#its my house i get to be silly in this space i made to be silly in

[trainingdummyrabbit]

thinking more abt dummyrabbit angela, couldnt get this scenario out of my head

[volivolition]

Is the Wip game finished? Can I still ask for stuff? If I still can, can I get a snippet from the one that give me the most rot (meet the parts)? If no, then I'm just swinging by to say hi how are you doing? <3

HI RED!! thank you for swinging by, im doing better than earlier!! my ear is getting better and im eating pizza :]!

okay so TECHNICALLY it's no longer wednesday, but i LOVE spoiling my fics so of COURSE you can have a snippet from Meet the Parts hkjh <33 you are always free to ask anytime, i will always be happy to share bits of my stories <3 AND SINCE THERE'S NO RULES I CAN SHARE MORE THAN THREE LINES!! here's like, a whole React Speed thing i just wrote :]

LOGIC – Along with Coach and Sparks – Flighty and Fingers too, I suppose – they're why you have trouble sitting still for long periods of time. The attention deficiency disorder... Or are they exacerbated by it? I still haven't figured out which is the cause and which is the effect...

REACTION SPEED – Point is, we got zoomies! Can't sit still. Always more to do, more to see, more to say.

YOU – "Are you why my leg is always-"

REACTION SPEED – Bouncing, yep! Fingers tapping, hands flapping, feet moving, words flying- hey, if you had wings like me, we'd never be touching ground.

YOU – "You have wings?"

KIM KITSURAGI – He jots this down with an interested hum.

REACTION SPEED – Yes! Books, what- which animal–

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] – You have the hovering wing type of trochilidae – hummingbirds, colloquially – with their ability to rotate their wingspan at the shoulder and elbow joints to create maximum lift. However, though you exhibit some iridescent feathers associated with the birds, your wings also connect to membranes, which share the Voronoi tessellation of the species anisoptera, the common dragonfly.

REACTION SPEED - Yeah, exactly! I'm a hummingbird and a dragonfly. Both of 'em. :)

[sorcerous-caress]

I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

[eddiemuonson]

Biker Boy - !biker Eddie Munson

As requested by my girlie anonymous friend, who gave such a great idea, here it is!! I used the details as an excuse to make this short story spicy 🥹

Summary: You and Eddie are friends with benefits. Whenever he has the chance, he always gives you a ride and everytime you hear the engine and him revving, your body goes crazy. You have a kink he doesn't know, so maybe it's time to finally get the word out.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, cursing, fluffiness. +18 DNI

Word count: 2k.

His engine was revving in the distance as you heard the roar of his motorcycle approaching your neighborhood. As you're just finishing getting ready, the sound of his vehicle makes your heart do a flip, it's always automatic. The anticipation of watching him riding his machine always made its way in. You run to the front door as soon as he pulls over on your sidewalk.

You watch as he leans his bike to one side and dismounts gracefully, your stomach sinking from the view. Clad in his black leather jacket, Eddie was wearing ripped jeans - as always -, white sneakers and leather gloves. Oh, the leather gloves. They certainly did things to you.

You and your friend became closer over the past months, then you had the greatest idea of becoming friends with benefits. Something your friends didn't quite understand because you both decided you'd be exclusive to each other. Robin would always say it kinda gives away the term, because you wouldn't date other people.

The metalhead had his face hidden under the helmet, only showing the end of his hair and his big brown chocolate eyes. Everything just sends shivers down your spine. As soon as he got rid of the helmet, his hair flung revealing a mop of tousled curls. His dark green motorcycle had fat tires, decorated with a silly amount of stickers of every kind; bands, movies, games. 

He had a gin, although he wasn't the biggest fan of a party. He promised he would only go because it was Steve's, and because his friend got into college. 

"Hey sweet thing," he greeted you with a small kiss on your forehead. You gave him some space to get inside your house, leaving the helmet on the coffee table and taking his jacket off.

"It'll be a couple of minutes, just finishing my makeup". He only then noticed how pretty you were looking. You were wearing a tight black dress, brown boots and your hair was perfectly sat on a ponytail.

"You look too stunning to wear makeup," Eddie responded and you chuckled.

