#i love the them and the more people i drag into my hell the better

[euniexenoblade]

Choose Your Own Smutty Halloween Adventure - Prologue

"Hiiii everyone! It's me, Mordred! Breaking the fourth wall to bring you an all new fun smutty adventure! Let me welcome you to The Fucking Game!"

Curtains, that you previously never noticed on your screen, rise up to reveal a game show set. On the left side of the set there sits five yellow, cushy seats. On the right side are shackles chained to the wall, the only part of the set where the yellow striped wallpaper is disturbed. Between the two is a small wall to prevent the sides from seeing each other.

"Now, I know what you're asking, 'Mordred, what is The Fucking Game, and why the fuck are you breaking the fourth wall?!' Well, my dear reader, it's very simple, it's like the The Dating Game, except it's fucking, and you're reading it. And, it needs a host, and who better than me?"

"Oh, and did I mention it's a Halloween special? So, ya know, monsters and shit."

"Shall we meet our lovely slut I mean, bachelorette?"

Two hooded figures pull a girl out by the ankles, she seems to have been knocked out, sliding across the floor as they drag her. The hooded figures take the shackles and close them on the girl's wrists before walking away.

"Allow me to introduce you to-" Mordred turns around. The girl is unconscious on the ground. Mordred turns back to the camera. "Hmm. Hold on one second folks." Mordred walks off screen, but can be heard somewhat, "Go wake her the fuck up I have smut to write you dumbfucks!"

Two hooded figures walk back on stage, one has a stun baton. The figure lightly taps the girl with it. The girl screams, jumping awake and puts her back on the wall, cowering. The hooded figures walk off screen.

Mordred now walks back on screen. "Now! Allow me to introduce you to Delilah!"

"Where am I?! What is going on?! I want to go home!"

Mordred looks disappointed. "FINE! I'LL DO THAT TOO!" Delilah is a 30 year old trans woman from California. She's a college dropout, has had only one relationship with a cis dude and it ended badly, and now she's looking for love in all the wrong places~"

"I am?"

"Yes. You are. Today, Delilah will find true love. Or die trying I suppose, I don't know, it's not up to me. I'm just a host."

"But now, let me introduce you to the people she's gonna fuck!"

"Fuck?"

Mordred groans. "Yes, fuck, it's The Fucking Game, keep up girlie."

"Anyways, our first contestant, hailing from the forests out east, Gerold the Werewolf."

A big wolf walks out onto the stage. He stands at about 9 feet tall on two legs, covered in fur, hunched a bit, his big teeth obvious despite his snout being closed. He sits in the first yellow chair and looks into the camera and speaks, "My name is Gerold, but I go by Gere, because there are hundreds of werewolves, but there's only one Gerewolf." Crowd laughter is heard. What crowd? Who knows. "I deserve to have this girl as a personal fuck toy, because I am loyal and devoted. Though I may have a thousand victims, I'll have only one fuck toy. You'll never worry about where I am or who I'm with, I'm a werewolf, not a WHEREwolf." More crowd laughter.

The camera pans back to Mordred. "Ha ha ha isn't he a hoot? Now here's our second contestant, Lilith, the Demon Queen from Hell."

The camera pans back to the chairs, a tall woman with red skin walks onto stage. She plops into the second yellow chair, she has a black bra and black panties on, black hair to her shoulders, and big horns sticking out of her head. As she speaks, you can see her razor sharp teeth, "Hi there, I'm Lilith, and I'm a bat outta Hell." Mordred can subtly be heard saying "I don't think she knows what that phrase means...." Lilith continues, "I like long walks on the lava beach, I love to fuck, and baby, I know hell, so I have the experience to make this relationship work." The mystery crowd claps.

Once again, the focus is on Mordred. "Isn't she just lovely? A true romantic if I've ever seen one. And, now, our third contestant, Priscilla the Ghost Girl."

Back to the stage, a blue-ish, translucent being floats over to the middle chair. She looks like a cartoon ghost, big black circles for eyes, a mouth that's a line and moves to a circle shape as she talks, "Hello everyone, I'm Priscilla, the ghost with the most! I don't go out often, since I'm stuck to the house I'm haunting. But, that said, I'm a homeowner, I read a lot, and I love to stay home and give you all the attention you need." The mystery crowd can be heard going 'awww.'

"Wait she's done already?" Mordred whines before noticing the camera is back on her. "Oh, hi there, isn't she just the best?! Now, let's move on to our fourth contestant, Slosha the Slime Princess!"

Camera pans back to the chairs, and a green, moist, almost slug shaped being moves across the floor, leaving a trail the whole way. Once she gets to the fourth chair, she morphs her body into a humanoid shape, big breasts, big belly, even fake slime hair. As she sits down into the chair you can see the chair get moist through her body. "Hiiiiiiiiiii! I'm Slosha! I am the Princess of the great slime empire! I lovvvvve to eat, so you know I'm gonna have so much fun digesting you! But I love to play with my foooood, so if you become my sex toy I'll never leave you alone! And, since I'm royalty, you have to do whatever I tell you to do or I will have you executed ^_^"

Mordred speaks to the camera, "Holy fuck, isn't she just beautiful? Actual royalty on our show? That's so cool. Anyways, thank you readers for being patient, we're almost done. One final contestant, possibly the charismatic of them all, allow me to introduce you tooooo: Pumpkin!"

Back to the stage. A pumpkin falls from the roof into the last chair. It has no other discernible features. It can not speak. It is just a pumpkin. The mystery crowd goes crazy with applause.

"Isn't Pumpkin just lovely, folks? Now for the the game to truly to begin. Delilah will now pick which contestant she wants alone time with. And by pick, I mean she gets whatever you tell her she gets."

"Wait, what? I don't want this-"

"Did I tell you to speak?" Mordred says in a stern tone. Delilah goes quiet.

"That's right! It's you" Mordred points at you, the person reading this, "who gets to choose who Delilah gets fucked by!" Delilah gulps. "Now, reader, it's up to you, begin the game."

[beevean]

Top 10 reason why Hecula is best ship, go!

Oh, but what a fortuitous coincidence :) I vaguely imply that I'd like more asks about Hecula, and lo and behold :) it's almost like you're in hell with me :)

I'm not sure I can rank them, but if you know me, you know which ones are the peak reasons I'm suffering from terminal brainrot <3

I am very weak for the narrative of a person trapped in an abusive relationship who manages to escape and learn that they deserve more. Fits Hector to a T :)

And yet Hector can't fully escape from Dracula. He's still cursed. He's forced to re-learn Devil Forging, the art taught by him from Dracula. He still lost much of his childhood and youth in Dracula's castle. He has to unlearn everything he has learned about being a weapon.

Hector is Dracula's specialest little boy and I love all the hints of how he was favored <3 because he was talented? Because he was cold and efficient like Dracula strives to be? Because he doesn't beg for love like Isaac does? Because he kinda looks like him? You decide. Point is, the mentor/protégé dynamic is very <3

But no, really, Dracula being possessive and overprotective of his precious Hector makes me swoon <3 it's both creepy and lowkey cute <3 he'd gouge the eyes of anyone who deludes themselves to be worthy of looking at Hector's splendor <3 only he can <3 because he deserves the best <3

I love to imagine that Dracula feels ownership towards Hector because he infused him with his own magic. Yes, same goes for Isaac, but... well, he's just not as good at using it :) Hector always makes Dracula proud <3 he's his very precious perfect weapon <3

Hector would care about his Lord. Dracula cherishes him like no one else does... like no one else would, because Hector only knew hatred before running to Dracula, and he welcomed him, and Hector is so grateful to his Lord and would obey him with pride <3 ... up to a certain point.

The symbolism of blood sucking meaning giving away your life, whether you want it or not. Hector threw his life away for Dracula because he needed it, or so he would feel. That's what my idea of Hector having bite scars all over his throat symbolizes. That, and a metaphorical collar he can't get rid of.

Dracula doesn't need any magical tricks to keep Hector on a leash, unlike someone else we know :) He knows his boy well enough to know what to say to him to keep him in line :) I like to think it as psychological warfare, Dracula expertly manipulating Hector, his feelings and what he craves to keep him nice and obedient vs. Hector's unbendable moral code and budding sense of pride (that I imagine that Dracula himself caused by spoiling him too much lol)

In short, I love that there is the potential for two "main" narratives. The one where Hector is groomed from youth to be as perfect and pliable as Dracula wants him to be, and while at first he naively trusts his Lord because he has zero world experience and just wants to be loved, he slowly but surely takes a stand and confirms his worth as a human being. Or the one where there are mutual, genuine feelings between the two - the relationship can never be truly healthy due to the massive power imbalance (which is a big 🥰 for me), but maybe, before Dracula went completely insane, there was a window of time where the two were fond of each other, Hector of his Lord who is always so kind to him, and treasures him, and gave him a reason to live, and Dracula of his strong knight who does his will and is so intelligent and devoted and whose valor may remind him of Leon.

Size difference :P Hector is very pickable in CoD, he gets picked up by normal enemies like the Red Ogre and the Harpies and also by Isaac (which is pretty chad ngl), but ofc, he looks especially small when Drac sips from him :)

I will spam my screenshots until people understand my Vision 😤

There was no need to do this, Drac. No need at all. You just missed you boy. Understandable, but really. yes this does things to my brain

and remember guys: Hecula canon <3

[divinesolas]

Fighting words

summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds

c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread

he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁

masterlist - requests are open!!

tags: @hxtd

“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.

“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.

“theyre arrows bracken.”

“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”

He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,

“she said no.”

The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”

“she said no. Back off.”

youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.

You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.

You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.

The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”

Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.

And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.

you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.

“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.

Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.

He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.

The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.

Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.

One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.

Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.

“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.

“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”

You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.

His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.

One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.

“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.

“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.

[sunrizef1]

imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: I guess I lied about the Lando thing… this songs just so Lando I can’t explain it and I’m actually obsessed with this song rn. You probably have to at least know the premise of the song to understand the second half of this.

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍New York, New York

liked by maxfewtrell taylorswift and 13,998,887 others

yourusername hello, New York!

tagged: taylorswift

Load comments…

user1 my fav

user2 love her

user3 so pretty 🤩

taylorswift 🩵

yourusername 🤭💋

user4 welcome to New York, so real

user5 I miss Lando

user6 hi queen!!!

user7 new music when

user8 “I love NY not you” lmao Lando get up

user9 now why in the world did max like this

user10 and now Lando will post an Instagram story of him partying with some random girl to prove he’s having more fun than y/n is, we know how this goes

user11 you can not tell me they don’t miss each other

sabrinacarpenter pretty 🤩 🤩 🤩

yourusername no u 💋

user12 I just need a video of her English ass trying to navigate new York please and thx

maxfewtrell hey bestie!

yourusername oh my god get out of here

user13 wtf is max doing 😭😭

gracieabrams I ❤️ u

yourusername 🥰

oscarpiastri hi

yourusername hi?

