” He asked, tone barely audible.

“Hi.” You muttered, accepting Eddie’s invitation as he stood aside for you to enter, and you squeezed by him with a quick ‘thank you’

“Look, I know you’re wondering why the fuck your ex showed up at your door but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He interrupted

“I do have an idea,” He smirked slightly, causing you to throw him a confused look, you were about to open your mouth, ask a million questions, but he didn’t let you.

“I know everything,” He muttered, and you couldn’t decide his facial expressions. “Steve told me about all of it.”

“And I already told him there was no bad blood between me and you and that it was fine that you guys kissed—”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“What?!?” You exclaimed, not expecting Steve to babble about it to Eddie when he had been avoiding you.

“Look, honey, Steve was all blabbering and shit when he came to see me, tellin’ me all this shit about how much he liked you and how sorry he was,” Eddie said with a concerned look.

“And I told him it was all fine, Christ—when did we even date, like 2 years ago?” You didn’t answer him and he sighed. 

“I always knew the two of you had something for each other, I mean, why’d you think I got so jealous anytime you guys hung out together alone? He was definitely—“” He rambled for what felt like minutes, and you were quick to interrupt it, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what the fuck was going on.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, “That’s… uhm– good to know, but not what I came in here for,” You muttered, eyes wandering to the ground.

He threw you a quizzed look, brows knitted up together, “I–I wanted to ask you about something,” You gulped.

“Well, spill it out, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me all nervous and shit.” He gave you a dry chuckle.

“What–what exactly happened that day?” You knew he was going to ask what the fuck you were talking about, so you cut him off before he got a chance to speak.

“At The Hideout… Two years ago.” You could see Eddie almost panic visibly, he didn’t expect it, and did it really matter now, after everything?

“Shit… why won’t you ask Steve about all this?” He scratched his head, it was all awkward, you coming here, asking him something that was two years ago, Steve telling Eddie about the kiss while refusing to acknowledge you… 

It was embarrassing, really, and with each passing minute, a rage fueled inside of you. Sick of the hiding, and the lies. You just wanted the truth, and for Steve to not run at the first inconvenience.

“I would, if he didn’t avoid me like a fucking child,” You spat under your breath, causing Eddie to chuckle. He shook his head again.

“Right, so… I’m assuming since it was two years ago, you won’t be mad at me, right?” He asked, an innocent look spreading over his face, almost fearing as he saw how angry you were at Steve.

You almost rolled your eyes, these two idiots were making your blood boil. “Just want the truth, Munson, then I’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Right!” He chuckled nervously before telling you everything that happened that night.

You called Eddie right after you found his jacket, blabbering like an idiot as you thanked him a million times. While Eddie had no fuckin’ clue what had happened, he was still trying to get over his own hangover, but he wasn’t going to completely shut you down, not when he wanted you this badly, not when you were in the grasp of his hands.

As soon as you hung up, promising him a date, he called Steve, and he didn’t even have to beg him to play along; Steve was just... okay with it.

Steve knew the moment Eddie told him about his little crush that the two of you had no chance and that Steve would only be a little thought in the back of your mind, while Eddie would be the first choice, because why wouldn’t he?

Why would you choose him over Eddie?

And with all the sudden information flooding your mind, you weren’t sure how to react, how to vent all these emotions running through your veins, so you did it the only way you knew how; anger.

You checked the clock; 10.08

Steve’s shift should’ve ended long ago by now, you barely mumbled a goodbye to Eddie when you left, mind focused on one thing.

Steve.

You arrived at his door with your lips tightening and your jaw clenching, you weren’t going to give up now; you were going to talk to him. Now or never.

You knocked on the door so hard that you were sure your knuckles were bruising, and Steve was baffled when he opened the door, mouth almost agape as he looked at the sight in front of him.

“You know what you are? A fucking coward,” You mumbled, not giving him a second to process anything as you shook your head. 

“You are a selfish fucking coward! Do you think you can make decisions for other people? You think you can just take their choices away and pretend like everything is fucking fine!” Steve didn’t utter a word when you let it all out, your words meshing with each other, and you could feel your blood boiling each time you spoke, but it was… weirdly relieving.

All that pent up anger was finally coming out.

“And you told Eddie?!? You fucking talked to him but didn’t have the guts to even face me! Five days, five fucking days, I followed you around, you fucking jerk!” You spat, your eyes flashed with anger as your face came closer to him, he didn’t even flinch, eyeing you curiously, those deep honey glazed eyes were warming the more he looked at you.

And Oh God, was his gaze inviting, so warm, but you couldn’t soften up… not when you still had so much to say.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for me? No—no… Fuck that! I don’t even give a fuck if it's embarrassing, I’ve been–I’ve been living a lie and you–it’s your fault…” You mumbled the last part, chest heaving, when your fiery gaze met his, he was itching to talk, and you could tell.

“That—that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He muttered, causing your eyes to narrow, “Look why don’t we just go inside and have an adult conversation? No need for these tantrums—” And that hit a nerve. 

“Don’t,” You muttered, closing your eyes, the rage bubbling up to the surface again, gnawing at your skin, waiting to welcome you.

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me to have an ‘adult conversation’ when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague!” You exclaimed angrily, face heating with anger, Steve nodded, understandingly. He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he just wanted to talk to you. He had been debating what to do these last five days, and shutting you out during that was obviously stupid, but that’s how he handled everything, wallowing it all until he chewed his emotions, keeping them hidden.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked, almost defeated, and it made you want to chuckle, he was sending you over the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” It wasn’t a question; it was stupid for Steve to even attempt to open his mouth.

“You could have talked to me!” You took a deep breath; your anger wasn’t going to help, and if you didn’t talk to Steve as soon as possible, your head might have exploded.

You sighed as Steve stood aside, leading you to the living room, and your anger subsided with each step you took. The familiarity of the house was engulfing you, and you wanted to scream. 

What if Steve had told you this would change nothing?

What if this was it for the two of you?

Your head was swirling, and it hurt, both physically and emotionally. It was taking a toll on you and Steve could sense it.

“What—what really happened… that day?” You asked, voice barely audible as you avoided his gaze.

Steve sighed as he took a seat next to you on the couch, hand itching to lay on your thigh, squeeze it to make you feel comfortable, just so you would look at him, but he resisted it, hand flexing as he placed it between the two of you.

“You–you remember our fight?” He mumbled, causing you to nod. “We both said some stupid shit to each other—”

“Well, you started it—” You gazed up at him, and this time he threw you a look, causing you to close your mouth as if to signal him to continue.

“And—and you left… and the second you did, I just felt this horrible fucking pit in my stomach, I could never—I could never leave you like that,” His voice was shaking, hands flexing again as he inched closer to you.

“I found you on the street, Y/N, almost passed out, and I lost my goddamn mind for leaving you alone—even for a second, I ca—I can’t fucking imagine what I would even do if anything happened to one–one fucking strand of your hair—just the thought makes me sick to my stomach—Jesus.” He muttered, face still toward you as you could trace it now, the worried lines etched onto his forehead, a frown taking upon his usual plump lips, voice cracking as you could sense it, the utter worry and desperation in his voice. 

You couldn’t open your mouth, words failing you as you opted out to hold his hand instead, a small gesture, but one that made Steve’s entire stiffness disappear. One touch from you warming him up immediately.

“I took you home as fast as I could—I tucked you in, made sure you didn’t get sick, and then I left.” 

“Why?” You asked, meekly.

“Why did you let me believe it was him? Why did you ignore me that night?”

“It–it doesn’t matter now,” He mumbled, and your brows furrowed again, fury still locked up inside of you.

“It fucking does!” You snarled, insides burning with anticipation and anger.

“Stop being a fucking coward,” You yelled, you didn’t want to scream at his face, but he left you with no choice. If you wanted to talk to him, you had to get some things out of him, no matter how much it angered you.

“Just tell me, Steve, full transparency, I want it all out.”

Steve’s silence caused a groan out of you, “If you don’t, I’m gonna leave… for good,” You whispered. 

You were bluffing; you weren’t going to go anywhere without getting some closure, but Steve didn’t know that, and he had never seen you this riled up, so he sighed when you got up.

“I didn’t want to lose you!” He got up after you, staring at your back for a full minute until you turned around to meet him, a quizzed look overtaking your features.

“What?”

“God! I wanted to—Shit. I wanted to tell you about how I felt, but then Eddie came and he told me all about how he had feelings for you, and, uh, I just panicked— so fucking hard. I knew you would have chosen him, and I had that rejection one too many fuckin’ times, and I—I knew I couldn’t handle it from you!” He exclaimed, breath ragged as his brown orbs looked at you with such sympathy that you wanted to drop everything and kiss him, tell him that he would always be your first choice.

“I knew you would choose him and—” 

“I didn’t want to be a second choice again, Y/N, I was so fucking scared—” You shook your head.

“Steve you—god, you have no fucking clue about anything,” You chuckled dryly, interrupting him.