"Always such a gentleman". You took that opportunity to finally give him a proper kiss as he sat on the armrest of your couch. But then your eyes caught a glimpse of his hands still wearing the gloves.

Approaching him, you wrap your arms around his neck as he uses his right hand to tug on your waist while the other one goes to your face. The way the fabric sticks to your skin makes you immediately stiff your entire body and you've barely reached his lips, leaving only a few inches close to them.

When Eddie hears your light but recognizable moan, he looks at you lifting his eyebrows. You're almost making a fool of yourself but fuck that, you liked his hands in gloves. He didn't know that, because you never actually bothered telling him you had an actual kink. It's not like he never asked, he was always pretty curious to know your deepest secrets about your sex life.

"That was quick," he joked and you tried not to laugh at his taunting.

"Shut the fuck up". As you retorted him, you gave him a wet but already forwarded kiss, sliding your tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like cherry from the candy ball he usually eats after smoking. The tobacco smoke was lingering on his entire body, as well as his cheap perfume you love.

Eddie slid his hand down your body and gripped your hips before loosening his touch, threatening to remove his gloves. You desperately held his hands and shook your head. He tried to comprehend just what the hell you wanted.

"Keep the gloves," you begged. The man was barely existing and yet you were feeling like you were turning into jelly just at the thought of the leather touching your skin.

He smirked and raised his eyebrows, teasing you. "These? Huh". The way he reacted to it gave him an idea you haven't thought of yet, and still he was already light-years ahead of you. Eddie firmly grasped your waist and swung you, making you sit at the exact spot he was sitting.

He assaulted you with his feral tongue, liking yours and pulling your lower lip between his teeth. Boy, did he become another man after that. Using his left hand, Eddie started sliding it down your body, making sure to hold the curve under your breast, pressing his fingertips on your waist, reaching the hem of your dress.

The kiss became sloppy as soon as he slowly lifted it to your hip. Thank God you always chose a good lingerie. This time it was a thin, soft, lace pantie he was about to pull to the side. Before he did his main show, the curly haired metalhead squeezed your thigh and ripped a small mewl from your mouth against his.

His tone became husky and his cherry breath hit against your skin. "It's a shame I can't feel how wet you are right now. But I'm guessing you're soaking already". You whined by the feeling of his middle finger opening your folds, rubbing your wet skin with tenderness first. Eddie was always gentle, sometimes he rushed things, but you were headed to a party, so this one had to be fast.

Without warning, he made his way with his middle finger into you and you tightened your walls against his gloved digit. "Oh, fuck, Eddie". You cried out, your lips were parted. You were too busy to actually kiss him, but he was also focused on something else as well.

"Jesus, baby. You're so dirty," he breathed out against your ear. Eddie stuck his index finger to your cunt, along with the other, and the leather surely made it feel different from anything else.

His pace was calm, but the minute he felt you were used to the dressed fingers, he started to speed up, curling both, so they would hit your perfect spot. You're having a hard time breathing in and out, his thumb was rubbing against your swollen clit with so much desire.

Quickly, you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, facing his fat cock throbbing against his boxer. From your position, you could choose between just jerking him off or eating him whole.

You decided you would suck the life out of him. You started giving him wet kisses around his arousal, his tip, and his balls. It made him hiss, throwing his head back.

"Fuck, sweetie," he pleaded, working his fingers in a sweet, but fast motion. Eddie felt the back of your throat hit the tip and he almost stuttered, it was always hard for him to hold back his moans. He never actually lasted more than five minutes because you had the most fuckable mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, you could still whine with his cock in your mouth, giving him a full lick as well. Your living room was quiet and the only sounds that could be heard was from his finger pumping and your moaning, along with the sucking.

Eddie was focusing on rubbing your clit ever so slowly, while his fingers worked harder and faster inside you. He used his plump lips to keep them on the top of your head, while pulling a handful of your hair with his free hand.

You didn't have boundaries at this point. You were both so close and so intimate, you would even fuck on a balcony, if you had one. Alone in a room, you were free to use your hands and your mouth deliberately. Just like now.

Almost gagging on his length, you made sure to grip on his cock, hollowing your cheeks making enough pressure for him to gasp so loud, he almost fainted. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum," he cried.