———————————————

landonorris added to their story

user14

Now wtf

user15

user10 was right

user16

Alright ig

oscarpiastri

oh okay

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

Still can't believe you convinced me to do that

yourusername

You'll be fine, ill get you concert tickets

can't even tell its you either

oscarpiastri

fine

they better be vip

yourusername

Dw they will be

—————-

maxfewtrell

???

yourusername

Dw its just Oscar

maxfewtrell

Jesus i cant believe you

yourusername

He started it. This is the first time I've included a guy in my posts, landos been doing it for months

maxfewtrell

you're gonna be the death of me

yourusername

💋💋💋💋

maxfewtrell

take care of yourself though y/n

yourusername

I am

Thx tho max 🫶

maxfewtrell

Yeah yeah 🙄

——————————————

yourusername

📍Paris, France

liked by charles_leclerc oscarpiastri and 21,008,771 others

yourusername I can tell when somebody still wants me

load comments…

user17 oh yay they're gonna sneak diss in their Insta captions again

user18 I miss dad ☹️

user19 she's so pretty omg

maxfewtrell oh wonderful we’re doing this now

yourusername leave

user20 lando its your turn

user21 IM IN LOVE WITH HER

charles_leclerc I'm amused

yourusername congrats

user22 they're so messy I love them

oscarpiastri great he's about to drag me into doing something stupid because of this

yourusername that is not my problem

user23 I sense new music coming along

user24 I do genuinely think he still wants her lowk

user25 they want eachother, don't lie. Its defo mutual

user26 😍😍😍

taylorswift 🤩

yourusername 🥰

jackantonoff 🤪

liker by yourusername

user27 why is jack here???? New music???

————————————————

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell martingarrix and 12,008,998 others

landonorris I have what I want

load comments…

user28 oh… yay

user29 🤩🤩🤩

user30 say what you want about their shitty personalities but they sure do know how to make an aesthetic post

user31 the shade is immense

maxfewtrell im nauseous

landonorris 👍

user32 they’re so into each other it’s actually insane

user33 OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU MISS EACHOTHER

user34 🤩🤩🤩

user35 he’s so fine

user35 LANDO-

user36 now what’s y/n gonna do

user37 how long until they both apologize and get back together… these are not the posts of people who have healthily moved on from their previous relationship

user38 fine as hell lowk

oscarpiastri this is 100% the most healthy way to handle this

landonorris I didn’t ask

user39 all of their friends are so annoyed and it’s so funny

———————————————

yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

Is this a song where you admit you’re still in love with Lando so you both can finally get over your emotional immaturity???

yourusername

kinda

maxfewtrell

Oh fr?

I thought you’d just be mean to him for the whole song

yourusername

Uhhh-

——————————————

yourusername

liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 21,000,111 others

yourusername imgonnagetyouback out now 🩶

Load comments…

user40 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

user41 oh my god it’s so good

user42 LANDO GET UP

user43 THE CAPTION FROM PARIS WAS A SONG LYRICCCCC

user44 oh so she’s still in love with him

user45 “you were never not mine” 💀

user46 I CAN FEEL IT COMING HUMMIN IN THE WAY YOU MOVE

user47 PUSH THE RESET BUTTON WERE BECOMING SOMETHING NEW

user48 SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY ILL SAY IVE GOT SOMEONE TOO

user49 EVEN IF ITS HANDCUFFED IM LEAVING HERE WITH YOU

user50 “I’m an Aston Martin” okay lance strollll

oscarpiastri “I’ve got someone too” no you do not 💀

yourusername oh my god shut up

user51 she’s still in love with him dhmu

maxfewtrell when I asked if this was going to be emotionally healthy and not a diss I can now see why you were conflicted…. Bit of both tbh

yourusername 🫶

maxfewtrell 👎

user52 told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same 😭

user53 SO GOOD

user54 WHETHER IM GONNA BE YOUR WIFE????

——————————————

landonorris added to their story

maxfewtrell

…

what does this achieve

landonorris

What do you want

maxfewtrell

Mate come on

you’re still obviously in love with her

and the song litteraly shows she’s still in love with you

all you’ve done is post a thirst trap of yourself with song lyrics on top

landonorris

It’s not a thirst trap

maxfewtrell

I hate both of you

text her mate

you’re happier together

And I’m tired of both of you annoying the shit out of me

landonorris

Fine

Maybe I will

maxfewtrell

Thank god

It’d be the first time you listened to me

—————————————

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

That better be Lando or so help me god

yourusername

Calm your tits

It is

maxfewtrell

YEAHHHH

Finally

I can stop playing matchmaker

yourusername

😒😒😒😒

————————————————

oscarpiastri

Oh so this means you’ll both stop dragging me into your dumb shit

yourusername

🖕🖕🖕🖕

oscarpiastri

🫶

———————————————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 13,001,881 others

landonorris told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same

load comments…

user55 YEAHHHHHHH

user56 Y/N LIKED WE’RE SO BACK

user57 my favs

user58 my parents are back together 😭

user59 unlike your real ones

user58 woah???

user59 🤷‍♀️ it’s the truth

user60 I missed them so much 😭😭😭

user61 admitted you love your ex-gf on main, this is self-improvement

yourusername pick your poison, babe

landonorris I’m poison either way

user62 I appreciate the repeating lyrics at each other because it is cute but those are not the kindest lyrics to be repeating 😭

user63 who knew that shit-talking your ex in a song could get him to re-admit his love for you

maxfewtrell took you long enough

landonorris legitimately who asked you

maxfewtrell I’m the reason this even happened in the first place. Watch your tone.

landonorris thanks i guess

maxfewtrell “I guess” @/yourusername this is how happy he is to have you back

yourusername landoooo

landonorris sorry. Thank you so much max, I’m so grateful you brought the loml back to me.

maxfewtrell you’re welcome ☺️

—————————————

yourusername

liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 20,887,991 others

yourusername got you back

load comments…

user64 she got him back 🥹

user65 YEAHHHHH LFG

user66 awwwww

user67 I love them so much

user68 sleeping on the highway tonight 🫶

oscarpiastri 🥳🥳🥳

liked by yourusername

user69 these pictures are so cute oh my god 😭

user70 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

landonorris you decided wether you’re gonna be my wife or smash up my bike yet?

yourusername still not sure… maybe both 🤔

user71 BOTH?????

user72 YEAH YEAH THATS FUNNY AND ALL BUT SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM

maxfewtrell congratulations nerds

yourusername thanks mate

user73 I’m in love with both of them

user74 they’re both so much happier together I really hope they stick this time

user75 and when she releases a love album then what

landonorris ily 🫶

yourusername ily2 🫶

user76 Jesus Christ they’re such teenagers 😭 USE FULL WORDS 😭😭😭

user77 no I get them. I wouldn’t post full love confessions in an Instagram comment section either lmao

user78 they got each other back 🫶

———————————————

Taglist: @casperlikej @evie-119

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[gor3sigil]

Trans drag performers deserve better.

Okay so since y'all seem interested, here we go.

[This is about MY experience as a “former” transmasc drag king, in my local scene. This isn't representative of the drag scene as a whole because drag is a wide, huge scene with pretty much any type of people in it. I have never done paid gig. I only performed a couple of times before deciding to stop.]

I discovered drag with RuPaul like a lot of people, and for a long time, I only knew about drag queens. It’s when I learned about an initiation to drag king happening in my town that I decided to try it. I did a bit of research before the event took place and that's how I learned that drag king is widely undocumented, compared to drag queen. A bit disheartening but I was excited to do something new and especially to get back in my local queer community after 2 years or so of “no contact” with it because trauma (see my post about my first T4T relationship to understand why).

First surprise when I got there, I was the only transmasc present as an attendee. The organiser and person who teached us is agender and go by he/him, and his at the time SO is a transmasc enby but appart from them, I was the only trans person. Most of the others were cis lesbian women. Makes sense. The initiation weekend went really well and we ended up performing in an open scene at the end. I can't count the amount of times I got misgendered by other kings during this weekend and I have to say, it pissed me off so fucking bad because I was the only one getting consistantly misgendered. But I brushed it off and had a blast.

My drag persona is more of a dragula king, really goth, and I did a lipsync performance on a Black Dresses song. I loved it and had a blast. A year or so later, we decided with other drag kings to do a little group to perform together.

Once again, I'm the only trans person.

And that's when the shitshow kinda happened. From all the drag kings present, I was also the only one who wasn't already part of a collective. So the group we had was composed of people from 2 collectives who would basically cheer each other out at every show, and it's great !! But I wasn't being integrated into the group, and I felt defeated. One of the main reasons why I didn't go to drag shows was because I was FLAT BROKE. I couldn't attend these events as they were always or in a bar so you have to at least buy a drink, or had a fee, and I couldn't afford that.

We started doing rehearsals and I set up a discord server for us all to use and organize the said rehearsals. It soon became apparent that they weren't really serious about this group, that they were more involved in their own collectives and it was HELL to have at least one rehearsal a month. But we had a show scheduled for september, and half of the kings weren't ready, didn't know their texts nor songs. I knew it was going to be bad. Also we were confirmed that the gig was going to actually happen 3 days only before, because the people who said they were going to do the visuals NEVER DID and we had to fumble something quick so the event was promoted very fucking late and we weren't sure we could even afford to do it, because not many tickets were sold.

During the rehearsals I got singled out for everything. My voice was dropping because of the T (I had started 8 months prior) and I tried to do my best with the singing parts but got told a few times that my low voice would sound “weird” amongst the sopranos. Also, one of the solo part a king was going to perform was on a very upbeat music and he said we could join IF WE WANTED.

I said I'd pass since it wasn't my style at all.

And when we got to the venue, the venue didn't have any backstage and I had my solo part just after that, so I couldn't just stand there on stage and do nothing. The others in my group KNEW IT as they had performed in this venue BEFORE but just told me “oh, too bad, improvise something” when they were the same ones who told me that taking part in the number was not mandatory.

Regarding the other artists, man, I hated everything. I got misgendered constantly IN KING LIKE - I'M A DRAG KING FFS. Even by others in my group.

When I corrected another performer, a cis gay dude, he laughed at my FACE and told me “but you're trans aren't you like, against gender or something ?”. As I was pre op and still early in my transition I was basically outing myself everytime I told my pronouns and I got so many cis performers ask me invasive questions about my sex life, or being like “yeah I have a trans friend who goes by X but I knew them as Y so it's Y to me but it's not in a disrespectful way you see”.

So yeah, I didn't have a great night. :)

The cis kings called me “girl” or “sis” because “I'm one of them” even after telling them time and time again that I wasn't comfortable with that.

And after this quite disastrous experience, the same ones who called me “girl” and me got into an argument because they wanted to change a song about forced toxic masculinity which is an INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL SONG into lyrics to talk about femininity. I said that we could use another song then, because there's so few cis men singers who sing about being forced into toxic masculinity and virility that I found that a bit disrespectful to take this important message and make it about women and femininity. There's plenty of songs about that that we could use.