“When you ignored me for Tammy that night, when you told me that I wasn’t ‘worth it’ that’s when I decided to contain my feelings for you, I knew you didn’t like me for anything more than friends—I always thought we had a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of relationship but that night, confirmed it for me,” You looked away, almost ashamed, face burning up.

“I felt so fucking desperate—like you wanted to push me away like I was an idiot girl who was clinging onto you, and now everything is just so confusing that I don’t even know what is going on.” Your hands ran through your hair.

“But you were and will always be my first choice,” You didn’t mean to smile, but it just appeared, anger washing away. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You muttered, and Steve’s entire demeanor changed, his body relaxing as he realized how much of an idiot he had been.

“What?” He asked, baffled, a small smile overtaking his lips before you could say another word. 

“Yeah,” You murmured, taking a step closer to him, 

“So… we’re both idiots, huh?” He asked, basking in the way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as your warm aura engulfed him.

“Hmmm… I’d say it’s more you than me,” You mumbled, scrunching your nose, as Steve huffed playfully, inching closer and closer to you. You didn’t know where this took the two of you, but your mind was so busy when he was standing this close to you.

One strand of his hair fell onto his forehead, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through them, kiss every inch of his face, run your lips along his soft ones, feel his calloused hands on your curves, grabbing desperately, meek grunts leaving his lips, both of you breathless.

And that’s exactly what you did—without a care, you closed the distance between the two of you with an annoyed huff, fingers running through his shiny hair. 

His hands were quick to land on your hips, grabbing them like he was afraid of you slipping away, once again. And it all felt so easy and familiar that you could feel your head spinning.

His lips brushed against yours softly. You didn’t want this moment to be over, wanting to cling to him forever. Everything he did made you feel foolish and insane, and you understood why being in love felt like losing your mind, again.

Steve groaned into your lips, kissing you harder, once, twice, his lips never fully letting go of you, and you didn’t know if it would ever be enough for you, utterly craving nothing but him.

Your mind was jelly at this point, everything was tangled together while the question of ‘What’s going to happen now?’ lingered in your mind. Did he still want you? Did he still want to be together? Why didn’t he just come to you after talking to Eddie? 

You tried to shake them off, tried to focus on the way Steve’s hands stuck to your body, like they belonged there, and the way his lips moved along yours, like it had always been this way.

You wanted to continue, wanted so badly to not let this moment go, but the bickering voices in your head were too much, and you pulled away slowly. Steve almost groaned when he felt the absence of your lips. He blinked once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” He unintentionally let out, gaze filled with lust as his pupils were blown wide, and a small giggle left your lips. “You are an idiot,” You whispered, your gaze settling on him. 

Was everything going to be okay?

How were you even going to manage to make this work? 

And with that, your expression soured, “Steve,” You said seriously, causing him to look up at you with concern all over his face. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” You murmured, forehead touching his.

“I won’t hurt you, ever.” His gaze was intense, and it made you feel giddy, worries washing away in seconds. You don’t know how he fucking did it, but it worked. 

And you trusted him like no one else. 

You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched into a smile. “You promise?” You gushed.

“With all my heart, honey.” He whispered, taking a deep breath. 

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming about this...”

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.” He muttered, his hands tucking the strand of hair that was blocking him from placing messy kisses all over your face. 

“I couldn’t handle losing you, not again,” He murmured before leaning in to press more kisses all over your soft lips.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bonus scene: just for shits n giggles idk

“What movies did you get today?” He asked with a childish grin on his lips.

“If you weren’t avoiding me, you would’ve known, pretty boy.” You exclaimed dramatically, crossing your arms against your chest.

Pretty boy.

The only thing that stuck in Steve’s brain was that he was your pretty boy.

And this giddy feeling inside of him was never going to go away, he decided.

He huffed playfully before he grabbed your bag, causing you to gasp. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he tried to find the VHS tapes.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he grabbed the two of them, turning the cover to see what movies you rented. 

“Oh my god,” He murmured. “A double-feature? For us?” He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile, so warm that you wanted to bathe in the glory of making him this happy.

“Mhmm… First, Evil Dead II for me, and once Stevie gets scared, we’ll put on Dirty Dancing.” You give him a wink.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” He groaned. “You are so fucking perfect, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

another a/n: so this is a bit messy bc i had too many ideas and this is the best i could do to fit them all in, i hope this doesn't feel that disconnected from the first!! work has been kicking my ass lately so my mind is all mushed lmao!! feel free to leave ur feedback and pls comment, like or reblog to support me ily <33

[honestsycrets]

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.

[rainyinautumn]

Scar does not lay down and die. He’s fought too hard to go out like that.

It’s a strange feeling, to know that he’s in full control of when he dies. No one chasing him down, no ticking clock, no curses. Sure, he doesn’t have regen, but he has a full row of hearts—a whole life ahead of him that he can spend in Sunflower Valley.

He doesn’t remember until he arrives that there’s nothing for him there. It’s about fifty percent craters. Some of them are blackened by the wither, and others by gunpowder. Despite it all, though, there are still sunflowers. Not many, but they’re facing his way when arrives, as if trying to be the welcoming party he never had. Scar sits down at the edge of one of the craters and swings his feet back and forth over the drop. It’s not deep enough to kill him, hardly even deep enough to take a heart off of him. The ash settled at the bottom is picked up by the wind, blowing into Scar’s boots and hair. He doesn’t wipe it out. It’s his only reminder that he wasn’t always alone in this world.

Across the crater, the air shimmers purple. Before Scar can figure out what it is, the color coalesces into a ghostly figure with a faint halo that shines just like the sun. Grian smiles at him wanly and holds out a bouquet of poppies and lilacs.

“You’ve won, Scar,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

“But I’m not ready yet,” he objects.

“He didn’t get me any flowers,” Scott mutters as he sits down beside him, transparent and crowned with a dozen tiny stars. “Trust me, you’re ready. You’ve won. There’s nothing left.”

“Well, I never had much anyway,” Scar says coolly. “Can’t say this feels too different.”

“I know.” Pearl’s voice comes from his other side along with the soft glow of the moon, and his heart aches, unwilling to turn toward her. “I know, but the game’s over, Scar. You did well.”

He wants to tell her sorry, but that would be disingenuous. He wouldn’t change a thing about that fight—the only thing he regrets is that it had to be her.

“More than well, I’d say.” Martyn takes shape in the center of the crater, his coral crown glittering the angry red of Mars. “I’m loving the trend of villainous winners we’ve got going here. Who do you think’s gonna be next? Joel? Gem?”

“Maybe we’re due for a more heartfelt finale,” Scott says, sending a sidelong glance Scar’s way. “No offense.”

“Didn’t you win through a battle royale?” he retorts.

“Didn’t we all?” Grian sighs. “It’s just the way of the game. Killing people. It’s a bit hard to get a heroic winner out of that.”

Scar stares at his feet. “I thought I’d feel more relieved,” he admits. “Like I’d- like I’d, y’know, won something. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, it’s all just kinda…”

“Empty?” Grian fills in for him.

“Disappointing?” Scott suggests.

“Sad?” Pearl says.

Martyn kicks a rock. “Fleeting?”

“One of those things,” Scar sighs. “So… now what?”

“I already told you,” Grian huffs, tired but good-natured. “It’s time to go.”

“Die, you mean,” Scar says. “It’s time for me to die.”

Martyn draws an axe that looks far more corporeal than the rest of him. “It’s my turn to take you out,” he tells him. “I was planning on a nice quick beheading, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Scar stammers, scrambling backward. “I don’t get to choose how I go?”

“Well, sort of,” Grian explains. “You’ve won. The only thing that can take you out now is another winner.”

“Pearl zapped me when my time was up,” Martyn says. “Didn’t hurt for more than a second.”

“And what if I don’t let you?” Scar asks.

Scott puts a hand on his shoulder, but it goes right through. “There’s no way around this, Scar.”

“Martyn has to kill you,” Pearl reiterates. “It’s not up to him, or us, or you. No one can move on until you’re gone.”

“Says who?”

Grian gestures broadly at the horizon. “Who do you think?”

The Secretkeeper looms in the distance, a dark sky overhead. It’s watching him. Scar knows it is. It’s waiting, impatient as ever, for its final task to be completed.

Martyn hefts his axe over his shoulder. The move should be threatening, but there’s no malice in it. His hand sits firmly on the handle, white-knuckled and duty-bound, but the rest of him is relaxed. He doesn’t want this to be a fight.

“I guess everyone’s waiting on me, huh?” Scar says. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks up to Martyn and kneels, removing his hood to expose the back of his neck. He feels the cold edge of the axe blade placed against it and screws his eyes shut.

“Any last words?” Martyn asks.

“I’m taking away all your reputation points for this.”

He laughs, genuine and nostalgic. “Fair enough.”

The axe lifts, and a breeze ruffles Scar’s hair as it comes back down on his neck.

There’s a searing flash of pain, and then nothing. His eyes stay closed, staring at the darkness.