You never left the smirk on your face because you knew how good you were with your mouth, and he was always reassuring you. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying to not break down from your blowjob, keeping his fingers curled hitting your spot. It didn't take longer for your walls to start clenching around him.

He gripped your clit with his thumb, rubbing it faster, sloppy movements as he started to feel his own pleasure hitting the roof. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth and you kept your pace, bobbing your head, until he released his juices down your throat.

Eddie loved seeing how you always swallowed him until the very last drop of it. He squinted his eyes closed, relishing every ounce of your saliva on his throbbing skin. "Fuck, you're so good," the metalhead whispered.

Not so much behind, you felt him pinching your clit while using only his middle finger inside you, watching as you bucked your hips, rocking them against his digits. "Ah, Munson". Using his last name as a resource to help you reach your own climax always worked and he knew that, he never complained.

As you throw your head back against the back of the couch, Eddie assaults your neck, nibbling on the skin, feeling your walls throb and clench around his gloved finger. "Yeah, cum for me baby girl". He always alternates his pet names towards you, so you would never know what would come next.

Your entire body squirmed around his fingers, your clit became too sensitive to the touch and your cunt closed tightly on his finger. You felt too weak on your knees and you were thankful for sitting on the couch, even though Eddie was still holding your neck.

You felt empty as soon as he removed his fingers from you and your stomach flipped. God, you felt so needy sometimes.

He zipped his pants back and pulled the belt. "You made such a mess on my glove, sweet thing".

"Good thing you have another one for us to use at the party". You respond as you fix your dress and walk to your bedroom.

You missed his reaction to your statement and he put on his glove back. It had your taste and your smell, he might as well use it as his accessory.

Ready and outside your house after a quick pornography, you stood at the side of his sleek vehicle, ensuring your safety before hopping on his bike. Next to his machine, he handed you the helmet, reaching out gently guiding you through the process.

Eddie always made sure to strap on it, so it wouldn't fall off your head during the ride, not too tight and not too loose either. "Thank you, handsome".

You swung your leg, hopping on the back of his bike, watching as the sky was casting a lavender hue over the quiet street of your neighborhood. You heard his revving and your heart jumps in, you loved it when he did that.

Just when he screeched the tires on the floor, you held your arms around his waist, placing both hands on his stomach. He loved driving too fast and he knew you hated it. Most of the time he would just speed up just a little to taunt you.

Approaching a red traffic light, Eddie slowed his vehicle, smoothly stopping as he supported both of you with one foot on the ground. As always, he turned his head slightly, resting his hands on your thighs, rubbing your knees with his gloved fingers.

You're thinking he didn't even bother to not wear the glove he used to fuck you, and you didn't know if you were actually more turned on or just feeling really repulsiveness. Either way, his endearment towards you always caught you off guard, he's too used to resting his hands on you at every fucking red light.

You smiled in return and just enjoyed his warm and steady touch, while you leaned your head against his back. As the light became green, he left his grip to hold the handlebars, speeding up the engine.

Eddie pulled up at Steve's house, the loud music was banging from a boombox inside his backyard. Before you both got inside, you reached for his wrist, gently squeezing his arm. He stopped by your side, brows furrowed.

"I'm not kidding about the glove, you better keep it clean", you pecked his lips quickly, before ringing the bell. You didn't expect him to be so close to you before responding.

"This time I'll use a special guest". You turned your head slightly, only to watch him licking his lips, teasing you. Eddie as a biker had you at his mercy, on your knees. 

[lighteyed]

it's no big surprise you turned out this way

steve harrington x fem mayfield!reader

[3.7k] steve comes over for family dinner. it is absolutely not your idea.

disclaimer- no mention of blood relation to max, no physical descriptors of reader, they are sisters in any way you want them to be. trigger warning for shitty parents and billy h*rgrove. this is not a billy safe space.

dividers by @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

thanks for reading if you do <3 enjoy teehee

You drop a kiss on Steve’s head in greeting, which he accepts with a thrilled, in-a-new-relationship, glowing smile, before dropping down beside him and subsequently dropping your news, or rather, your request that’s not really your request, on him. “Neil wants you to come over for dinner.” You tense at the utterance of your stepfather’s name, even if it’s your own mouth doing the uttering.