And now guess what ? I was a MEAN MAN who wanted women to NOT TALK ABOUT THEIR ISSUES because I was a very MANLY DUDE DISGUSTING MALE.

The same people who couldn't gender me correctly and called me “sis” a WEEK BEFORE.

So yeah, I got the fuck out and gave up.

I really wish I can perform again one day, but it'll be in another scene.

So PSA: book drag kings, because they are so underrepresented it's disheartening, RESPECT trans drag performers, don't but bioessentialism in drag for the LOVE OF GOD IT'S DRAG. Like imagine being transphobic as a DRAG PERFORMER. Learn the history. And fucking do better.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x girlfriend fem!reader

Summary: You want to help your boyfriend with his prank but it goes horribly wrong (happy ending)

Prompt: angst - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done."

thank you for requesting @doting-dov3 🤍! this did indeed help with writers block ;)

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

James takes his pranks very seriously. 

You know this, his best friends know this, hell all of Hogwarts knows this. Usually, he keeps you separate from his pranks because he knows you aren't into them that much anyway, and that's never bothered you because him and the other Marauders have been doing their pranks longer than you've been dating him. 

But, around James's seventeenth birthday, you had wanted to join in on a prank. You wanted to show your loving boyfriend that you liked the silly, sometimes reckless, side of him as much as the charming maturity he'd grown into.

So, you wanted to surprise him and you asked Sirius if you could add your flair to his enchanted fireworks. Sirius had warned you that it wasn't a good idea and that you shouldn't do this, but you dismissed his worries.

Your idea was funny.  

However, when the charm you had enchanted into the fireworks, sent them into a frenzy that countered the original spell James had used and changed their direction from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor one, coincidentally landing over James and his friends, the pink powder you'd infused the fireworks with suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.   

The Marauders and a few other students jump from their seats and everyone in the Great Hall erupts into laughter. You stand as well, your eyes wide, proving your involvement in the mess.

You rush over as Sirius and Remus pat their robes and James shakes out his hair, his cheeks tainted almost as pink as the powder on his skin. 

"I told you not to touch that," Sirius hisses, glaring at you as he points at the fireworks, "Now look what you've done!" 

You flinch, feeling helpless as James's head turns to you, and his voice is strained when he asks, "You did this? You messed with the prank?" When you nod, he narrows his eyes and grabs your hand, practically dragging you out of the Great Hall and into one of the bathrooms. 

"James," you spin around, desperately pointing your wand at him to clean him up. 

Your boyfriend's eyes round and he snatches the wand from your hand. "Woah, haven't you done enough!?" he snaps, clearly furious as he turns to look in the mirror. He touches the now, weirdly gooey pink substance on his cheeks. "What the fuck is this, Y/n?"

"It turns into glue," you whisper, ashamed, "It wasn't for you, obviously! I enchanted the powder in the fireworks and it must have changed the trajectory. I didn't mean to mess up the direction, I promise. I just wanted to help!"

"Help!?" James grits, glaring at you, and then turns back to the mirror as he removes more glue and shakes it from his hands and into the sink. "You wanted to help? This isn't helping! You know almost better than anyone I don't like when people mess with my pranks and look what you did!" 

You hold in your tears. He's making you feel stupid but you refuse to cry because of this. "I was trying to do something good. To help you," you plead and walk to him, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, I promise."

"You humiliated me and my friends." James pulls his hand away and looks at you again. "In front of everyone." 

Your lip trembles. "I'm really sorry."

James pauses and he stares at himself in the mirror for a minute. Finally, he lets out a tense sigh and nods towards your wand. He'd put it on the edge of the sink and you move closer, taking it in your hand.

Your eyes are shiny with tears as you wave your wand in front of him and clean him up. James is silent and he feels better once he feels clean.

"You wanted to help?" he whispers, needing more of an explanation.

"Well, it was sort of an early birthday present because I wanted to show you I like your pranks a-and I support them most of the time," you add in a whisper, your cheeks feeling warmer, "so I wanted to surprise you and join in. I didn't know I was gonna mess everything up," you ramble as some tears escape from your eyes, your hands shaking. 

James's facial expression softens now and he holds his hands over yours so they don't shake. He feels like a prick now, realizing your intentions had been nothing but good and kind, just like you.

"Hey, I'm sorry I shouted at you," he says and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "It's okay. I understand you didn't mean any harm."

You nod and he leans in, kissing under your eye, halting your tear on its descent. "Dry those tears, dove, everything's all right. Next time, just ask. If you wanna join me in doing some pranks, all you have to do is ask, okay, my sweet girl?"

James nuzzles into your cheek and kisses under your other eye as he adds with a smile, "Didn't think you liked the pranks, my love. I thought you found them mean."

You sniffle. "Sometimes they are."

James laughs against your hair as he kisses the top of your head. "Adding pink goo to the fireworks doesn't count as mean then? How saintly of you," he teases. 

You scrunch your nose and look away, your cheeks all warm. "Um, no? It wasn't meant to be mean, it's just funny."

James grins and leans in to kiss your lips this time. "My baby can mean," he ignores your desperate attempts to convince him it hadn't been slightly messed up to want to pour some pink guck on a group of Slytherins, no matter how horrible they were themselves.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you how to prank properly," he whispers in a promise, "It takes time and practice and you have to plan it all out and—" James begins to ramble back to the Common Room and you can't help but smile at his hearing his explanations.  

James does take his pranks very seriously, but he also takes you seriously and if you want to help him with some pranks from now on, that's what you'll do.

tag: @mischievousmoony, @longlivedelusion, @sayitlikethecheese, @fangirl-swagg

[artytaeh]

honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

🧝🏻‍♀️ superniceempathtrustme13 Follow

The first signs of a narcissist is their bad energy. You’ll feel engulfed the second you step into the room. Their eyes will turn black and they will start using their satanic manipulation powers on you. Then, it’s very subtle, but they will sprout huge, curled, black devil horns from their head and will tear you to shreds, all in the span of a second, and then personally drag your body to hell. The only way to stop them is to literally kill them.

Follow for more tips on how to stay safe! 🤗

#positivity #empathy #empath #self care #self love #NARCS KILL YOURSELVES #abuse survivor #recovery #love #hope #happiness

1 bazillion notes

🌼 npdiscovery

hey guys can we please stop throwing people with personality disorders under the bus?

🧝🏻‍♀️ superniceempathtrustme13 Follow

This is a prime example on why narcissists will always be evil abusers. Here one is, right now, denying that I went through abuse and saying my trauma isn’t real. It’s messed up. We need to permanently kick out narcissists from public spaces, because stuff like this is NOT okay. Here is a link on how to trigger a narcissistic collapse for your next encounter. Just be warned, some narcissists are known to shoot lazers from their eyes when they’re angry.

#stay safe! #abuse surviver #narc abuse #ppl with npd are inherently evil #i would know i’m an empath so i’m better #i mean not evil #positivity #safety #self care #a better world #self love

26 notes

[freelancearsonist]

Won't You Suffer for the Angels to Fly?

➔ Joel Miller x fem!Reader - 2k

➔ Joel finds religion in the last place he expected to--a preacher's daughter.

➔ Rated MA for pure blasphemy. a lot of religious imagery and defiling of holy places--please read at your own risk. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink, HEFTY age gap (r is early 20s [unspecified], joel is 56), reader uses feminine pronouns and has female anatomy [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ this is for my mid to plus!sized readers :) you're beautiful and valid and i love you. this was written in basically one sitting after i binged mike flanagan's midnight mass in one night. thank you to my lovelies @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @shakespeareanwannabe for talking me through this <3 title is from "heaven only knows" by bob moses

The Bible teaches–at least according to what Joel was able to gleam from the Easter service–that everything happens for a reason. That every pelting raindrop in its descent from the sky, even before it lands heavy and dark in his hair or soaks the lush green landscape of Jackson, has a purpose.

He’s struggled a lot with purpose ever since hearing that existential crisis-inspiring sermon that Tommy had dragged him to. 

In the preacher’s defense, it went over well with everyone else. So many people are lost nowadays, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to have space for them. They need that hope, that reassurance that they’re here for a reason. That they’ve survived hell on earth not out of luck, but out of purpose. He pulled out the big gun that everyone needed to hear on one of the two days a year that everyone in Jackson has their ears open to him. It was tactful, and Joel has to acknowledge that. Your father is clever, if not cunning.

It’s a trait that you’ve learned directly from him, whether purposeful or not. But you sat right in the front row and nodded along to every word, accepting without thought or conflict that purpose is in every action, every reaction, every change of tide and every gust of wind.

And if everything has a purpose, your purpose must be to torture him.

You never have anything but a smile on your face for Joel. Joel, a man older than your own father, a man whose hands have broken every commandment that you hold so dear. A man that should know better than to let you get under his skin and infect his dreams.

He wonders what it would be like to hold someone so perfectly untainted in hands that have killed and destroyed and sinned. Hands that are strong, hands that are experienced, hands that are greedy. He’s certain he could teach you all about greed. He could make you beg, plead, sob for more and more and more until the only thought remaining in your pretty little head is how much you want to take from him. Until you become a glutton at the altar of his generosity.

And oh, how generous he could be once he had you begging. Minding your manners and asking nicely for what you need, of course, but he would never deny you anything you asked of him.

“Can I help you with that, Mr. Miller?” He hadn’t even noticed he was struggling–and he wouldn’t be, really, if he wasn’t so distracted. Putting new legs on a pew isn’t the issue after all; it’s the fact that you’re sitting there on the stairs that lead up to the altar and absentmindedly swinging your legs as if you’re taunting him. As if you understand that his resolve is slipping with every passing second he’s alone in this room with you. 

“Joel.”

“Hmm?” You shift your posture to lean closer, and that skirt that’s already way too short to be worn by the pastor’s daughter, in a house of God of all places, rides just a little further up your deliciously full thighs. 

How is he expected to work, to keep his mind on the job, when all he wants is to know what those thighs might feel like wrapped around his head?

He clears his throat and adjusts “You can call me Joel, sweetheart.”

He sees it, then. It’s so subtle, but it’s not imagined. You squirm at the pet name, at the raspy drawl of his voice, and it changes everything for him.

He sees in his mind the sweet girl, barely out of her teens, who sits in the front pew with a Bible in her lap. He sees the girl who sings so sweetly to the tune of every hymn. He sees the girl who’s so shy that she blushes every time she catches his gaze.

And then he sees everything underneath the act. He sees the girl who’s bold enough to wear a bright red dress to the Easter service. He sees the girl who makes eye contact with him across the dining hall every night to watch the way he reacts to her lips wrapped so tantalizingly smoothly around her spoon. He sees the girl who knew he would be alone in the chapel today–the girl who wore an easily accessible skirt just for the occasion.

You bookmark the page you’re on and set down the book you were reading, eyes fixated on him all the while. “Is there something I can help with, Joel?”

There certainly is, and it’s not the pew he’s supposed to be repairing.