“Scar,” Grian says, his voice closer than before. “Scar, it’s done.”

He blinks warily, taking a moment to process the view he sees. The rest of the world now has the shimmering transparency of the ghosts, while the other winners are now solid and real in front of him. Grian is still holding the bouquet—when he extends it to Scar, it changes shape, twisting into a flower crown.

“Wait,” Pearl says. “One last thing.” She waves her hand and two glowing sunflowers wrap themselves into the wreath, blooming side by side. “There.”

Grian steps forward, right in front of Scar, who’s still kneeling in the center of the crater. “Congratulations, Scar,” he says. “You won.”

The crown is a perfect fit.

[seokgyuu]

hi beloved mitchie :) my phone autocorrected ur name to mischief which seems very fitting hehe! so anyway. deekay who always begs you to sit on his face because he wants to feel you suffocating him as he drowns in your pussy and not just any deekay but specifically this deekay because he wants to feel you dripping down his neck

A/N: YOU ARE CRAZY. But of course, you ask I deliver. I hope you enjoy!

PAIRING: Dokyeom x Reader

GENRE: Smut MDNI!

WARNINGS: kinda sub!seokmin/dom!reader, usage of the word slut for seokmin, reader has female anatomy, begging, oral (f receiving), face sitting, squirting, multiple orgasms (f)

WORD COUNT: 1420 (I'm not joking)

Requests are open! Check out my 1k special!

Smut under the line.

“Please baby,” his voice is dripping in lustful honey, wrapping around your whole body and soul, pulling you down into its dirty trenches. Fingers press against your hips and you feel heat between your legs, a continuous throbbing that only gets worse the more you look at him. Tingles all over your skin, wishing to be touched, wishing to be worshiped. You bite your bottom lip hard, almost drawing blood as you let your fingers wander over his perfectly shaped face, reaching up to softly caress his carefully styled hair. 

“You just got here, my love, in your pretty outfit, with your pretty hair… and you already want to drown in my pussy? Is that all I am to you?” 

His eyes grow wide, hands pulling you closer as he rapidly shakes his head.

“No! No, of course not, my love. You are so much more to me, but… I need you, I want you so bad, I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. Would have been here sooner but because I couldn’t concentrate, the shoot lasted even longer…,” he almost whispers his words, his feet carrying him, having him push you against the wall, his hands sneaking down to your bare thighs. 

“And now I get here and you’re wearing nothing but my shirt, babe, you must understand-,”

“Oh, I must do nothing,” you interrupt him, a small grin on your lips as you let his hands wander regardless, your legs spreading for him, “I understand that my boy is a horny little slut that doesn’t have it in him to wait. Did the stylists allow you to keep that outfit, baby? Or did you just take off the second they called “cut”?”

Seokmin is kissing your neck, his one hand already between your legs, feeling the wetness that has already gathered. He moans when you call him a slut, his teeth sinking into your sensitive skin and you let both of your hands rest on the back of his head, digging into his scalp.

“I am… such a horny slut for you, babe, please let me eat you out, wanna taste you… drown in your sweetness, please?” His breath feels like a soft spring breeze against you, feels so comfortable and familiar and it makes your heart race and your cunt clench. You nod, not able to hold back any longer because he just looks too good and you’ve been craving his mouth on you for hours now. 

The second you give him the go, he is on his knees. Your panties are discarded on the floor and his tongue is licking through your wet folds, your head bumping against the wall as you continue to stroke his soft hair. He loves your taste. Loves the way you sound when he does certain things with his tongue. He knows you inside out by now, knows where to kiss you, touch you, where to put his tongue and for how long. He knows it and he does it. Flicks his tongue against your clit, fingers slipping through your lips, coating them in your wetness. He smells you and he tastes you and he feels you all around. His senses are you and there is nothing he wants more than for you to drench his face in your cum. 

“So, so sweet for me. So perfect, my love,” he licks up a stripe from entrance to clit before pushing a finger in, having you moan his name. His finger moves slowly at first, slowly but hitting you deep, your sweet spot engraved in his brain. He kisses your cunt, kisses it as if it was your mouth, tongue swirling as if it was dancing with yours. He sucks your clit between his lips, tongue around it in circles and you cry out, nails digging into his scalp once more. 

“Oh.. oh god, Seokmin,” you feel yourself nearing a first orgasm and Seokmin wraps his free arm around you, pulling you closer as he sucks on your lips, sucks on every bit of skin he can get, making such dirty noises with his mouth it gets your cheeks all heated up. 

Then he stops and you feel like crying. You look down at him and his eyes are telling. He is going to beg for something. 

“Baby… can you sit on my face? Please, I wanna drown in your sweetness“, he still pumps his finger inside you, adding a second one now and you gasp, nodding your head yes because there is nothing else you can do at this point.

You move to the couch, Seokmin on his back, still in his expensive photoshoot outfit, mesh shirt showing his toned chest and torso and you position yourself above him, thighs spread over his head. He licks his lips resting his hands on your ass as you sit down. The first times you had been scared to literally suffocate him - but he hadn’t been. He had begged you and he did so every other day. He simply loved your pussy, loved smelling it, eating it, feeling it. 

The second you sit down, he is back at work. Your moans fuel him, make him more eager. He squeezes your ass, and soon enough you know he is encouraging you to actually fuck his face. Biting your lip, you let your hands play with your tits, hips moving as he shoves his tongue into your hole, a loud whimper escaping your throat. Your juices are dripping down his face, his nose bumping into your clit repeatedly and you feel like you’ve reached heaven. Seokmin feels about the same. Nothing is as wonderful to him as this. His beloved partner on his face, riding his tongue like it was his cock. He puts his all into this, his cock straining against his designer pants that he knows he has to give back eventually. He doesn’t care though. Doesn’t care that you’re dripping down his neck, some of it probably landing on the pearl necklace and meshed top. He doesn’t care that he will give back cum drenched clothes and accessories - all he cares about is making you cum over and over again. 

Your first orgasm hits you a few seconds later, when his tongue is pressed against your bud and his hand grabs the flesh of your ass harshly. You ride it out, moans filling the air of the room that already smells like you. Seokmin doesn’t stop, he only works harder, wants you to let it all out, wants to be suffocated by you, by your cum, your taste and smell. He pushes you down, and you let out the loudest moan yet, hands gripping the armrest of the couch, hips moving frantically on top of his face.

“F-fuck, Seokmin! D-Don’t stop, oh my god,” you feel tears prickling, overstimulation kicking in and having your whole body shake. You know it won’t take long for him to make you cum again, to have you squirt on his face. You also know that that’s exactly what he wants to achieve and you’re more than willing to give it to him. 

Moving his hand, you soon feel three of his fingers pushing into you at once, your eyes rolling back and for a second you’re scared you’ll fall off him - but his other arm is quick to wrap around you, holding you steady as he fucks you with his fingers and sucks on your clit, your wetness dripping with no end in sight. Feeling another wave of pleasure, his fingers hitting you, stuffing you so perfectly, the familiar feeling of liquid shooting out of and drenching everything beneath you is having you cry out, actual tears spilling out of your eyes as Seokmin moans around your clit, drinking in all he can, lapping at the juice he deems as the tastiest drink there is. He can never get enough of it, almost like an addiction. A second orgasm follows straight away, black and white dots appearing in front of your eyes as you ride this one out as well, all while Seokmin has never been happier. 

The second you’re done, he lets go off your hip and you fall to the side, Seokmin catching you skillfully and pressing you against his wet chest. His whole face is covered in you, his hair wet as well and your heavy eyelids flutter open to look at him and smile sheepishly.

“You’re insane,” you mumble and peck his lips, having him giggle.

“I’m only insane about you, babe.” 

[gatorbites-imagines]

So what about Price, König, Alejandro, and Gaz finding their boyfriend asleep under a tree, but he has a couple of wild animals asleep on him along with a book in hand.(bonus point if he has glasses)

John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, and König

Headcanons

I chose some random animals for this, no specific country in mind lmao.

John Price

-          Price doesn’t really know what to do when he goes looking for you and finds you asleep, with a whole ass mountain lion sleeping in your lap. The feline just opens its eye a smidge to look at Price and goes back to sleep.

-          The book is laying on the mountain lions back as you snooze, glasses sliding down your nose as half cuddled against the feline.

-          He slowly moves closer, ready to move if the mountain lion decides to attack but it just keeps snoozing in your lap. Price carefully wakes you up, always keeping an eye on the feline until you wake up.

-          He wants to pull you away to safety immediately, but you pet the feline some more before carefully pushing it off your lap and getting your things and leaving with Price.

-          He tells you not to do that again, because what the hell, and you could get very hurt if the animal wasn’t that friendly. Price definitely keeps an eye on you from then on out to make sure you don’t go cuddle wild animals again.

 Alejandro Vargas

-          Alejandro goes looking for you after he’s been in meetings all day, and when he sees you asleep under a tree he smiles and goes to maybe kiss you awake. Then he notices the snake in your lap, along with the golden eagle loafing beside you.