   His smile dissipates. Only a little, but enough for you to wring your hands together. You want to scoop all the words you’d just said back out from his ears and spoon them into your mouth again. Make him forget it’d ever happened. “Like, like family dinner?” He asks. He can’t fathom a world where he sits placid across the table from Billy Hargrove and passes him the salt respectably and doesn’t end the night with his fist colliding with his face (regardless of the outcome).

   “No, it’d just be you and him, he’s dying to take you out on a date,” you deadpan in response, shaking your head. Steve rolls his eyes, no malice intended. “Obviously family dinner, Steve. You, me, Max, my mom, Neil… Billy.” You force out the final name. He swears he hears your teeth grinding as you say it.

   “Don’t get grouchy on me.” He reaches over and smooths out the upset crease between your brows. Your shoulders relax in response. You’re always so wound up he’s made it his mission to give you that ease he knows you crave. He’s quite good at it, on days where he can steal you away and keep your mind occupied with the lovelier things in life. But there are some things he can’t spare you from, as much as he tries.

   Really, he can only keep you out of that house for so long before your family starts demanding their 17-year-old back.

   For the most part you keep away. Max roams the new mall all day with her friends now that June’s here and summer’s entered Hawkins in full swing, and you drive them there with your mom’s car if she doesn’t need it for the day, or Steve drives you all there and then home again if he’s not at work already that morning. If he has work you loiter in Scoops the entire day, lugging a stack of books acquired from the library and settling in a corner booth, popping your head up once in awhile to check on him and his misery in his new position in that ridiculous uniform. You brighten his days just as much as he brightens yours. And he really, really does. (And you like the uniform, as silly as it is, for the record).

   “’M not grumpy,” you deflate, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. He rubs your back in a nice, soothing way when you lean into him. Ever since he asked you out he’s been taking every excuse to touch you and you’re not complaining in the slightest. He has the softest hands you’ve ever held and they’re perpetually gentle and kind. All the love in the world encased in the hands of some boy from Hawkins, Indiana, a place you never expected to find a home in, let alone find a boy. The boy, if you thought about it long enough. Early days to be thinking about it but you did think about it. Often. For hours. You sigh quietly. “I can tell ‘em you’re busy, you don’t have to come.”  

   “Max knows I’m not busy,” he points out.

   “She doesn’t wanna be there, either. Look, I’ll just say you can’t come-“

   “But I can.”

    You lift back up, wary, but hopeful. A new flower poking its petals up from the earth, tilting right toward the sun.  “I don’t wanna make you miserable.”

   “That’s stupid,” he scoffs. He kisses your head this time, the perfumy scent of your shampoo fogging his brain up in a nice, lovey haze. “How could you make me miserable? You’re like, the best thing I’ve ever had, by a mile.”

   You smile in spite of your gloomy mood. “The fuckin’ Hargroves have an innate knack for misery.”

    “It’s a good thing you’re not a Hargrove then, hm, Mayfield?” He brushes your hair away from your face and  takes your chin in his hand, angling your face up properly to meet his, and he kisses you like he well and truly means it, firm and adoring. You can feel his grin seared into your mouth when you pull away, in spite of your reluctance and Steve’s attempts to pull you back in.

   . “You really wanna come? It won’t be fun. It’ll probably be shitty, actually.” You ask him in a tiny, hesitant voice, too overcompensating to someone who do anything you asked of him. Having Steve there sounds better than not having him there, and better than having to explain why he’s chosen not to come, but you know it’ll be weird. Worse than weird. After what happened back in November, him and Billy go out of their way to ignore one another, and it’s so deliberate it sucks the air out of a room. And even with that, Billy still makes it a point to direct snide remarks to you about Steve every chance he gets: alone, in front of Max, in front of your parents, in front of Steve himself while pretending he’s not there. And it’s gotten worse since you admitted to your mother in confidence that you and Steve were together now, and she told Neil, and Neil told Billy. But there’s no running from being at the same dinner table as him. You know you’re asking a lot. You wouldn’t be asking if Neil hadn’t insisted. In a loud, pointed voice, with a stare that unnerved you. You’d agreed to it hurriedly after that.