He remembers, vaguely, hearing something about how God spares guilt from sinners when sin is necessary. It must be necessary to teach you a lesson, then–as you stride over and kneel beside him, your eyes heavy with anticipation and lashes fluttering, he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

“Hasn’t your daddy taught you not to dress like this?” He takes the hem of your skirt idly in his hand, rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He’s not touching you, not really, but his hand is so achingly close. An inch or two, and he’d feel your warmth–those plush thighs that God created to rule over Joel Miller’s mind, body, and soul; ‘til death does he finally know peace, amen.

You shake your head and even manage to seem smug as you say, “No. He just teaches everyone else to resist temptation.”

“I’ve never been much good at that,” he murmurs.

He thinks that you know that. He thinks that you’re his crucible, his most important moral trial–that maybe, if he can turn you away now, he’s a good man.

Joel Miller is not a good man. His kiss is crushing. It’s hellfire, it’s brimstone, it’s everything you’ve been taught to fear your entire life. You melt into it so prettily, accepting your damnation with parted lips and eager eyes. A wanton moan gets caught in your throat when his hand slips further up your skirt. 

No panties–in a place of worship, no less. He should bend you over his knee for this transgression, make sure you understand how filthy you are. But there’s hardly time for that now, not when he’s even more desperate than you are. And you are desperate–dripping down his fingers into the palm of his hand as your teeth leave perfect little indents in the plush skin of your bottom lip.

His free hand grips your chin firmly, guiding your eyes to his. He wants to see your depravity, the flickering embers of lust in your eyes as you come on his fingers and cry out for salvation from the all-consuming pleasure.

“Oh my God–”

His hand tightens around your jaw just the slightest bit in warning. “No, baby. You moan my name when I’m touchin’ you.”

And you do–thighs trembling, eyes watering, you cry out his name like a prayer as your cunt pulses and squeezes around his willing fingers.

There’s an unpracticed tremble to your hand as you reach to work open his belt, and it makes his cock throb under the confining material of his jeans.

You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours, so desperate for it that you’re nearly in tears when he pulls your fingers away from the buttons on his shirt. He’s not foolish–no one steps foot into this place during the week, but he knows better than to tempt God’s sense of humor. This has to be quick and contained, and you know it too; you picked your little skirt for exactly that reason.

He catches a glimpse of your glistening need as you settle over his thighs, and once again he battles to resist temptation. He whispers in your ear as you settle your chest against his and grind that fluttering, sensitive cunt along his length–promises himself more than you, really, that he’ll bury his face in your folds and drink from you next time. Next time–the promise makes you clench impossibly hard around nothing.

His eyes have never been quite as heavy as they are when you start to sink that dripping heat down his cock. Head tipped back, throat exposed, completely at your mercy. He has to force himself to look up at you–to worship the goddess enshrined on his altar, all his for the taking.

You bite into your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as your hips settle against his, completely overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his size. He’s a challenge, certainly, but one that you are determined to overcome. 

“Easy, baby girl,” he grumbles as you start to rock against him before you’re truly accommodated. His hands rest heavy on your hips–not anchoring, but encouraging. As wrong–as depraved–as this may be, he wants you to enjoy it without pain. “That’s right, nice and slow.”

It doesn’t stay that way, though; the desperation mounts to a boiling point until you’re bouncing fervently in his lap. It’s delicious, the way the thick head of him drags against something deep and sensitive within you. He guides you when your thighs start to burn, grip tightening enough to leave forbidden bruises in the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth presses to yours, breathing the oxygen straight from your lungs as he presses his hips up. There’s nothing you can do but take it, pliant in his hold, head rolling back to accommodate the wet drag of his mouth and the tickling scratch of his beard against your throat.

He feels it before you do–a subtle flutter as your cunt tries sucking him in even deeper. And maybe, if he was a good man, he’d lean away from it and have mercy on you. But he’s not a good man–he’s a greedy, wanton, desperate man. He angles his hips and thrusts as hard as he can, shoving you into your release with force.

You overflow with it; gushing over him like a flood, staining his hastily pushed down jeans and the floorboards beneath.

He pushes you onto your back like you’re weightless, adrenaline coursing as he starts to slam into you. It’s not polite or sweet or loving–he fucks into you and empties himself like an animal. He growls deep in his throat as his cock pulses within you, instructing you to “take it, baby girl” as if you’d consider anything less. 

You don’t know where your release ends and his begins. All you know is his weight on top of you, his mouth on your jaw, the collective breathless pants that fill the room as you both come down together.

You’re not sure how long it is before he pulls out of your warmth with an actual whine, breath heavy against your neck where his face is so comfortably nestled.

And you start to laugh, because you wish you’d worn panties after all–you don’t know how you’re going to get home with the mess of cum that’s dripping down the curve of your ass.

He even chuckles with you, until he tears his eyes away from your blissed face and sees the cross hanging heavy on the far wall.

“Th-that…” he gulps. “That can’t happen again.”

“It can,” you assure him, and he supposes you’re right.

You keep your head down and your eyes to yourself on Sunday, even as you spot the barely-noticeable stain on the hardwood floor next to the newly-repaired pew on the right side of the aisle. It’s so faint that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it, but it’s glaringly obvious to you. You should be ashamed; you should be begging for forgiveness. But then you meet Joel’s watchful eyes, and the shame washes away. How can you feel guilty over an act of worship?

THE END

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[falloffrost]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 29 || The Confessions

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE WORRY YOU EXPERIENCED WAS unnecessary though and the night goes entirely different than you expect it to. Who knew you'd have to be more worried about Gojo rather than the dress you wore...

The two of you were quick to part ways once you were inside, him taking a seat at a table decently far from the bar while you took your place there. Your back was to the man the entire night and he even wore these stupid glasses that made him look like one of the three blind mice.

You teased him about it for a while but he simply ignored you, claiming that he needed the eyewear to look inconspicuous.

So now you sat at the bar alone, glancing around for a specific blonde-haired male who was supposed to be there somewhere.

You waited and waited, ordering a drink or two while you were at it. Time flew by and as you waited, you'd look back to where Gojo was and send him a questioning look, silently asking where the hell Nanami was.

Gojo would shoot you a text saying he has no idea and you'd roll your eyes at him. A few minutes of waiting turned into thirty, then an hour, then two.

By that time, you were annoyed that of all the people you'd been watching the entire time, not one of them was Nanami Kento. Before you could send Gojo your millionth glare of the night, an arm was slung over your shoulder and his voice was in your ear.

"Don't cuss me out but..." Gojo murmured cautiously, "I just found out he actually comes here every other Friday night..."

Your eye twitches, "Tell me you're joking."

"I'm sorry sweets," Gojo says, chuckling a little as he pulls away from your ear.

You turn your head to face him with a glare, "I've been sitting here waiting for two whole hours because of you."

"I'm sorry, truly." He apologizes softly, "Lemme' make it up to you."

A brow is raised, "How?"

Gojo nods his head over to the dance floor, "With my amazing dancing skills," He offers enthusiastically, "That way your night won't be completely wasted!"

"No." You decline flatly.

The man pouts, "Oh c'monnnn, just one dance? I promise you'll feel better after."

With a heavy sigh, you move his arm off your shoulder and turn to slip out of your chair. For a moment, Gojo keeps pouting, assuming that you're rejecting him again before a hand goes to his tie and you drag him toward the dance floor.

He stumbles after you for a moment and then smiles happily when he realizes where you're taking him. The second your foot hits the dancefloor, an arm goes around your waist and you're spun around to meet Gojo's face before you even realize it.

He pulls you in close and he's got this gushing smile on his face even though you're still glaring at him. Gojo slides a hand to one of yours, forcing it up and around his neck and then following suit with your other hand.

"This isn't the kind of dancing I thought you meant," You tell him quietly.

There are a few other people dancing around the two of you, all of which appear to be couples.

"Gotta' fit in with everyone else, love," Gojo says, slowly swaying to the gentle music in the background just like those around you.

You sigh heavily, "This doesn't make up for anything."

"Then what will?" He asks, "I really didn't mean to waste your night like this."

You shrug in response to him.

There's this piano being played in the background and the whole dancing situation feels all too romantic.

You didn't like it at first but as Gojo continued to dance with you, easing your body closer and closer to his own, you slowly started to enjoy it-- even if only a little.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

At some point, both his arms are wrapped around your waist and yours are comfortably up around his neck. You keep trying to avoid his eyes but it was impossible with the way he just stared at you as you slow danced.

When you do look at him, you move a hand to take those ridiculous glasses off his face.

Gojo smiles when his eyes meet your own unobstructed, the sight of his happy expression melting your heart in indescribable ways. You take his glasses and tuck them down into one of his pockets before bringing your hand back up.

"Told' you they looked stupid," You try to explain your actions so you don't seem weird.

He hums, "I thought they looked pretty cool..."

You simply shake your head at him and return to focusing on your dancing, swaying gently as the piano has long since stopped playing, and now a radio of songs is what's guided people to dance. There were a few songs that made you want to stop dancing, especially when Choso popped into your mind at one point.

Gojo notices the distant look in your eyes and tilts his head at you, "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, "Nothing-"

"Don't lie to me, I can tell something's on your mind," He interrupts, moving to give you a slow twirl before pulling you back into his body, "What're you thinking about?"

You avoid looking him in the eyes, "Someone else."

"Oh wow, thinking of another guy while you're dancing with me?" He utters playfully, trying to lighten your mood.

You chuckle but his words hold the truth, "Yes, actually."

"Choso?" Gojo asks.

The way you're still avoiding his eyes tells him everything he needs to know. For a moment, he doesn't say anything and neither do you. You two just keep dancing as the song playing changes.

There's this mellow beat that flows into your ears, a song titled Old Love by yuji & putri dahlia. It's a beautiful song and it makes the moment of you slow dancing with Gojo all the more unnecessarily romantic.

You rest your head against the crook of his neck and Gojo lets out a sigh. There's no reason why you should even be dancing with this man still but you didn't exactly want to stop.

Gojo starts thinking back to the song that played a few minutes before the current, "Y'know, earlier... I was uh, I was thinking about you and him while that one song played," He says suddenly.

You grin, "What song?"

"Slow dancing in the dark," He explains, "I think the artist is named Joji... Ever heard of it before?"

You move away from his neck and meet his eyes, "I mean it just played not that long ago so, yeah."

He chuckles, "I mean before today, sweetheart."

"Uhh... Once before, yeah," You shrug a little. Then, you narrow your eyes at him, "Why'd that song make you think about me and Choso?"

"Well, did you hear the lyrics?" Gojo sighs.

"I did," You hum, "But I don't get how it relates to me and Choso..."

The man you're dancing with sighs heavily and his eyes dart off to the side, "Do you know what the song is about?"

"Uh, a failing relationship, I believe..." You murmur, not one hundred percent sure.

"Yeah," He agrees.

You raise a brow immediately, "Are you saying me and Choso are gonna fail?"

"No," Gojo chuckles, "The overall meaning of the song applies more to me and you, even though we're not in a relationship."

You blink and simply listen to his explanation.