-          He kinda freezes with visible confusion on his face, because huh?? The eagle is death glaring him as he tries to scoot closer, the bird looking like it wants to maul him for bothering their sleepy time.

-          The snake is asleep on your hands that are holding the book, it rattles its tail at Alejandro, so he quickly backs off and just kinda, stands at a distance and watches in confusion and worry.

-          He doesn’t freak out as much as he should since the animals seem completely calm with you, but those are dangerous animals and they’re just?? Sleeping with you??

-          When you finally wake up, he watches you pet the animals a bit, put the snake on the ground, get up, and just wander on over to him to give him a kiss.

-          He tells you not to go sleep outside anymore, because he’s sure you’re cursed or something like that if you keep drawing dangerous animals to you.

 Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

-          Gaz calls you his Disney prince because animals are drawn to you, especially after he catches you sleeping with animals all over you.

-          He immediately pulls out his phone to take pictures when he finds you asleep with at least 3 raccoons all over you, hummingbirds in your hair, and a fox draped over your legs.

-          Its his phone background and he sends the picture to all the other members of the team.

-          When he can’t find you he always goes to check outside because your typically out there reading with animals cuddling you.

-          There’s been at least one time where some squirrels or birds have stolen your glasses, and to Gaz´s confusion you are somehow able to convince the animals to give them back.

-          He thinks you are cute but he does not want you to come anywhere near him with a good amount of the animals, especially when you bring a rattlesnake into your shared bedroom because “it looked cold :(“

 König

-          König almost faints when he cant find you, goes to look, and finds you cuddling a grizzly bear. He starts panicking, thinking its dangerous, until he notices how the bear is just nuzzling you and licking your hair.

-          When he sneaks closer the bear allows him, though it won’t let you go since it has its paw wrapped around you. So, König just sits down beside you, ready to bolt if he has too.

-          He ends up carefully taking the book you were reading from your hands and starting to read it himself when it finally hits him that the bear is apparently completely harmless. He can’t help the way his heartrate goes up whenever it moves though.

-          When you finally wake up the two of you stay sitting for a while, just talking quietly, until you have to go back to base. You wiggle out of the bears hold, which makes it obvious it isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled a bear, and the two of you leave.

-          When the two of you get away from the bear König almost collapses because of the nerves and anxiety that whole experience gave him. He quietly asks you not to do that again, or he might not survive.

[acewithapaintbrush]

This is now on Ao3 we well

Shanks has been acting weird ever since he ate that stupid fruit. 

"Are you angry with me?" Luffy asks one day when Shanks once again looks at him 'that way' and the stupid, sticky feeling in his chest just won't go away. 

The pirate blinks and takes a sip of his beer before he answers. The sticky feeling grows bigger. "How is your picture coming along?" 

Luffy scrunches up his nose so his tears won't fall. That's what Makino does when she doesn't want to answer his questions. Ask a question herself so he forgets what he was asking in the first place. But Luffy is smarter now, a big boy, and this is important. He pointedly puts the pencil down and doesn't forget. 

"Is Shanks angry with me 'cause I ate the stupid fruit?" 

Maybe he wasn't so successful about the tears because Shanks lowers his tankard and he gets this serious look on his face, the one he gets when he tells Luffy that the sea is a dangerous place and that he's not ready yet (he is he is he is). 

"No Luffy, I'm not angry." He sighs and seems to look through the little boy for a moment and mumbles under his breath. "A little worried, maybe." 

But Luffy has good ears. "Why?" 

Shanks jolts as if he didn't expect to have been heard. After a second of indecision he grins and ruffles dark hair. "Worried you are gonna eat the hair off of our heads! Why would you eat a fruit anyway? I thought you only liked meat?" 

Luffy shoves his hand away with a huff. He likes it when Shanks ruffles his hair, but he can't let the captain know that 'cause it's just another sign that he's still a little kid.

"I do! But the fruit told me to!" 

Luffy is too busy smoothing down his hair to notice Shanks grow absolutely still beside him. The whole crew, who has had one ear on their conversation this whole time, freezes. Tankards pause midair, conversations break off abruptly, chewing stops. An unnatural quiet falls over the bar. 

Shanks takes a deep breath. He runs a hand over his mouth, tries to gather enough spit to speak. 

"The fruit told you?" he asks, careful, casual. He needn't have bothered. Luffy is already bent over his paper again, drawing himself as a member of Shanks crew, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. 

(the picture will leave the port with Shanks weeks later and he will treasure it for the rest of his life but it will also always remind him of this moment, the moment he finally gets it, the moment it all falls into place, the missing puzzle piece he didn't even know he was missing) 

"Uh huh! The box made a sound, like bump bump bump and when I looked inside the fruit told me to take a bite, told me it would be fun, we would have lots of fun together. But it wasn't fun, it tasted bad." He sticks out his tongue and makes a face. "Super bad. But I guess rubber power is kinda fun. So I'll forgive the stupid fruit for tasting bad." 

Shanks is trying his hardest to breathe. He can feel Beck come up behind him, can feel him put a hand on his shoulder. The hand is shaking. "Kid, what-" 

"It was dark in that box." Luffy says. He sounds absent, his voice flat and distracted. His red pencil moves over the paper in a slow, meticulous manner, as if on auto pilot. Shanks can't shake the feeling that they aren't really talking to Luffy anymore. Or at least not only Luffy. 

"It was dark and you can't be free in the dark, you can't bring freedom in the dark. You need a light. You need the sun. There is a lot of sun on the seas, even in dark places. So we are gonna sail the seas and be free. And we're gonna have so much fun." 

Beck is crushing his shoulder, the whole crew is holding its breath. This feels like something sacred, like a moment in time that will never come again, a conversation that could change your whole life.

Roger would know what to say. 

Roger would laugh and know exactly what to say. 

Shanks feels like crying. He has no idea what to say.

"I-" 

The tip of the red pencil breaks off and Luffy flinches the slightest bit. He blinks at the paper as if he's seeing it for the first time before he grins and holds it up for Shanks and the others to see. 

"It's done! Do you like it?" 

Shanks isn't really looking at the drawing. All he sees is that boy and that grin and those eyes, bright and alive. 

"Joyboy." 

Luffy tilts his head. "What?" 

Shanks puts a hand over his heart and tells it to stop beating so hard, tells his voice to stop shaking. "You are truly a joy, my boy." 

It's a weird thing to say, nothing he's ever told Luffy before. But the kid beams and leans forwards as if Shanks has just offered him the world on a silver platter. 

(You have, haven't you? The world in a box.) 

"Does that mean you'll take me with you?" 

Shanks laughs and it sounds normal, it sounds familiar again. He pokes a small forehead and grins. 

"Nope. You are not ready yet." 

'But you will be,' he thinks as Luffy pouts and the rest of the crew tease him. 'One day you will be ready. And just maybe the rest of the world will be ready for you as well.' 

[444rockstargf]

hey there! just wanted to request a lil smut with female reader and clyde when kinda experienced reader takes clydes v card and hes like super shy n stuff and its just really cute :)

aww i like this one! :))

"kissing you hard, got my lipstick on your face." | clyde

roses. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly

female!reader x virgin!clyde

word count: 1.8k

contents: unprotected p in v

the night was still young, and the fun was just about to begin. from raging parties to slow makeout sessions in the back of clyde’s van, there was never a dull moment when you were with him.

tonight’s activity wasn’t anything special, but it held much potential for moving to the next level in your relationship. he was sprawled across the couch with you lying face down on top of him. he tangled complicated swirls into your hair and he used his other hand to draw mindless patterns onto your soft skin with his fingertips.

your eyes momentarily flickered to the movie that was playing on the television, your mind travelling to something that has strangely never occurred in you and his agenda. you had been through it all together: through the best and worst times of your life, he had always been there. you two had a palpable connection that took years to build and would only grow stronger. but you couldn’t shake the thought that you and him weren’t fully united.

he had never touched you. and it was mutual. the most heated you’d ever gotten with him was lying down on top of him as his boner pressed into your stomach, and even then, he insisted that you could have the bed to yourself for the night, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with the awkward occurrence of his erection.

but that had been your plan all along. you wanted to lead him on so that you could finally take that deeper step into your relationship. but as usual, he found a convenient way to turn you down. the first few times he avoided getting intimate with you, you paid no mind to it. but as the years passed, you got the impression that it wasn’t as much of a coincidence as you thought.

you snapped back into reality as he gently caressed your hips, his heavy-lidded eyes shutting as exhaustion spread through his body. your heart warmed at the sight, but the raging question still burned in your mind. you had pushed it back for as long as you could remember, but there was no better time than now.

you shook him a little. once, then twice before tickling him a little. you whispered gently in his ear. “clyde, wake up…” your lips just barely brushed against his ear lobe making his eyes spring open. his gaze met your bug, dolly eyes looking right back at him, causing a smile to tug at his lips. he pulls you into a tender kiss, holding it for a few seconds before speaking.