   “Well,” Steve leans back, playful, “want to is a bit of a stretch but I can make an exception for ya-“

   “Steve-“ you groan, pushing his chest, but he laughs, pushing himself back forward, smacking another loud kiss on your mouth.

   “Kidding, I’m kidding, c’mere,” his fingers grip your waist feather-light, tickling, as he laughs, and you can’t help but laugh too through your head shakes and faux-exasperated sighs.

  “I’m really asking you if you want to, I know it’s a lot asking you to make nice with Billy.” You interlace your fingers with his and he places them on your lap, all big brown eyes blinking up at you affectionately. You’re a sucker for his eyes. You can tell what he’s going to say before he says it.

   “Nothin’s too much for you,” he says in his sweet, low voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek, his stamp of agreeance left blazing there on your cheek.

   Late into the next day he arrives on 4819 Cherry Lane, as he has so many times before, but he parks right in front and gets out this time. He doesn’t sit by the wheel waiting for you to come running out, sometimes with Max in toe, usually by yourself, breathless and beaming, ready for him to whisk you away as fast as he can without breaking a million laws. He knows it’s not the gentlemanly thing to do, having a girl come to the car by herself instead of going up and ringing her bell, and normally he would, but you insisted he didn’t, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or him, and you were already waiting outside on the front steps when he got there most of the time, anyway.

   And this time, too, you get the door before he can ring the bell, almost ripping it off the hinges when you throw it open to greet him.

   “Thank God,” you mutter. You go to take his hand but remembers yours is sweaty and pull back. The sweater you’re wearing is pretty, complements your eyes and complexion and your everything, and your hair is down and soft-looking. He’d run his hands through it in other circumstances. “It’s not too late to make a break for it,” you lead him into the house quietly, throwing your head back and casting a dark look down the hallway. “Just say the words and we can flee, I won’t blame you.” He’s dressed so nicely, and you don’t even have the time to properly admire him. He did his hair all perfect (he always does but you can tell he put a little extra sparkle into it tonight), he’s in his nicest jeans that mold against his legs slim and fit, his sweater is a navy blue and it’s such a good color on him you might cry. You can see effort written in everything he does, tonight especially. His desire to make a good impression rings in your heart. You want to regard him warmly and turn your gaze on him with the utmost veneration but your skin buzzes with anxiety and it feels like one large, domineering fist is clamped around your intestines. 

   “It’ll be fine,” he says, squeezing your hand. He doesn’t even notice that it’s sweaty, though your anxiety is palpable and he amps up his happy exterior to balance you out. He’s probably just as nervous as you are, deep down. “Parents love me.” It’s an insistent sentence. “And I’m gonna turn on my charm.” He makes a clicking sound with his mouth and snaps his fingers around a little. You stare at him, blank. Neil is rumbling around somewhere in the distance and for the time being you are utterly immune to Steve’s banter.

   Not completely, but enough. “I don’t know if that’s the kinda charm we need here,” you pat his shoulder.

   “But it can’t hurt,” he points out with a raised eyebrow, pointing a finger gun at you.

   “Oh, it can hurt alright.” You steer him into the living room anyway. “Steve is here.”

   You announce it to the open air, waiting to see who comes when you call. Your mom, immediately, rushes out of the kitchen to greet him. She’s never met one of your boyfriends before. Her greeting is enthusiastic, to say the least. And she’s a hugger. It’s nice, actually, Steve thinks, no matter how embarrassed and nervous you are, to be embraced kindly by a mother. It’s familiar, like some distant dream from a faraway past. You have your qualms with Susan, he knows that, but he knows you love her hard, and that’s why you take so much issue with the way she lets herself be treated. It’s difficult to watch you grapple with all of this, all of the time.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Steve, or Steven? Whatever you want,” she rubs his back as she takes him into the kitchen alongside you.

   “Steve is great, thank you, Mrs. May-“ he clears his throat, “Mrs. Hargrove, I mean.“ It’s hard to reconcile this woman in front of him with the domineering men bearing that same last name. It’s hard to distinguish her as anything but another piece of you and Max. A good piece.

   “The girls talk about you all the time,” Susan says, still smiling.