"That one part where the song is all, you should be with him, I can't compete." Gojo quotes, "That uh... That made me think of you and Choso I guess."

"Is that how you feel?" The question that leaves your lips makes him tense up, his eyes carefully falling on yours once more.

Gojo gazes at you in thought for a long moment before saying, "Might' be a little cliche but, yeah."

"So you actually think like that?" You ask softly, "You wholeheartedly think I should be with Choso and not you?"

"Well..." He trails off.

His explanation fails to find his tongue, words floating around in his brain as he tries to come up with a good way to answer your question.

"Do I think you should be with him, yes." Gojo eventually gets out. "Would I rather you be with me, of course."

The look in your eyes softens, "This whole thing is hard for you, isn't it?"

His voice gets caught in his throat for just a second, "Wh-What?"

"I mean, having to know that once the list is over..." Your gaze drops down a little, "You're supposed to help me get with Choso. Doesn't... Doesn't that hurt you?"

Gojo feels his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he processes your question. Of course it hurts him, not that he wants to express that to you though.

"Nah," Gojo lies, chuckling loosely, "I'll be fine-"

"You're lying." You cut off, your voice gentle, "You can't tell me that helping the woman you love get with another man doesn't hurt you."

"So what if it does?" He shrugs, "S'long as you're happy, I'll be fine."

The air goes somber, the looks exchanged between the two of you filled with all different kinds of emotions.

"That's so toxic," You scoff, turning your head away.

"How? I'm putting my feelings aside for your happiness, what's wrong with that?" He questions.

"Everything," You try to emphasize the importance behind what he's doing as best as you can, "You're just gonna put aside your love for me so that I can be happy? That's terrible. You may be an asshole but... to a certain extent, you don't deserve that-"

"So what do I deserve then?" Gojo breathes out, his voice dipping down into something almost hurt, "Tell me my love, what is it you think I, as your blackmailer, deserve?"

You swallow down a heap of emotions, "A better situation," You say.

He tilts his head as he peers down at you. Even without your eyes on his, you can feel how emotional his gaze is, "And what better situation is there for me that doesn't involve you?"

The strings of your heart are once again being tugged on, this one more aggressive than the last. You can't help but shut your eyes for a moment and shake your head in disbelief.

"Maybe one where you're not blackmailing me," You whisper, still avoiding his eyes. "Perhaps then, and only then, would you have experienced the joy that is having your love reciprocated."

Gojo starts chuckling at your claims, almost as if it's untrue. "Sweetheart, there is no greater joy for me than loving you, even if it's not reciprocated."

You finally brought your gaze to his and it was as though time froze. Dislike courses through you at the way the moment became so intimate, so personal. The way your eyes flick back and forth between his left and right as you search for some sense of focus, trying to still the rapid thoughts in your mind, doesn't go unnoticed.

"That isn't joy, Satoru." You murmur to him, "That's misery."

"It's not," He argues.

"Loving someone so deeply and having it constantly ignored can't be joyful." You explain simply.

Gojo laughs, "You don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"How deep it goes."

"Tell me then," You request, your eyes never leaving his blue ones.

Gojo rests his forehead against yours, "Tell you how deep my love goes? Sweets, we'll be standing here all night-"

"I don't care," You tell him, "I'll never be able to wrap my head around why you love me if you don't explain it to me."

His lashes flutter into a slow blink, surprised to hear that you don't understand the way he feels for a second time that day. Has he not made it clear enough? Do his actions truly not speak louder than his words? He supposes they don't, seeing as his actions merely contradict those intimate claims of his.

"I love you for a lot of reasons," Gojo starts off, his voice completely open and vulnerable to you as he begins to express himself. "It wasn't a love at first sight kinda' thing or anything but I have felt this for a long time."

"Even before the list?" You ask.

"Mhm," Gojo hums, smiling a little as he recalls the moment, "I think I fell in love with your voice first."

"M-My voice?" You gasp, chuckling a little at how he'd fall for such a ridiculous thing.

"Yes, your voice." He continues, "I even remember the first thing you ever said to me."

"Hi?" You say, mocking your past self.

"No," Gojo goes to correct you, "It was actually 'let me know if you need anything'," He quotes.

Your brows furrow, "That was the first thing I ever said to you??"

"Yeah," Gojo chuckles a little, "You didn't say hi when we were introduced to each other, you just waved at me."

"Did I really?" Your eyes widen, "Oh my god that's so embarrassing..."

"It was cute." He snickers.

You visibly cringe, "No it wasn't, why the hell didn't I just say hi...?"

He shrugs, "You were shy."

"Did you say hi?"

"Nope."

For some reason, you feel like you couldn't even remember the day you met him. It was earlier that year, during the summer when you first moved in with Shoko but you don't remember the day exactly.

"Wait really?" You ask in suprise.

"Yep, Shoko just said 'Gojo this is my roomate, roomie, this is Gojo' and called it a day." Gojo recalls flawlessly, shrugging a little, "Then, you spoke to me for the first time later that day when you ran into me in the kitchen."

You raise a brow, "And you mean to tell me that's what you fell in love with?"

"Yes ma'am." Gojo says confidently, "Your voice made me feel all giggly inside."

"You're joking."

"I'm serious," He laughs, "Ask Suguru."

"He'll lie to take up for you."

"Not true..." Gojo pouts.

You shake your head at him, "Anyways, keep explaining why you love me because so far you've just explained how you experienced love at first sound."

Gojo laughs at your words, the sound oddly comforting. "That's exactly what it was too. Wish' I talked to you more back then."

"Think things would be different now?" You ask curiously.

"Mmmh... Maybe," Gojo shrugs. "But who knows."

He then goes to continue his explanation of why he loves you.

"Anyways, I really mean it when I say I love everything about you." Gojo proceeds, "The first time I heard you laugh I think I was on cloud nine."

"So you just love the sounds I make then?" You scoff, raising a brow in question.

"I mean I love your face too, you make the cutest expressions-- especially when you're all pouty about something." He rambles, a beautiful shade of happiness reflected within his features as he expresses his thoughts.

You smirk a bit, "Yeah?"

Gojo chuckles, "Oh and when you do that, god that's so fuckin' sexy."

There's this constant smile on your face for some reason, your brows furrowing at his words, "Me saying yeah?"

"Yes." He sighs, "Or like when you get this tone with me that makes me feel kinda' small? Not in a demeaning or belittling way but it's like you're talking to a lost puppy and I dunno," Gojo shrugs, "I just fall for it."

"When have I ever done that?"

"Literally any time you've asked me if I needed help with something."

"Oh..." You hum, recalling past times, "Well that's because you were acting like you couldn't find anything in my apartment..."

"I couldn't."

"Whatever."

"Your smile," Gojo points out, "I'd kill to see it on you forever."

You giggle, "Murder is a bit excessive, no?"

"Is it?" He questions casually.

"Yes, Satoru."

Gojo moves to twirl you around again in sync with whatever song's playing now, "I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you."

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..."

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly.

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?"

"You are."

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense."

"It won't." Gojo shrugs.

"You're so confusing," You point out to him with a sigh, "I'll never understand you."

"I don't seek understanding from you, love." He voices out in a soft tone.

You arch a curious brow, "Then what do you seek?"

"From you?" Gojo smiles, the sight making him appear peaceful, "Simply seeing you happy, that's all."

"Then, logically speaking, wouldn't dropping this stupid list make me happy?"

"You may think it'd make you happy but..." He trails off, losing himseld to his thoughts, "N-Nevermind-"

That was odd. How else are you supposed to view freedom from the list if not blissful? What is he not telling you?

"No, what is it?" You push further.

"Nothing."

A frown takes over your features, "You're lying."

"I can't tell you." Gojo results in saying.

"Why?"

"Because I just can't."

You hate how he doesn't explain himself, wishing that just for one moment he'd let you into the mess that is his brain. "Everyday you only confuse me more, you know that right?" You tell the man.

Gojo's eyes are gentle on yours, "In due time you'll find clarity when you think about me."

"Will I?" Your tone is soft, the moment of tranquility between you two never subsiding.

He glances away for only a second, "I hope so."

You think you can live with that so all you hum is a simple, "Okay..."

After which, you and Gojo continue your slow dance. It's all too romantic but you've still yet to grow the desire to stop. You guess he was right about this making up for the two hours you wasted.

"Can I ask you something now?" Gojo suddenly questions, his eyes now back on you.

"Sure." You reply, your fingers moving to play with the lowest strands of hair on the back of his head.

He finds himself relaxed under your touch but his mind and heart are so anxious, "Is there anything you love about me?"

You scoff obnoxiously, "Love? About you? That's a strong word, Satoru..."

His brain freezes for a moment. Gojo takes his time processing what you've just said before uttering, "You didn't say no."

"I..." You catch yourself stammering, unknowingly glancing down at his lips and losing yourself in thought before finally answering him, "N-No, there's nothing I-"

"What is it?" Gojo cuts off, seeing straight through you.

"There's nothing." A lie, there is one thing and you hate yourself for adoring it the way you do.

He scoffs, "There's something, I know it."

"There's not one thing I love about you, Satoru." Another lie, you can never get over the feeling of his lips on yours, "Like, maybe. But Love? I..." Your words fade for a moment, "I don't feel that emotion for you whatsoever-"

"Liar." Gojo cuts off yet again, he's persistent with getting it out of you.

"What would I possibly love about you?" You ask, playing dumb.

He shrugs, "I dunno, you tell me."

"I hate you," You say, tone void of ill emotion, "Did you forget?"

"I'll never forget that." Gojo responds, voice soft but passionate, "But you can hate me and still love one thing about me. Whether it's something I say or do, you're allowed to love something about me, there's no crime in it."

You get quiet for a long moment, simply staring up into his eyes. After which, you look off to the side. Love is such a strong emotion and you hate to feel such a thing for something that Gojo does.

"There's nothing." You result in saying yet again.

"Not even my looks?" He asks.

"Nope-"

Gojo grows frustrated with you and tips his head into the direction you're looking in, trying to get your eyes back on his, "So what is it?"

You sigh heavily, "It's noth-"

"You stuttered the first time I asked and I saw the way you looked at my lips," He points out, "What is it that you love about me?"

"Nothing, Satoru." You sigh, pleading for him to leave you alone already.

"Tell me."

"No."

"Please?" He begs.

You remain stern, "No."

He's got part of his answer, "So there really is something?"

You don't reply.

"I fucking knew it." That fuels him to a new degree and you feel his arms grow tighter around your waist, "What is it? Tell me please, I won't stop asking until you do."

"Keep asking then." You murmur.

"I will." Gojo says, having no plans on letting it go now, "Tell me. What is it that you love about me? What do I do that makes your heart race?"

That question can be so simply answered. His kisses-- it's the one thing that's always made your heartbeat pound against your chest to a new degree.

"What about me makes you go weak in the knees?" Gojo continues, his voice lowering into something desperate, "Tell me, sweetheart. Please."

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, "I'm not telling you."