“what’s up, doll..?” god. his voice alone was enough to send blood rushing down to your sensitive bud. you cleared your throat slightly, deciding how to approach this. you could either ease him into the topic, slowly undressing yourself until he took charge, or you could just rip the bandaid off and get straight to it. considering all your past failed attempts, you decided to go with the latter.

you caressed his cheek with your thumb, his cold skin warming up with your touch. his breathing was barely audible over yours, the tension becoming stronger by the second. he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you into him even more before slowly connecting his lips with yours once again, drinking you in as your hearts raced in unison.

short gasps slipped from his lips as you caressed his jawline. the movie droned on in the background but you had managed to get him to tune that out. his hands ran up and down your back as your hand slowly slipped down to his throbbing manhood. as soon as he caught onto what you were getting at, he pulled away from the kiss, his once pale skin now flushed brick-red.

he laughed nervously, putting some distance between the two of you. he looked at you, struggling to get his words out as his mind rushed. “w-we almost forgot about this movie, huh?” his eyes bounced around the room, displaying clear discomfort. you frown, beginning to see the bigger picture. 

he notices your change in mood. he pats you on the head, smiling sheepishly before turning his attention back to the screen. with a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the remote out of his grip, turning off the tv. he looks at you with confusion painted all over his face. “baby..?” you toss the remote to the side, sitting up and pulling him with you. 

you take a deep breath. it was now or never, and at this point you were just dying to know the answer to your question. “why won’t you have sex with me..?” as soon as you spoke, you cursed yourself for being so forward. your cheeks burned as you caught a glimpse of his flushed expression.

he chokes on his words, unable to give you any sort of response. this only fills your heart with even more dread. “am i the problem, clyde? is it me?” that dumb, stunned expression remains on his face. your patience snaps like a thread. “answer me! is it because im to-” your negative words are cut off but yet another embrace, his lips locking with yours with more passion than ever.

he holds this kiss for a long time, allowing your tongues to mesh together and explore each other more than ever before. his hands travel up your shirt, lifting it up and disconnecting your lips for just a second to pull it over your head. he takes a moment to stare at your body for a moment. you sat bare in front of him, your nipples hardening from the cool air.

his hands were wrapped around your waist as he took in your body for the first time. this was the closest to nude that he’d ever seen you. “s-so perfect…” his gaze travelled down your figure, stopping at your black panties. he went to go pull down the fabric, but you stopped him, placing a hand on his heart. “you haven't answered my question…”

he too a deep shaky breath, realizing that the truth would come out eventually. “ive been pushing back on doing it with you b-because… im a virgin…” his voice got quiet at the end, but suddenly you understood. you placed your hands in his hair, running your fingers through his brown locks as he continued to speak.

“dont get me wrong. ive thought about it, like a lot. like whenever we kiss or sleep together or you sit on my lap or-” he begins to ramble, getting turned on just by the thought of you in this state. his eyes meet your breasts once more before they move up to your eyes. he sighs deeply, speaking more solemnly this time. “y-your perfect, and i just don’t wanna mess up or hurt you or anything, y’know?” you scoot onto his lap a little more, feeling his hard-on pressing right against your wet, clothed pussy.

his ears started to tingle as his body begged for you. he made eye contact with you, exchanging a thousand words that didn’t even need to be said. he started pulling up his shirt, tossing it to where yours was before wrapping his arms around you. after a few moments, he finally says the words you’ve been dying to hear. “im ready for you, baby…”

in a flash, your wet panties along with his baggy sweatpants were discarded, leaving both on your bare as you hungrily embraced eachother. your mouths reconnected, the kisses becoming sloppier as each second passed. you lifted your hips, getting a light grip on his painful erection. he hisses sharply at the feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock, but he just watches, allowing you to take the lead.

you use his tip to tease the entrance of your dripping cunt, slurred moans slipping from your parted lips. clyde places his gentle hands onto your hips, helping you sink down onto his length. he fills you up pretty easily, but you gasp at the feeling of his length in your hole. he gets a stab of worry.

“are you ok? does this hurt?” you can sense the worry in his voice, but you start rocking your hips against him slowly. he takes your hands in his for support as the overwhelming feeling turns to one of pleasure. he exhales deeply, allowing his body to submit to the sensation. he watched as you slowly rode him, his precum making the perfect lube. 

clyde quickly gets into the feeling, getting a better sense of what he’s doing. he slips a hand to your throbbing clit, starting to rub slow circles onto it. louder moans emerge from your throat, giving the signal that he’s doing the right thing. “t-this is ok..?” he still sounds unsure, but when you nod shakily, he speeds up his motions, hearing the wet sounds your sweet little pussy makes.

time begins to go elastic as you quicken up your pace, the sounds of breathless moans and skin slapping filling the room. clyde’s mouth is on one of your tits, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple as he uses his hand to work on the other one. your tight cunt squeezes against his length, causing his occasional groans to become more frequent.

your eyes travelled down his toned, muscular body, making you wonder why you hadn’t down this sooner. his dilated pupils swallowed his baby blue irises, making him look much more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. the moment comes when he feels that bundle of heat forming in the depths of his gut, signalling his first orgasm.

the sensation is completely unfamiliar to him, and his body gets overwhelmed with the feeling once more, but before he can get a word out, he’s shooting his ropes of cum into your core. you throw your head back, riding him at a rapid pace and making both your bodies jump, your tits bouncing right in front of his face.

you milk him completely dry, not stopping until you sense his overstimulation. you pull yourself off of him, letting his cum drip out of your hole and back onto his girth. you collapsed on top of him, panting as you recollected yourself from being filled up so much. if he hadn’t told you that this was his first time, you never would’ve guessed.

clyde gently caresses your cheek, looking at you as the realization finally sinks in. you had taken his virginity. you allowed him to take that major step into manhood. silence filled the room as you closed your eyes, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. the silence was broken by a question that you never would’ve expected. “so… round 2?”

author's note: im back from my unannounced break yall :)) i got two requests this morning plus one from last week that im going to try to get out this weekend. hope you all enjoyed!

[wannabe-cartoonist-blog]

Last Game hair style fixes, in order of who needed it most.

I've never liked the canon hair styles in Last Game. They're either hideous, or just simply don't fit the characters/style of the main series. I get its a (mostly different) art department and meant to age the characters up, but most of the time, they simply just look off-model to me. I know I'm not the only one who's got issues with the hairstyles in this movie too, so I did my best to fix them up and give them styles that I personally think suite them. Originals below cut as well as my explanations! Important to note, these are my preferences/headcanons for them so take everything I'm about to say with a grain of salt.

**Akashi isn't here, because believe it or not, I actually think his hair looks the best out of everyone in LG.

I wouldn't change it. I like to draw him with neater hair/his bangs pushed out of his face when I age him up, but for the summer after the Winter Cup - when LG takes place - the canon hair is exactly the sort of style I think he would/should have. I like the allegory that the rough chop is something he did when his mental health wasn't good, so now as his mental scars heal, it's growing back out. ❤️

Midorima

A neater/shorter hairstyle does fit Mido's character/personality, but the LG hair simply just doesn't look like the same hair type we see in the main series. Mido's hair has got the slightest wave to it (which I tend to over-exaggerate whenever I draw him).

With this in mind, I went and gave his hair some more body/volume by extending the sides. (You'll see a lack of volume/body is the key issue with the other LG hairs as well).

Murasakibara

Mura's hair in this movie looks so so flat and greasy. Now I didn't do the best job fixing it up, but this is basically how you'd go about doing it; just add more flowy strands. His hair is pretty pin-strait in canon, but there's lots of flowing strands, even when he's not moving much, which give it a clean-look.

When it's all just one limp form, like the movie does, it appears unclean as opposed to just long and sleek.

Momoi

Another victim of the lack of body/volume. The style they gave her is also simply bad, like she just took a pair of scissors and cut in a straight line. There isn't even really any style to it. Its kinda just laying there on her head, which is not what her hair usually looks like in the main series. There's always strands/some lift to it. Also Momoi has always had some sort of bangs/framing pieces in her face, so for her whole forehead to be out was just a tiny bit jarring.

I think the style I came up with is a little more mature while still having personality and life to it. Plus, LG takes place in the summer, so a shorter hair style would be more comfortable in the heat.

Kise

Kise I don't think I did a good job of fixing to my liking either. It was hard to edit it without making it look bad in general, because I really don't think this choppy sort of style suites him like at all, so it was too much to change. Now his hair is one of the better drawn ones in this movie for sure, but it feels more like a Kagami hairstyle than a Kise one to me. I just don't think his modeling agency would let him have such a choppy, hard-to-style haircut. I also think a more polished look fits his handsome, princely sort of appeal that makes him popular with girls.

Aomine

Alright, now its time for me to be playful and silly with some out-there hair styles. Aomine (and Kagami's hair) in Last Game I don't mind. After Akashi, I would say Aomine looks the best. BUT. We have NEVER seen Aomine with long hair, even in flashbacks when he's a child.