   “I do not,” Max huffs as she comes out of her room, abashed. She’s in a nice outfit, too. Not as dressed down as she usually is. She tugs at her tied back hair like it hurts.

   “Ma, how tight did you do her hair?” You ask, beckoning Max over.

   “It pops out of every scrunchie!” Susan says, patting her on the head with such clear affection it makes Steve ache a little.

   “Maxie.” You open your arms for her. She stands in front of you obediently as you loosen the hold her hair ties have on her unruly locks, smoothing them out nicely as you tie it back up again, looser.

    Everything’s so nice and homey that the shift in the atmosphere is almost imperceptible when a door creaks open a bit away from you four. But it’s there. He sees you draw back into yourself, your smile, at him talking to your mom and being so sweet, at Max, at the normalcy of this moment, sliding right off your face as Neil walks into the room. You’d almost forgotten him. You could’ve stayed in a bubble with your mom and sister and beautiful boyfriend forever. But Neil comes out from the hallway, from Billy’s bedroom, and Billy follows behind, fully clothed for once, his shirt buttoned all the way up his chest, his expression dark and cloudy. His jaw is tight as his gaze fixes on Steve.

   But Steve, so gracious, sticks his hand out to shake Neil’s, smiling like Neil’s spawn isn’t the worst person Steve’s ever encountered as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you, sir. Steve Harrington.” He keeps his mouth upturned sweet and polite even when Billy snorts in the background. He doesn’t even look in his direction.

    “Nice to meet you, too, Steven.” Neil’s handshake is more like a clenched fist. You stare at their clasped hands like you want to commit murder. Steven.

   “Steve, not Steven,” you mutter. Max touches your arm in warning before Steve can. You can’t help it. If there’s anyone you’re defensive over besides her, it’s him.

   “Steven’s fine,” he chimes in, keeping that same old good-natured Steve smile on his face. He’s too appeasing and Neil has never deserved it. He rolls his shoulders back and talks to himself in his head. Just one night. For her, for her, for her.

  “It’s the name your parents gave you, of course it’s fine,” Neil claps him on the back, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it but you and Steve both flinch. From the words and the tap alike. Neil ignores your remark completely as he continues to talk to Steve in a way that makes your skin crawl. He brings Steve over to the dining room table and the rest of you follow suit, settling in around each other. You make sure you sit next to Steve, but you second-guess it when Billy takes the straight across from him. Neil drones on. “Y’know, it’s interesting how all this time, you’ve been driving the girls around for months now, but this is the first time we’re meeting.”

    Steve checks on you out of the corner of his eye. Your jaw ticks. He squeezes your knee but before he can answer, you do it for him. “He’s been busy, that’s all.”

Neil looks toward you. For once. It is not a pleasant look. “For months?” He tucks his hands under his chin.

   “I know you don’t like having strangers in the house after you work,” you say, placating in a way that turns your stomach.

   “That’s true,” Neil says. “Billy doesn’t seem to get the memo on that, so I’m glad someone in this house is paying attention.” The degradation of Billy at the dinner table is nothing new. And you feel bad about it. You’d feel worse if he wasn’t so nasty and hateful to everyone because of it. Neil had run into Billy’s latest flavor, Miranda Brady from your Calculus class, while she was rummaging through the fridge the other night, and he hadn’t been happy. He was polite to her until she’d been hurried out the door by Billy, and then he’d reamed into him in colorful, awful ways. Max and Susan both hadn’t been home, but it was one of those nights where you had been, and you’d lingered by your bedroom door awkwardly, making sure it didn’t get too out of hand. You weren’t sure either of them even knew you were there. Accepting the praise seems wrong. You nod stiffly.

  Billy, however, turns his gaze on Steve, the first acknowledgement he’s gotten in months. “Say, Harrington, you used to be quite the ladies’ man yourself, yeah?” A sick grin creeps up on his face. Steve sees your hand tighten around your fork. You’ve barely shoveled your pasta into your mouth. Max gapes at her stepbrother, her mouth still full of food.

   Steve clears his throat. “I had a steady girlfriend for about a year, actually. I’m sure you remember that.”

   “Yeah, but I mean,” Billy rocks his chair back. “That’s not what they were calling you King Steve for, is it?”