You shouldn't be experiencing such an emotion anyways, it's wrong.

"What is it?" Gojo pleads, his voice so utterly desperate that it makes you feel weird.

You groan, "Nothi-"

"My touch?" He asks.

"What? No-"

Gojo keeps questioning you, "The way I look at you?"

"No."

"My voice?"

"No."

"My confessions?"

"No."

He sighs, "Then just tell me."

"No." You repeat.

"Please? I'll do anything," Gojo's voice almost breaks? It's nearly a whine the way he pleads you, almost like he can't go on without knowing what it is you love about him, "Just tell me what it is and I'll leave you alo-"

"The way you kiss me." You finally blurt out.

Silence.

It envelopes the two of you completely.

Your eyes are everywhere except his and he feels like he can't even breathe properly.

Did he hear you correctly? The way he what? Kisses you? You love that about him? Damn is his heart about to fall out his chest.

"Wh-What?" Gojo breathes out, his eyes are so wide, almost even teary. "T-The way I what?"

Your voice is barely audible, "The way you k-kiss me, Satoru..."

He blinks.

You repeated it and his entire body just felt warm. He's never experienced an emotion to this degree. What is this? Is this what it's like to have his feelings reciprocated? Even if only a little...

He's just staring at you, eyeing your flushed face, seeing how embarrassed you are, and feeling the slight nervous tremble in your body. Gojo was infatuated, taken over with thoughts and emotions of you.

He couldn't even breathe properly. His mind was running rampant, his heart was throbbing so violently in his chest, and he thought he was sweating. Chills ran up his spine as he replayed those words you just uttered.

And the emotions he experienced got no better when you carefully dragged your eyes up to his.

Time had stopped, nothing else in the world mattered except for you and Gojo physically couldn't help himself.

You watch the way his eyes go glossy and he pulls you impossibly closer to him, his face nearing yours. Was he on the verge of tears?

"I'll never do anything else then," Gojo whispers, his voice sounding almost distraught yet whole at the same time.

His head tilts to the side and your brows furrow, "Wha-"

It happens. His lips are on yours before you have another moment to process.

It was so sweet too, his lips impossibly softer than ever. You couldn't think straight anymore as his lips moved over yours, feeling your body melt into his arms.

The man's overwhelming love for you engulfed all of his senses and he nearly lost his mind-- his kissing growing eager as his tongue pushed into your mouth.

You gasp, "S-Satoru-"

He wouldn't even let you speak, beginning to walk you backwards and off the dance floor. You stumbled against his body, your lips slipping over his as he released a sweet little whine into your mouth.

Your hands slid down from around his neck and to his arms, trying to brace yourself for his sudden aggressiveness. You didn't fight with the kiss but you were definitely surprised when you heard a wolf-whistle from someone nearby, followed by your ass lifting onto a table slightly.

When did you get this far off the dancefloor?

Gojo's hands were all over you. They went from your back to your legs, sliding along your thighs and feeling you against his palms. All as you lost your breath within the heated kiss you shared with him.

You heard a chuckle, followed by a 'what a beautiful couple' comment from some older woman-- the sound making you move a hand to Gojo's chest to try and push him away for a second.

Instead of pushing him away, your hand simply flattened on his chest as he sucked on your lower lip and then slid his tongue right back into your mouth. Soft smacks could be heard coming from your lips and you hated how public the sight was.

"Sat-, hah... S-Satoru, please-," You uttered against his mouth, to which he simply groaned against you.

You should've never told him you loved his kisses.

The man moved his hands under your thighs and then he moved to wrap your legs around his waist, then lifted you up.

"I love you," Gojo breathes, just barely, into your mouth. It's almost a groan the way his voice leaves him, his mouth devouring your own eagerly.

Your heart is so heavy as you simply kiss him back, feeling your body being carried off somewhere else. Gojo was so passionate with the way he kissed you, almost as though he feared you'd slip away from his grasp at any given moment.

You don't know where he was carrying you to and you think you stopped caring at some point.

You truly did love kissing Gojo Satoru, despite the conflict that follows feeling such a dangerous emotion toward such a simple action. You loved it regardless.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[rashomonss]

MC and the brothers

context: cute little headcanons i have about MC and the demon brothers

a/n: also what?? rashomonss isn’t posting angst?? jk jk i promise I’m not up to anything so enjoy some fluff

my love for you transcends time

When you and the brothers are out and about on the street weather you all are going out to dinner, doing some shopping, or even just hanging out the brothers will all walk in a circle around you unconsciously.

The two leading the MC circle are both Lucifer and Mammon (since I believe they have longer strides than the others when they walk).

Behind them are Satan and Asmo who will always walk to the side of you, and then Levi will always walk at an angle behind you and them this works best for him since he can hide behind you and his brothers if he gets annoyed with other people.

Lastly in the back of the MC circle are the twins. Belphie doesn’t have that long of a stride so he’s a slow walker and Beel will always match whatever pace his twin walks unconsciously.

So they are always at the back because if anything they can just tap you to get your attention and you’ll slow down to walk with them. However the MC circle happens all the time when they are all with you.

It scares a few lower level demons at times because here are the seven rulers of hell all walking around and talking, but there you are in the middle, barely able to be seen over them but still laughing and talking with them.

If you’re out to eat for dinner you all have certain seats. The brothers of course have their own seating arrangements when they go out to eat, but when you came into the picture they all changed seats.

So without fail you all will always sit a certain way at restaurants and such. This can differ depending on their moods and the day.

You tend to carry around seven different types of things whenever you buy something. It could be a snack or a drink you picked up from the RAD cafeteria, but without fail there will always be seven different flavors of it in your hands.

Because once you buy something for one brother you think about the others and feel the need to get them something too, otherwise you’ll have to make a trip back with them to get what they wanted. So to save yourself the trouble you usually just get each of them something.

Each of them like to latch onto you whenever they walk you to whichever class you have at RAD. They will each find their own way to do that.

Lucifer prefers holding your hand, or at rare moments linking arms.

Mammon’s go to is intertwining your fingers as you drag him along to your next class.

Levi likes to latch onto you from behind when he attends in person.

Satan prefers when you hold onto his arm then hold his hand.

And Asmo definitely wants you all over him, except he’s always all over you.

Beel’s simple, holding hands is more than enough for him, honestly the fact that you’re alone with him just makes him happy.

Belphie can differ depending on the day. If he’s exceptionally tired then linking arms is your go to since you spend your time dragging him along, however if he’s not that tired then he prefers to lean on you and hold your hand as you walk.

Don’t mind the stares from the lower level demons, the brothers gaze is enough to scare them off.

You all have a set system for ordering at a restaurant. Lucifer goes first of course, thus giving everyone time to remember their order.

Then Mammon follows, after Mammon you’ll order, however if you don’t feel like ordering for yourself then Mammon will always order for you.

Next is Satan then Asmo, followed by Levi and Belphie.

Lastly is Beel since he always has the biggest order.

You usually end up feeling bad for the waiter because after Beel’s order they always seem confused.

You all have designated seats also on the couch during movie nights.

Of course you’re in the middle it’s better this way so the brothers don’t end up fighting over you.

Next to you on one side is usually Mammon or Lucifer, on your other side will be Asmo and Satan.

Levi and the twins prefer the floor since it’s less crowded. Levi will lay his head on one of your legs while Beel will rest his head on the other. Belphie will then lay across the two using them as pillows. They all like to cuddle in this position as well if it’s later into the night.

Each brother leaves something important of his in your room. This gives them a reason to go visit you in case they need it.

Of course Mammon leaves almost a spare of everything in your room since he sometimes treats it like his own.

Levi leaves a few games and manga in your room so he has something to do if he wants to destress in your room.

Beel of course leaves snacks, however when you did explain to him about not wanting crumbs all over your floor he got into the habit of leaving his favorite jacket in your room. Often times when he remembers to go get it he finds you wearing it and smiles soon deciding he can just pick it up later.

Asmo leaves his beauty products and makeup in your private bathroom. When asked why he doesn’t take it back to his room he gave you somelame excuse about not wanting to carry all of it back.

Satan likes to leave his unfinished books along with his favorite book marks just so he can tell you about them when he visits your room.

Belphie leaves his pillow in your room, specifically on your bed. It sometimes freaks you out when you walk into your room and just see a body in your bed. However after further examination you find it’s just Belphie passed out like usual.

Lucifer doesn’t leave anything in your room, he’s to tidy for that. Is what he wants to believe. He often leaves some of his favorite pens or some unfinished documents on your table in hopes of seeing you again. Of course he’s always welcome in your room but, you soon begin to worry though when piles of paperwork find themselves resting on your table.

You carry seven different keychains on your bag. Each of them gave you one in hopes you would show it off, and when you put in on your bag they were ecstatic.

Lucifer got you a cute mini album keychain with your favorite song on it. Like the show off he is the songs title was engraved into it.

Of course you have the matching keychain with Mammon you both got from the human realm, however he wanted to get you one that was just from him. So he got you both heart keychains. Together they form a heart but when taken apart they’re two separate pieces. He hopes you don’t think it’s too cheesy.

A ruri chan keychain would surely suffice for you, however you both already have a ton of matching ones, so Levi decided to take a different approach. He spent awhile on it but he made you your very own keychain of Henry! Upon closer inspection the little goldfish keychain was so well crafted it surprised you. He almost cried when you said you loved it.

Satan knew exactly which keychain to pick out for you. It was a cute black cat with little red horns and a tail. When he presented it to you he huffed a bit when you said it looked like him. Still he was glad you liked it.

Asmo went all out and made a beaded keychain for you. It was pink and had little sliver hearts at the bottom. Did it take him long? Yes. But did you need to know that? No. He’s just glad you thought it was beautiful, but you should know that he’s still prettier than his creation.

Beel’s keychain was simple, but rather cute when he gave it to you. He gave you a little hamburger keychain he saw at one of his favorite restaurants. The second he saw it he thought of you. Since his favorite food is hamburgers he hopes that it’ll remind you of him. But he also hopes that you don’t try to eat it like he almost did.

Belphie will give you a keychain of his favorite constellation in the Devildom. It’s a little smaller than the others but he took the time to find it and picked it out just for you. He hopes you’ll enjoy looking at it just as much as he does. And a part of him can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face when you recognize the constellation. 

Once all keychains are on your bag you do become rather loud due to all the keychains jingling.

The brothers all keep little notes from you. Whether they be notes passed in class or even sticky notes of encouragement you left in their rooms.

Each brothers has their own place they keep notes from you.

Lucifer keeps your notes in his office in a locked drawer. He would rather die than admit it but when he’s exhausted he likes looking at them for a little pick me up.

Mammon leaves them in a tiny box under his bed. Because when he finds himself thinking about you he rereads them and smiles.

Levi usually gets sticky notes from you so they all hang on his wall over his gaming monitors. At times he forgets they’re there so he always get nice little words of encouragement when he looks up.

Satan keeps them all over his room, he sometimes even uses them as bookmarks if he really needs to. It’s messy yes but if you asked him where each one was he could definitely tell you.