So for him to finally decide to grow out his hair - in the SUMMER HEAT - just feels like a weird move to me. Feels out of character. He strikes me as someone who likes his hair out of his face when he plays ball and just wants to roll out of bed and not worry about brushing/styling it or anything. The animators also aren't consistent in this movie and sometimes his hair looks particularly long in the front and back, which again, I don't think he'd like. This picture below and the ones above are from the same movie/take place within like a week of each other, yet look so different.

He looks cute and it definitely gives him a more youthful look; which is a weird choice, because they want to age up everyone else but Aomine in this movie. So, I think a fade would really suite him (I don't think I drew it that well tho). Keeps his hair short and out of his face but also ages him up a little more with a mature style.

Kagami

Alright, Kagami's look here is pure indulgence. @knbposting said "Kagami with a mullet" and I haven't stopped thinking about it. Sue me. His LG hair isn't bad and makes sense for his character and the time of year. But its just sorta plain. Honestly, Kise's hair style in this movie would probably suite Kagami more. I always liked how in the main series, Kagami's hair is a little scruffy in the back so I really wanted to lean into that.

Is a mullet suitable for the summer heat/something he'd like? Well, maybe not but I think it ages him up while also seeming like something he'd get at some point in his life. So here we are. I will end this with saying this is probably the longest he'd ever let his hair get.

Kuroko

Finally, we have Kuroko, whose hair I've barely changed. Now, the animators/artists do a really bad job of keeping his face on-model (eyes too beady, features too sharp) but that's a whole 'nother issue, and I managed to find a scene where they kept him on-model lol. I think a shorter, neat style is good for the summer and suites him, but a main feature of all the hair throughout the main series is the spikes/strands of hair on nearly every character - Kuroko especially - so I just added a tiny bit more here.

And that's the end! If you read all the way to here, thanks for coming to my insane-person rant.

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital setting, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

It was an easy day. Or, it was supposed to be. Hell, you had dinner plans. But, working at a hospital isn't always so smooth sailing.

That day you'd just been doing routine, checking up on patients and running files back to the cabinets, taking tests to the lab. You'd just had a breath, eating some incredibly stale pretzels from the vending machine when your pager had started to ping.

And in a blink, there was a rush of feet echoing down the hallway.

"Holy shit," you murmured, launching to your feet, and tossing your trash out with ease. The murmur of frantic beeping and tones you recognized launched you into action.

Just as you poked out of the room, a gurney made its way through the hallway, doctors you knew following closely behind. A familiar stain of red grabbed your eye in the flash that you saw.

"Dr. Madison, what-"

Without breaking a step, they continued rushing down the hall, the man in the gurney, surprisingly quiet.

"Gunshot wound left shoulder," he answered to you, but also just kind of stated, "We're headed to OR 3."

"Is there any family?" You spoke, tone concerned, eager to help how you could.

"Yes, yes. The waiting room, his partner," Dr. Madison, "-police partner."

"Fuck, he's an officer?"

Dr. Madison didn't answer, as the man started to become restless, blue eyes becoming fuzzy. As you found yourself following the gurney, you weren't needed in the OR, but you'd always had a talent for calming patients.

With a look to Dr. Madison, he gave you a nod, and you made your way to the front, "Sir?"

There was a lot of noise, the murmur of machines, the spinning of the gurney wheels, and the tones of the different doctors discussing the amount of blood he was losing but you still heard it.

"Rick," he spoke, in a breathy southern drawl, "-call me Rick."

"Rick," you smiled, a little relief he seemed to be able to communicate, "Hi, Rick, I'm nurse Y/N. Do you-"

There was a breath before his eyes flicked around himself, widening and looking back at you - bright blues, "Where's... Where's Carl and Lori?"

You gently placed a hand on his, to calm him, "Is that your family, Rick?"

"M-My wife, and kid. God, where's my kid?"

"Rick, listen," you spoke, drawing his attention with your hands trying to keep him from moving so much, "-I will find them for you, okay? Your family is safe."

"Promise me, you'll find them," he spoke, breathy, and his eyes cleared of their haze for a second. The blue was like a clear sky; you felt as if he was staring into your soul, and your breath hitched.

"Promise me."

With an exhale, you spoke of your own accord, "I promise."

He leaned back with a cough, but there was some relief there, you could see it. You fell behind the gurney's speed, and felt a shake in your breaths, watching as it disappeared behind an elevator door.

"I promise," you breathed out solidly, and tried to shake the burn of his gaze from your memory.

That was two weeks ago.

Rick Grimes had been in a coma immediately after his surgery, well, after being put to sleep, he never seemed to wake up. Dr. Madison had with ease put him under your care, a trust that was added onto your list, but you hadn't minded, not really.

You'd met Shane first, out in the waiting room, eyes frantic and his hair sticking up from where he seemed to tug on it -his eyes latching on yours. There were a few officers by him, both with hands on his shoulders and they stayed there, as you relayed what you were told to him.

'Is he gonna be okay?'

You told him what you could, doing updates from the OR as soon as you got them. Within a few minutes, more officers had come in tow with a woman -tall, and pretty with brunette hair- and a young boy -the same eyes you'd seen in his father's.

It stuck with you for a second. The pure blue holding onto every word you spoke.

They stuck with you, even more, the hour that they'd confirmed his comatose state, the tremble of the two's lips, and the tone the son spoke to you.

"You have to take care of him," he muttered, eyes shining and watery, "-you have to save him, please."

And with familiarity, you spoke -warm and calm, "I promise."

Despite your promise, you watched as the weeks passed -the light filtering out of their eyes. Rick stayed completely still, the hum of his breathing being the only sound echoing out of the room. Carl, who you had come to know well, stayed as long as he could -talking about any and everything with his dad. Lori sat by his side mostly, holding his hand and rubbing a thumb across the back of it. Shane started at a distance but began to hold her shoulders as they looked at his sleeping face.

And by the third week, the news started to implode, and you were often needed in other rooms. News of airborne sickness growing within the hospital, within dead people.

Visitors weren't allowed in. All staff was kept in.

Rick was still in a comatose state, and all you had were phone calls with the family but eventually, they stopped too. You'd call, but the line was cut -you assumed no one was home.

The reports had stopped even going through, rooms locked with reanimated faces pushing against the glass - some faces you knew and others you never would. Despite the air of the hospital being much different than it once was, you took your duties as seriously as you could.

Patient by patient and doctor by doctor, the hospital began to be infested - no longer locked rooms, but locked wards, operating rooms, and boarded windows. One of the last days you were there, was the day you found Dr. Madison. His face was deteriorating, skin drooping, and blood dried up, god when did he die?

With an exhale, you boarded up what you could and primarily focused on your last patient: Rick Grimes. The world was crumbling around you, but you couldn't leave him -after frantically searching his body for teeth marks, you didn't find any. He could still live.

"It's going to be hell when you wake up, Rick," you spoke, voice scratchy and unused -hair slick with sweat, "-real fucking hell."

When you decided to leave the hospital, it wasn't an easy decision. Not when your morals were so set when your job wasn't complete, but you knew you had to.

So, that day (god only knows the actual date) you started gathering what you could, medicine, bandages, probably expired vending machine snacks, water, and some sort of weapon.

Originally, in the early stages, the hospital simply treated it like a disease- quarantining the sick, and going in with hazmat suits. You watched one of your coworkers get torn to pieces by a simple human jaw.

Then it was locking them in rooms, and drafting cure ideas -along with some intel from a few top scientists, it never quite got too far.

You'd done it first, cornered in the room you'd taken to be your own by one you'd known -a patient that had been there for months, just waiting on a new organ. She'd wanted to be an artist.

You'd cried for 3 days after that, blood smeared all over your face and your hands. They shook for a week after, and sometimes, you still saw the stains on your hands -even though you'd scrubbed it all away as soon as you found an available space.

With all the preparations, you returned to Rick's room.

It was still the same room it had been all those weeks ago, except for the drawn curtains and distant growls that echoed through the hall no matter where you were. Wiping away your eyes, you set to work.

You couldn't be there, but you would be sure he could survive without you. Gathering extra resources and enforcing the windows, your eyes fell on the man. He looked the same, except for the scruff on his chin; and suddenly you remembered Lori kept shaving it -each week she came in and paid extra attention to his skin. Carl and Shane would step out, it always seemed so intimate as she shaved his face - holding it as gently as she could and sometimes she'd be crying. Tears silently falling with the smooth movement of her hands.

You had left during that time as well, only saw in glimpses the gentle touch and affection. If his family was out there... he'd want to be clean-shaven. You owed him that much.

With a breath, you rummaged around in your overnight bag you packed what felt so long ago. It was for when shifts got long, and this one certainly has gotten long.

Finding a razor was easy, and grabbing a lotion from one of the old offices was even easier -they all had been sitting and smelt a little off but you figured it was the best you could do.

And with a shallow breath, you took the razor and shaved the scruff off, a more familiar face appearing in your mind. The motion so intimate it filled a craving in you that you hadn't yet identified. A pleased feeling that somewhere out there, his family would recognize him.

With a bottle of water and a snack left by his bedside, you stepped out of the room and set to make a defense. You locked every room you could, and at the end of the hallway, you boarded up what you could -grateful for the graffiti warning those of what was ahead.

With a breath, you turned around to head out of the hospital, and the fear that crept up your throat was nothing compared to the itching to escape the vicinity. The stink of the dead overwhelmed your nose, and you weren't even sure it could ever get cleared out. Not after being surrounded so heavily by the smell of rotting flesh.

The blood from the corpses that found themselves in your way wasn't exactly helping.

You half wished you'd brought that horrid-smelling lotion, just for something different.

With a gust of breath, you found yourself out of the hospital with blood-drenched hands and eyes clouded in a fuzzy survival instinct.

Inhaling the air in tremendous gulps, you watched the stranded city -eyes solidly on anything that seemed out of place. Your senses had only tripled, but the sun gently shining on your skin had made your body warm with something familiar.

Something you'd missed. Hope.

With a calming exhale, you turned back to the hospital with the sun in the sky and smiled, "Good luck, Rick Grimes."

A/N: Posting this with a plan of a series, but I guess that depends on the vibes and if people like it! Reblogs and comments are appreciated :))

[cveasie]

My haikaveh headcanons:

- Haitham falls first, during the academia years, but he just kinda... accepts it? He's not the type to voice his feelings, he'd rather show them through his actions - even if they aren't clear enough for the other person to understand. He doesn't need Kaveh to know. He just needs Kaveh to... feel appreciated, in any way. For him, love is another language to master; not only for the sake of Kaveh, but also for his own. He cherishes the feeling and never denies it.

- Kaveh on the other hand, falls harder. I'd like to imagine that it happens some time after he'd moved in with Haitham. Somehow, through this sense of normalcy, domesticy, he starts to dig deeper into Haitham's actions. More importantly, gradually, he starts to notice: he starts to notice how his heart clenches in this burning feeling of appreciation, of belonging. It just feels right - Haitham feels right - they, together, feel right. And, oh, he loves him, and he has for some time now. His love for Haitham feels right as well.

- While Haitham knows Kaveh like the back of his own hand, he doesn't even consider that his feelings are mutual. Kaveh has always been focused on the academics, driven, passionate – romantic relationships didn't concern him during their academia days. While a romantic at heart, reality just often... fell flat, and Kaveh didn't mind it whatsoever. So, Alhaitham has never seen Kaveh crushing on someone. Of course, he notices the architect's sudden nervousness around him – Kaveh tends to bite his lips when anxious. Of course Haitham sees the way Kaveh starts to spend more time on his hair and make up. How could he not? How could he not, when his braids look more perfect than ever (though the scribe finds Kaveh's messy hair equally beautiful – the sign of his hard work, of his passion), when the jewelry matches the blouse perfectly, every day. Mere noticing however, doesn't equal with knowing. And Alhaitham hates the feeling of uncertainty, this weird, almost uncharacteristic anxiety for him. Something has changed. Why? What has caused Kaveh to feel such devotion, that even his dark circles have almost disappeared under a neat layer of concealer? So, he starts to pry. Subtly. He takes an extra minute to get ready, just so he can talk to Kaveh a little more, hoping for any kind of information. In the evenings, he starts to sit unusually close to the architect, watching him sketch – maybe its a new project? A new client? Why wouldn't Kaveh tell him? To his absolute misery however, the architect only seems to draw further and further away. He starts to stumble on his words, starts leaving for work earlier, as if embarrassed, as if he couldn't even look at Alhaitham. That's when it strikes Haitham – maybe he is the one making Kaveh uncomfortable?

- It starts with a question:

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Asks Haitham one day, during a seemingly peaceful evening. Kaveh's cheeks are dusty pink, and he's smiling to himself. With the question, his expression changes almost completey.

"Is my junior suddenly insecure? It's so unlike you to ask about such things..."

There is a hint of teasing in the architect's voice, but even that cannot hide a clear nervousness in his behavior. There is a sudden tension in the room, and Alhaitham also starts to feel anxious.

"Well... you've been acting strange, that's all. After observing you for quite a while, I've come to the conclusion that the problem must be in my presence – it's the only logical option".

Then, Kaveh's lips are on his. Things happen so quick, he doesn't even have time to respond, to kiss him back, when the architect is looking at him with teary eyes and a hand over his mouth. He looks terrified, ashamed, suddenly so small, despite his usual confident face. All of this takes Haitham a bit too long, because Kaveh is suddenly standing up.

"I'm... sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't think, I just acted, I..." he doesn't get to finish, when his hand is grabbed in a gentle grip, and he's lead to sit on the couch once again.

Then, they talk. For this whole time, Haitham doesn't let go of Kaveh's hand, looking at him with gentle eyes, full of disbelief. He doesn't even notice the tears on his own cheeks until Kaveh makes a snarky remark about it. After two hours of talking, he kisses Kaveh back. After few years of waiting, he kisses Kaveh back. And to Kaveh, this feels right.

[periwinkla]

AU where everything is the same but all animals are replaced by Pokémon. So Phoenix cross-examines a Chatot, defends a Wailord (I know Finizen would fit better but it's funnier) and Missile is a Growlithe that probably sets something on fire at some point, maybe Miles' jabot somehow, which probably leads to Gumshoe not being able to afford anything but noodles for a month or two. Pess is probably a Dachsbun? Miles' main partner would be a Gardevoir (little Miles with a Ralts would be adorable), possibly a Kingambit as well in adulthood? It would kinda fit him in a weird way (chess theme, literal steel samurai theme, general color scheme). Honestly there are many mons that could fit him but these are the main ones I thought about.

I can really see Trucy somehow having a Hoopa and screwing with everyone. Phoenix is a tad bit more difficult to pinpoint. Any mon I thought about is a flying type but he's afraid of heights and it wouldn't fit. The most interesting would probably be a shiny Decidueye because it would fit with his colors and the fact that it's not really a flying type. His hair too, kinda. Also can you imagine little Rowlet with his faux bowtie next to little Miles? Gosh. Phoenix would be like 'see, you're like twins!' would take a thousand photos. (and then when Miles moves away and Phoenix looks at Rowlet he's always reminded of his long-lost friend...cries) Maybe I'll sketch something about it sometime. Also Trucy somehow involving a Decidueye in her magic tricks would be hilarious tbh. A Decidueye with a top hat. Imagine. Athena would probably have a Rotom in her Widget and a Pawmot and/or a Medicham. Apollo would have a Scorbunny or a Whismur. Klavier obviously a Toxtricity. Maya a Munchlax because I like the idea of them both driving Phoenix penniless with burger orders. I want to draw some sketches about this sometime, although I'm still pretty unsure about Phoenix. Other mons I thought about were Appletun (since he likes apples and he's also a dragon type, but maybe it's way too goofy for him even), or even a Goodra (esp in his crybaby days, but also from a pokedex entry: 'It loathes solitude and is extremely clingy—it will fume and run riot if those dearest to it ever leave its side.' so kiiinda similar nature). Maybe a Wobbuffet for funzies because he's a punching bag that always bounces back somehow. Maybe I spent a bit too much thought on this. Oops.

[firefly--bright]

Reiner Braun modern headcanons!!!

a/n : the jean one I did did pretty well as a post, so I decided to do for my babygirl too (19 yr old war criminal) :)

warnings : none!

tagging : @mrsnobodynobody

✿ main masterlist is linked in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿ requests are open! ✿

• loves animals. TO DEATH like if he sees any stray puppies or kitties, he will rescue them immediately. he'll pull over just to get out of the car and save the babes

• piggybacking off of that, he's also a foster dad for these pets. like he'd take them in. he has two cats and they're kind of on the old side (because he felt bad just leaving them at the shelter), one of them has grey and white fur and he's named her McFlurry (yes) and the other one is actually a cat you and him adopted together - an orange tabby that the two of you named calcifer (from howls moving castle :) )

• used to play like all sports during his entire academic life. he's played so many sports at this point like you'd think you know a niche sport that you didn't think he'd know the name of? he's played it. even rugby.

• hates the way his nose looks, but starts loving it more after you develop a habit of tracing the contours of his nose with your thumb (it makes him sleep too)

• loves to cook! he'd make any experimental recipies that he found from an obscure source on Pinterest. it almost always turns out good but if it doesn't then he tweaks it up until it tastes good.

• like jean, he's kind of not really into physical touch at first, but the more you show it, the more he falls in love with your touch.

• extroverted introvert. feels the need to be nice and be friends with everyone (literally knows everyone you've ever bumped into) but he prefers to stay in and not talk instead. he's glad he gets to sit in silence with you because he feels fully comfortable with that.