Asmo keeps all your cute sticky notes on the border of the mirror on his large vanity. It makes him happy to see your sweet notes to him with little hearts as he gets ready in the morning.

Beel leaves your notes on his nightstand. They pile up but never get dirty. He takes extra care to make sure he doesn’t get crumbs or grease on them when he eats in his room.

Belphie leaves them in the attic. Often times when he’s tired he likes to go there to sleep so he likes to be greeted with the sticky notes you gave him as they hang all over the walls. Sometimes they’re not just notes they’re also little doodles of the stars, you and him, his brothers, or anything. His favorite is your stick figure drawing of you, him, and Beel.

The brothers let you draw on them. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not, all the little doodles on their hands are something they find cute.

The only ones that have been called out for the doodles however have been Lucifer, Beel, and Mammon.

One afternoon while Lucifer was having tea with Diavolo in the council room he decided to take off his gloves. Due to the rare occasion Diavolo took a peek at his hand since something blue caught his eyes. After he pointed it out Lucifer immediately became embarrassed exclaiming that he didn’t draw on himself, you did. Diavolo finds his reaction quite funny and tells you about it later.

Beel was getting ready for fangol practice when one of his teammates brought up all the writing on his arm. He shrugged it off simply saying that you drew it. After practice though he was a bit disappointed his sweat made is disappear.

Lastly Mammon thew a hissy fit at his modeling gig because they wiped off all the ink you had drawn. Specifically the “i love you” you had written on his arm. They explained how it was better for the shoot without it on him which kinda pissed him off. However you found it cute when he told you so you drew on his arm again. 

A day will not go by without all seven of them being in your room together for at least an hour.

The first ones to stop in would be Mammon and Levi exclaiming that there was a new series that was becoming popular in the human realm that all of you should watch. With that being said Mammon mentions the fact you all need snacks so he leaves to go get some.

As Levi is setting up the series Mammon comes back with a mountain of food and drinks. However behind that mountain is Beel asking if this was enough for everyone. At your response of “that’s plenty” he then leaves to go get his twin.

As Mammon sorts through the food on you table and Levi continues to get the series ready you set up your bed waiting for the inevitable.

A minute or two later Satan walks in claiming he has to tell you something. But when he sees the other two he stops and decides to take a seat next to you on your bed. Mammon then yells at him for being to close to you.

At the sound of yelling Asmo bursts through the door screaming at the two of them to shut up. But once he registers what’s going on he runs in and sits on your other side. Causing Mammon to yell at him to.

You roll your eyes, laughing as they all argue. However they then start to get loud and Levi ends up getting hit with a pillow in the process. Upset at this now, he threatens to summon Lotan which somehow summons Lucifer instead, causing him to yell at Levi.

You tell Lucifer to then join you all and after some bribery he finally does.

So then Asmo moves next to Satan and Lucifer then sits next to you on your bed.

Mammon then sits next to Lucifer right as the twins walk in. Beel sits on the floor and surrounds himself with food while Belphie uses everyone as his own personal pillow.

Sighing Lucifer covers the youngest with his coat.

Finally finished Levi starts the show and sits next to Asmo.

You laugh quietly to yourself as your demons spend the next few hours in your room.

Honestly what would they do without you?

[targaryenluvs]

Idk if you are taking requests currently, but if you are…

Could you write a similar fic to our little dove, where Coriolanus doesn’t kill Lucy. I would’ve loved to see more of them arguing over who gets to spend time with the reader, and all three of them spending time together.

Or maybe a different ending where Lucy takes reader to pick up katniss with her. And whilst Coriolanus is in the cabin lucy convinces reader to run away with her… but Coriolanus finds both of them and takes them to the Capitol with him.

OUR LITTLE DOVE,, ALT ENDING

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

a/n: here’s for all who wanted a different ending! the full fic is here ( our little dove )this is just a detour for everyone who wasn’t happy with the ending! DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT READ THE FULL FIC!!!

the trek back to town had you dying. it usually didn’t take so long but with coriolanus’s arm practically glued to you, the sun beating down on your trio and your dress sticking to you? fainting seemed very fun right now.

the entire routine was rushed, food stashed, no goodbyes to your family nor friends, just lucy and coriolanus wanting you on the train asap. they’d sprung their plan of going back to the captiol on you quite abruptly once you reached town but at this point you had no hope in your body of escaping them. so you obliged and followed like a lost puppy.

being in the capitol was worse.

you were completely and utterly alone. coriolanus was busy running the country, lucy was always working and you always seemed to be stuck on your windowsill. staring out onto the streets as the world passed you by. stuck in a prison of marble and luxury.

at first you had to endure lucy and coriolanus’s never ending arguing, always over you. when you still had an inkling of freedom. “are you kidding me? you chose what she wore yesterday lucy. will you just back the fuck off?” lucy’s jaw was dropped open, “excuse me? she was my-” coriolanus’s head tilted back as he dragged his hands over his face, “oh my god how many times are you going to use that? who the hell got her here huh? who provides for all of us? sure as hell not you. now don’t make this any harder. she’s wearing the red dress.” you sat there the whole time, just waiting for someone to notice you.

it always led back to you. but apparently kidnapping you and uprooting your life wasn’t enough since after time the duo fed off of eachother, delusions enlarging. seemingly everyone was out to get you, be with you, but you were theirs. coriolanus wasn’t president long enough yet to go around killing people without raising suspicion and alert towards him and as much as people did respect him, he couldn’t exactly go around killing everyone who looked at you and lucy even if he wished to. so he settled for the next best thing. keeping you away from them, out of reach.

and here you ended up, alone.

you had everything you’d ever dreamed of yet it all meant nothing. you were a shell of your old self and the two of them knew it. but all they cared was that you were with them. whisperings of the president having two lovers were imminent, lucy gray the victor, and the other. the unknown. and you weren’t sure if they’d ever know you. if anyone knew who you were, what you looked like let alone your name. even the staff of your prison did what was necessary, nothing more nor less. food, water, changed bedsheets and drawn baths was all the interaction you had with people that weren’t corio nor lucy.

you wanted to die, anything was better than living the same day over and over. the little flickers of hope came in the form of broken promises whispered during the dark nights, barely heard over the heaving breaths originating from yourself and the other two. promises of people, of the sun and temporary escape from here. but you’d learnt not to believe them.

“sweetheart, it’s not good for you to sit there all day. come, eat.” coriolanus asked demanded from the doorway of your library. the book at your feet long forgotten. coriolanus led you to the dining room where lucy was already eating. “there you are baby. somethin’ wrong?” lucy’s eyebrows were creasing as she took you in, empty eyes, emotionless face, slumped shoulders. you were nothing like the girl from twelve.

y/n l/n. sweetheart to almost everyone. a smile on her face as she went about her day. opening up to people and allowing others to lean on her. making sure her friends were okay when she noticed the slightest shift in feelings. always the lover. the carer.

but the girl who stood in front of her was so different and it broke her heart.

but she knew if she wanted to repair you she’d have to let you go. and as the three of you cuddled together in bed, your soft breaths lulling coriolanus and herself to sleep, she knew it was worth it, as long as you were here.

how selfish! she thought, but at the end of the day.

you’re our little dove.

[writingrock]

soft spot

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: from the start, Bakugou never liked you. So what would that ever change?

notes: fluff, falling in love, bakugou trying to process emotions, he can't believe he likes you, he's trying so hard to deny it

word count: 3.1k

a/n: I wrote this during my four hour flight with 'soft spot' by keshi on replay.

From the moment Bakugou passed you at the UA entrance exams, he hated you. Not that he had a solid reason. A passing glimpse at your eyes and the snippet of your voice was enough to rub him the wrong way. Something about you grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. It was irrational, and he knew it, but that didn’t matter. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction when he saw you were lagging behind him, though he didn't pay much attention. Why would he? You were just some random extra who’d probably wash out before the practical even started.

But when he saw you sitting in 1-A, any sense of relief vanished. You’d made it? Seriously? Bakugou’s disbelief morphed into simmering irritation as he watched you walk in with a confidence that only fueled his annoyance. He was fuming. You were going to be here for the entirety of his education at UA? His jaw clenched at the mere sight of you. Whatever. You were just another obstacle, one he planned to ignore. He only had to focus on becoming the number one hero. No way some nobody was going to distract him from his goal.

Yet life had other ideas. You got close to Mina, which meant you were suddenly hanging around his friends. But it was bad enough that he had to acknowledge your existence at all, let alone exchange the occasional curt greeting. The nail in the coffin was one project. When Aizawa paired the two of you up for a project. It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Forced to work with you— a dumbass in his eyes— was the last thing he wanted.

And yet, as you both begrudgingly tackled the project, he realised you weren’t just some random annoyance. You were sharp, competent, and had a knack for getting things done without fuss. That revelation grated on him even more. It was only then, against his will, that he began to learn a bit more about you—bits and pieces that chipped away at his initial disdain, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it.

Bakugou tried giving you a hard time, tossing insults your way whenever the opportunity arose. But you deflected them naturally, either brushing them off or firing back with witty comebacks that only annoyed him more. Somehow, you always managed to steer the conversation back to neutral ground— back to assignments or studies— like his words didn’t even faze you. Okay so maybe, just maybe, you were pretty decent at handling his crap. But who was he kidding? You were still annoying. Did you think you could figure him out that easily? Not a chance. You were just another obstacle in his way, nothing more.

You’re quite nice aren’t you? He’s seen you around the classroom. Always being nice, offering a smile, and somehow getting along with almost everyone in class. Hell, even some students outside of 1-A seemed to like you. The only exception was Mineta, and honestly, Bakugou couldn’t blame you for that. Nobody could be expected to put up with that creep for long. That grape-head can’t quit being a pervert for one second. But what gives? What was the point of all that friendliness? Not that it mattered to him. Those were your problems, not his. You had to deal with those people and not him. And you better not think for a second that it meant you’d get close to him.

For most of the year, he kept his distance, pretending you were just another face in the crowd. A few begrudging greetings, a handful of exchanged insults—that was the extent of your interactions. You were just some random classmate, nothing he needed to waste his thoughts on. And as the school year dragged to a close, Bakugou found relief in the thought of summer break. At least for a little while, he wouldn’t have to see your face at all. Or anyone for that matter.

After the summer break, everyone returned for their second year, and Bakugou couldn’t help but notice that you had bulked up. You’d clearly been working out— your leaner arms and toned physique were proof of that. It seemed like someone finally decided to stop slacking and hit the gym. Good for you, he thought. But in his mind, you still had a long way to go. You were already behind, and you’d need to push yourself even harder if you wanted to keep up.

It started out by chance. You both happened to hit the gym at the same time, and after a while, simply ignoring each other became impractical. Slowly, you started exchanging advice. Small tips here and there. Eventually, the idea of sparring came up, almost as a challenge neither of you wanted to back down from. Before long, sparring became a regular thing, an unspoken arrangement that had developed between you two.

With you constantly hanging around his friends and the realisation that you weren’t as insufferable as he’d first thought, Bakugou had to admit that the two of you were... alright. It wasn’t a friendship exactly, but it wasn’t hostility either. Maybe you exchanged texts sometimes, usually coordinating meet-ups with others, but eventually, those plans shifted to just the two of you. It was never planned; it just happened. And honestly, you were tolerable.

Somewhere along the line, he let you hang out in his room while he worked on something, your quiet presence oddly comforting in the background. Not that it meant anything, of course. You were just decent company, that’s all. Nothing else.

But you were stupid. How could someone forget to eat? You were smart, sure, but you couldn’t even stick to a basic eating schedule? It was ridiculous. Hopeless. So maybe Bakugou started making extra when he cooked, just in case you hadn’t eaten. It didn’t mean anything. He was just making sure you were functioning like a normal human being. Afterall, you train with him. Begrudgingly, he might admit you’re one of his training partners. He needed you in top shape, not passing out— from all things, not eating— in the middle of a sparring match.

Over time, he’d learned more about you than he ever expected. Your favourite things, your hobbies, your weird habits. Hell, he even knew what you were scared of—and of course, he teased you about it every chance he got. You were used to that by now. But it hadn’t really hit him just how close the two of you had gotten until one night.

He was making dinner, he found himself setting out a second plate without even thinking. He automatically measured out your usual portion: a precise amount of rice with a heap of pickled radish on the side, and you always liked having the— wait. Bakugou paused. Ladle still in hand as he stared down at the plate. When had he started paying this much attention? Has he always paid this much attention to you? When had he gotten so used to accommodating your tastes? That night, he pushed your plate aside with a scowl and grumbled at you to make your own damned plate.

Bakugou would never admit that he liked having you around, but in his own way, he appreciated you. You were sweet in that irritatingly attentive way, always knowing how to handle him and when to leave him alone. You’d become a solid study partner, sharp and focused, and you had this annoying habit of anticipating his needs before he could ask. You’d pass him his towel and water bottle between sets because you knew he’d need both; the sweat never stopped, and he always drank after each break. You’d grab protein snacks for the two of you between workouts, keeping energy levels high without saying a word.

And then there were the little things. You’d go grocery shopping alone and always pick up an extra snack for him. Tossing it into his room unless he gave you the nod to come in. You’d share music you thought he’d like. And usually, you were right. Without trying, you’d quietly woven yourself into his routine, and he’d come to rely on it more than he cared to admit. But he’d never say that out loud— not now, not ever.

Just because the two of you had gotten closer and Bakugou tolerated your presence didn’t mean he stopped insulting you. But by now, you were used to it. If anything, you found it fun to fire back with your own jabs, turning every snarky comment into an opportunity for banter.

When you both went off for the hero exchange, he surprised you by texting more often than he usually did. Not that it was a lot by normal standards, but for Bakugou, it was a significant change. You’d update him on what you were up to, and he’d do the same— short, clipped messages, but they were steady, a constant thread throughout the entire exchange. It might not seem like much to anyone else, but coming from him, it was more than you’d ever expected. You never mentioned it, but you enjoyed those texts. And secretly, though he’d never admit it, he looked forward to yours too.

When third year rolled around, there was a quiet comfort in knowing you’d be alongside him for the final stretch. Upon seeing you on the first day back, Bakugou couldn’t help but ruffle your hair with a playful smirk, teasing you before you even had the chance to greet him properly. It was such a natural, casual gesture that it slipped out. That alone was enough for his friends to catch on.

Bakugou hated the way his friends kept teasing him, constantly poking at how different he acted when you were around. Supposedly you make him different or whatever bullshit they were spewing. Didn’t they have anything better to do than pester him about some nonexistent crush? He scoffed and waved off their comments, rolling his eyes at their baseless claims. There was no truth to any of it. They were just talking out of their asses. The two of you? You were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

But lately… have you always been this cute? Bakugou had always found you attractive, sure, but suddenly, it was like you were glowing, and he couldn’t seem to look away. It annoyed him, how his gaze kept drifting toward you. Snapping his attention back to his notes, his pen harshly hits the paper. Angrily scribbling with more force than necessary. He did not like you. No way. Why the hell would he? There wasn’t a chance. What was he even saying? You look normal. Normal, basic looking, cute— he said cute again didn’t he?

It was four in the morning, and sleep was nowhere in sight. He lay there, cursing you under his breath. Why were you stuck in his mind, looping around like a bad song he couldn’t turn off? You were just being an irritating stain on his heart— no, his mind. You weren’t in his heart. That would be ridiculous. Just his thoughts, that was all. And that made it better, right? But as he tossed and turned, frustration bubbling up inside him, he realised he was wrong. It wasn’t any better. A low groan escaped him, and all he wanted to do was yell. But it was four in the morning, and all he could think about was you.

Bakugou didn’t want to fall. Falling in love? He didn’t even believe in that crap. Love was just a distraction, something that could derail his path to becoming the number one hero. He didn’t need whatever this was stirring inside him. But no matter how hard he tried to shove it down, you always came back. Like a stubborn ember refusing to die out. And a small part of him— one he didn’t dare acknowledge— wanted to let you in. To see if you could change his heart. What terrified him was the thought that you actually could. That you’d be the one to make him believe in love.

Yeah, he’s grumpy in the morning. Everyone steers clear of him. When you approached, you’d feel that heavy aura, instinctively knowing to leave him be, letting him brood in his silent fury. No one knew why he was in such a foul mood, and no one dared to ask. Not like he’d ever tell anyone anyway.

He tried to keep his distance from you. Forcing himself to act normal, like you were just another person in his orbit. Trying to treat you like you were everyone else. But his efforts were futile at best. Around you, his guard would drop unconsciously. His shoulders would relax, and he’d lean in just a little closer, drawn to your presence without meaning to be. It was maddening how easily he softened around you, how your very presence seemed to melt his defences away. When he caught himself, he’d snap back, stiffening his posture and throwing out some half-hearted insult, trying to reclaim his usual grouchiness. But it never lasted long. Because no matter how much he tried to fight it, he always ended up sinking back into the comfort of being near you. He couldn’t help it.

His gaze lingers on you, often without him realising it. A stolen glance here, a lingering touch there. Anything to feel that brief, electric contact. Normally, Bakugou wasn’t one for physical closeness; he hated being touched. But with you, it was different. He couldn’t resist the urge to brush his fingertips against yours, the lightest touch of your skin sending a jolt through him. A graze of your shoulder, the faintest brush of your arm—he craved it more than he’d ever admit. He felt like a fool and he hated it.

You want him to go to some new outlet with you? He’d follow without much protest, even if he didn’t see the point. You’d offer him a bite of some food he was sure he hated, and somehow, it tasted different when you fed it to him. Better, even. When you wanted to stay up and watch movies, he begrudgingly kept you company. Even though he’d rather be sleeping to adhere to his strict sleep schedule, his eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop. Occasionally flickering his gaze to you, just to make sure you didn’t doze off first. And if you were on the verge of sleeping, he’d hit you. You were the one who wanted to watch this dumb movie and he’d be damned if you were going to fall asleep.

But finally, he’s changed his mind on you. These past few months, he’d finally convinced himself that he didn’t feel anything for you at all. Whatever had been pulling him toward you was gone. He’s sure of it. He didn’t like you—not even a little bit. In fact.

He hates you.

He hated the way you looked at him—the way your eyes lingered, the way your smile seemed to light up the room, the way your laugh echoed in his ears long after it faded. He hated how you fidgeted with your fingers, how you’d absentmindedly tap the table, or purse your lips in concentration while trying to remember where you left your stuff (which was, as always, on the floor between your bed and the bedside table). He hated the way you’d run your fingers through your hair to fluff it up, how you got lost in the pages of whatever book you were reading, or the way you hummed along to the music you were currently hooked on. And then there was your clumsiness—the way you always bumped into things on your left side, so much so that he instinctively started walking on that side, like he could shield you from your own absentmindedness.

He hated the way you spoke to him, the playful grin on your face when you said something witty, the mocking lilt in your voice whenever you got a good comeback. He hated the concern that crept into your tone when you noticed him pushing too hard, insisting that he rest properly. He hated the way you cared for him with a gentleness he didn’t think he deserved. He hated how you’d rise back up every time he knocked you down during sparring, your relentless spirit never wavering. The twinkle in your eyes when you talked about the future, the way you’d smile at him without a hint of hesitation—it all drove him insane. But most of all, he hated how easily he could see himself in that future with you, that creeping thought of being by your side no matter where you went. And he hated that he didn’t hate it at all.

He hated that he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

Maybe he’d always had a soft spot for you. Even if he never wanted to admit it, he couldn’t deny the truth he’d buried for so long: he’d fallen for you. You had him wrapped around your finger and he couldn’t stop himself. It was what you did to him that he hated the most. How you affected him. How you turned him into a lovesick fool. All because you existed beside him. He needed you because you’re everything he isn’t. He doesn't believe in love but no one makes him feel like you do.

In truth, he hated you from the start because you didn’t feel unfamiliar. When you meet new people, it usually takes time. Getting used to their mannerisms, their presence, the way they filled a room. So why were you so familiar? With you, there was no adjustment period. From that very first glance, your eyes were soft and inviting, your atmosphere light and effortless, as if you’d always been a part of his world. Even your scent, subtle and barely noticeable, felt familiar. Why were you so easy to get used to? You were so easy to get used to, and that terrified him. The moment you passed by him at the entrance exam, he’d felt it— a premonition of love he’d tried desperately to ignore. He knew from the start that falling for you was inevitable.

You knew it too didn’t you? That you’d end up falling for him as well. He never needed to confess because you already knew. You understood him well enough to know he’d never openly admit it. It only took one late night and a shared kiss for the two of you to finally embrace the love you both saw from the very beginning.

恋の予感 koi no yokan: (n.) lit. Premonition of love; the sense one can have upon meeting someone for the first time that the two of you are going to fall in love.

“You were never going to make the first move were you?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

It refers to the knowledge that future love is inevitable.

a/n: ugh I loved writing this on the plane. But I am very very tired now. For my wife @chocogoldie

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[xrjsoo]

I want payneland endgame in S2. Could there be some more development and slowburn to drag it out for a 3rd season? Absolutely. Is it too much to ask for a good queer show to just become fluff and cute and drop the slowburn for a few episodes, though? Honestly I get but really don't get people that want to suffer through a whole season of longing looks and gay guilt or smth like that, thats masochist af lemme tell yall😭

Do i want empowered Edwin discovering his sexuality? Fuck yes. Do i wish for some slowburn and self discovery on charles' part? Of damn course.

But PLEASE no more hell shit or confusionary angsty prompts, my heart can't take it.

Give us the trio going on a journey to get Niko back, the boys sort the shit out (let them have a real deep talk, for the love of god), Crystal finding her true self through the ghosts (LOL) of her past and will to be better, WITH NOT TOO MUCH ANGSTY SHIT THO