• strangers to friends to lovers typa guy (I have a fanfic idea for this but I'm too lazy to write it), like he's seen you before and because he feels the need to know everyone's names and stuff, he decides to befriend you. he's not boisterous or cocky or overconfident, he's actually really nice and down to earth. you start getting closer, he starts working at the same place you work at, which brings you even closer and he falls in love

• and he falls HARD like. when you ask him if he can remember the one point in time where he realised he was in love with you, he doesn't have an answer, because with him, its kinda like... he fell for you in a collection of moments. like you brushed his hair away from his face and he's like "oh that's nice" and then you gave him a thoughtful gift for his birthday, again, he was like "oh that's...super nice" - just little moments like that made him Realize™

• has a complicated relationship with his mom but they're on okay terms now, like apart from the usual motherly criticisms, they're doing pretty well!

• blushes like a damn tomato. he cannot hide if he's flustered for the life of him.

• he tries to hide it, but he LOVES being pampered. he loves it when you massage his shoulders, he loves it when you put those under eye masks on him, loves it when you draw a bath for him, etc. like at first he feels,,, kind of like a burden when you do those things for him, but he slowly starts to think that maybe, just maybe, he deserves this.

• super patient. if you're having a bad day or something, not only does he immediately take notice, he'll wait for you. he'll ask if you want to talk about it or if you just want him to be there, and if you say you want space, he'll give it to you and wait for you to come to him when you need him.

• he knows how to braid hair because of Gabi. when he was 17, he'd braid gabi's hair into two pigtails whenever she came over to their house for the summer. (he's her favourite cousin and vice versa but both won't admit it to eachother)

• loves to knit!!!!! his ideal date is literally just cozying up on the couch with some blankets and hot chocolate or soup and just. knitting. if you like knitting or crocheting too then bonus points!

• speaking of knitting, he also wears chunky sweaters that his mom made for him. warm toned, chunky and soft sweaters are literally all his closet is made up of. except in the summers, he wears loose fitting tank tops in the summer heat.

• religious note-taker. if you share a class with him, expect him to furiously take notes at a godly speed every class. and it's not even a messy handwriting, it's actually recognisable letters that are pretty easy to understand. he'd give those notes to anyone who missed class that day.

• people rely on him alot, and at first in highschool he kind of felt pressured by it, but he's grown into that role. he's a gentle leader.

• speaks german. you'll find him speaking in German to Gabi and his mom whenever they call <3

• speaking of calls, he only picks up if it's a loved one calling him. Gabi sometimes calls him just to annoy him after her school day is over and she's just roaming around the house. at this point Reiner knows all the gossip in gabi's middle school, being super attentive when Gabi talks about her school. like he knows ALL the lore.

• loves watching those relaxing vlogs. like those cooking vlogs with nice music in the background and captions instead of voiceovers. he loves those.

• has prescription glasses only for reading <3

• overthinks so hard. like even if he goes out of his way to talk to and know people more, he hates the after-conversation anxiety that comes with it.

• when he kisses you, he kinda hugs you. like his hands aren't on your waist, they kinda wrap around your back and shoulder and his hands are spread out so that he feels more of your skin.

• loves calling you dove or angel, cause that's exactly what you are to him.

• talks with his hands, very expressive with his conversations. it's very easy to know when he's uncomfortable/doesn't like someone he's talking to when his hands are crossed over his chest.

• he writes. like journals all his feelings out. just like his note-taking, he's very on routine about it. every night, or every other night, he'd sit down at his desk and use the pen he's kept especially for this journal, and describe the day in detail. it helps him alot :)

• he kinda does this small little,,, soft exhale when he smiles. like his lips don't quirk up fully, but you know he's smiling because of that small sound.

• full bellied laughter kinda guy. you crack a terrible joke and he starts out letting a small tiny laugh at it and then it turns into a chuckle and then the next thing you know, he's clutching his stomach and wiping the tears from the corner of his eye because he's laughing so much. which is so ???? you tell him it wasn't even that funny but to him it very much Was.

• his reactions are SOOOO funny. like you're telling him a story and he'll have visible reactions to it. he'll cover his mouth with his hand if he gasps, put his hand on his chest in surprise, scrunches his nose in disgust - like he literally cannot hide his emotions.

• likes jazz and classical music. no I will not elaborate.

• can't Instagram. he uses emojis unironically. he has one (1) post and it's you and him together, eating ramen from the same bowl (a pic that bert took to send to porco)

• even if he doesn't use Instagram that often, he'll always check if you posted. if you've posted something then he will make it his personal priority to spam comment the heart eye emojis. your entire comment section is Reiner sending 🥰🥰🥰 and 😘😘😘 and 😍😍 and all the diff coloured hearts.

• loves taking pics of you against the sunlight or like. infront of a beautiful scenery. he likes taking goofy candid pictures too, but the ones where you're just being lit up by the sun are his favourite because finally, there's an actual accurate picture of how he sees you.

• overall, the Reiner I have in my head in a modern a.u. is incredibly soft and will dance with you in the living room in the dark with no music playing because that's how in love with you he is.

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

The Vees are Overlords but also a business, therefore they hold meeting and work with clients right and workers? Well what if a Business client or worker unknowingly said something about Retro!Reader in a meeting?

If its before Vox it come be commenting on Retro's cooking, as I see Retro would always ensure Vox had home made snacks for while hes working. Something like "That House Wife of yours is decent in the Kitchen, I see why you keep them there"

If its before Valentino I assume its after Retro brings him something between shoots, some fool would comment on Retro's looks or ask why Retro isn't one of Val's 'Stars' kinda a "Bod like that should be in those sheets"

Velvette would most likely be dealing with jealous models who don't know fully who Retro is but Retro gets to walk in, get the nice personal design treatment from Velvette and not have to talk the cat walk? Bitch fight would incoming.

Hope you don't mind my ramblings and if this sparks something Hooray!

He would destroy the person in question if it’s an insult^

Vox is always boasting about Retros cooking, how skilled and talented they are. He literally never shuts up about it. Now, the demon who said ‘I can see why you keep them there’ might have meant it as a sort of joke or some shit, but Vox would not be pleased. He does not take kindly to people who insult or degrade their partners (ironic, considering Valentino), so someone who’s making that sort of implication about his wife? Death.

He’d sort of chuckle and go ‘excuse me?’, daring the demon to repeat themselves. It’s over for them either way. If the demon backtracks, Vox will very pointedly dedicate the rest of the meeting to bragging about all of Retros other skills, too. He’d try to start by mentioning it off hand, but he’d get so invested in proving a point to the low life that insulted his wife that he’d get carried away. He’d go on and on about how creative and thoughtful Retro is, how nice they are to everyone, including those who work at the company. He would not-so-politely remind everyone that Retro knits sweaters for people at the company picnics, how they always cook at least half the food at the company get together and parties, stuff like that. It’s a stupid move to insult Vox’s wife, but insulting the person who everyone loves just because of how nice and kind they are? That’s ten times dumber.

Valentino would shoot a bitch on sight if they made a comment about Retro in bed. Yes it’s hell, insults and comments like that are to be expected, but he has standards when it comes to Retro. Val is so unbelievably protective of them when they come by the studio, it’s startling. He knows what Vox would do if anything happened, and Val doesn’t want to see Retro in any sort of compromising situation to begin with. He’d do his best to keep everyone in line.

He’d shoot glares and insults at anyone who looks at them the wrong way, anyone who looks at them for too long. Keep in mind, Val is in a wonderful mood whenever Retro visits him at work. They help him with scripting, and he’s always admiring them and gushing over them. He draws little hearts in the margins of his papers and sometimes lets them on set. He’s always nervous about it, but it works out nicely. They usually only help adjust someone’s clothes (with how few they’re wearing, it’s very important), the perspective of cameras, sometimes the hair or makeup (only a little). They know exactly what Val is looking for, and how to get the scene how he wants it. They’re calm and polite and everyone is just so relieved about it. Retro even does their best to make sure the actors are comfortable, the clothes aren’t too tight, the clasps work correctly, things like that. So yeah, if someone makes a comment about them, they’d be lucky to only receive extra hours of work as a punishment.

Velvette? Okay, if Retro was the type to confront people, Vel would record the entire thing. Unfortunately, Retro usually pretends they don’t hear a thing. They’d rather ignore it and keep up the nice and polite house wife routine. They’re probably busy admiring their lovers, anyway. So, instead, Velvette would shoot a model a glare and walk right up to them, demanding they tell her what makes them think they can say such a thing.

Retro gets treated special because Velvette respects them, thinks they’re awesome and adorable and can’t do anything wrong. Mostly. So, the fact that one of her models (people she sees as frequent fuck ups) would try to put themselves on Retros level? The fact that someone would even think they’re anywhere near as good as them, anywhere near as deserving of Velvettes attention and affection as Retro? A ridiculous notion. The model is lucky not to be torn apart by Val. Velvette would go off on the model, listing every single mistake they’ve made in the past hour alone.

The workers at Vee Tower learn not to fuck around when it comes to Retro pretty quick.