   You lurch forward. Steve drops his hand over your knee again. “I think it was because of the whole captain of the basketball team thing. Or the captain of the swim team thing, I can’t remember when it started. Youngest captain the Tigers had seen in a decade, actually, when I got it sophomore year.” Steve grins again and the cocky charm he possesses but hardly uses much anymore comes out to play, just for a bit. You settle down again. You eat what’s in front of you, calmly. You hear Max gulp down her own food across the table. It’s almost cartoonish.

  “Max, chew first,” Susan admonishes gently.

   “I am,” she retorts, but she’s inhaling everything in front of her.

    Billy  cuts in. “See, that’s interesting, I thought it was because you hooked up with a lot of girls. Like half the class.”

   Steve doesn’t even blink. He takes a sip of his water. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  “Are you trying to upset your sister?” Neil asks him with raised eyebrows.

  He goes quiet again, hardened. “No.”

  “It seems like you’re trying to.”

   His jaw ticks this time. “I’m not.”

   “Do you remember what I said to you? About a half hour ago?”

   His jaw ticks again. His eyes meet Steve’s over the table. Steve feels the merest twitch of embarrassment for him. He knows all too well what it’s like to have a dad who takes a weird sort of pleasure in berating his son. “Yes, I remember.”

   You stare down at your plate, pinching the skin of your palm.

   “If you remember so well, then you should stop talking.”

   Billy stops talking. Neil turns to Steve again. “So, captain of two athletic teams, that’s impressive. I’m sure your college plans are impressive as well.”

   Steve stutters in his answer and you hold your head aloft in your hands, suppressing a groan. Max finishes her food so fast, she’s excused from the table and gone within minutes of that conversation starting. You nearly fall out of your chair in your attempt to kick her shin under the table. She holds her hands up in her retreat while nobody’s looking, mouthing that she’s sorry at you and running away into your shared bedroom. You suppress a groan again.

   Outside, after another grueling hour of Neil dominating the conversation and making dinner unenjoyable for everyone, you walk Steve to his car, fiddling with your hands again. He props himself up against his window and wrestles you out of the knot you’re in.

  “That sucked, I’m sorry,” you say, knocking your foreheads together, your mouth drawn in a thin, perturbed line.

  “It was fine, you’re fine,” he whispers the last bit. That’s what you’re more worried about, after all. You’re worried he’s mad, planning to leave you for someone with a more normal family, people who are warmer, someone capable of being warmer. You’re plenty warm around him, but you suppose you could be better. You start running over all the things you could do better and all the ways he could do better in your head. “Stop thinkin’ so much. Everything’s okay.” He nudges your foot with his.

   “No, I know, it’s just, it’s awkward, it’s not fun, shitty way to spend your night, shitty way for anyone to spend a night.”

   “It’s okay. It was good. I was good, wasn’t I?” He kisses your palm where you’d pinched it earlier.

   “You were great, you’re always great.” You stroke his cheek, lingering on his lips for a second. “You look really nice, by the way.” You’d almost forgotten to tell him. “I like this color on you.” You smooth over and down his arms.

   “Yeah?” He grins, lopsided, tilting his head.

   “Looks good with your hair.” You reach up to tug on the strand that hangs down like an art form over his forehead. You’re the only one he lets play around about his hair.

   “You look beautiful, too, for the record.”

   “I was trying to make this about you.” You poke him.

   “I like when things are about you.” He pokes you back.

   “I hate when things are about me.”

   “Yeah, I’m trying to fix that.”

   You chuckle. “Good luck.”

   He gestures back to your house. “I’m makin’ progress here. I think I get you a little bit better now, after all that.”

  “And what exactly do you get?” You wrap your arms around his waist.

  “Why you’re always so tense and grumpy.” He cups your cheeks like he’s holding the most delicate thing ever to be held.

   “I’m not grumpy-“

   “Just tense, then.”

   You accept that, begrudgingly. “I’m pretty on edge most of the time, I guess.”

   “I try to talk you out of it,” he says softly, stroking your face.

   “You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

   “I try,” he says again, and you nod. “It’s not easy. Night after night.”

   “It’s not.” You bunch up his sweater.

   “I get it, you know? They’re not here as often as yours, but I get it.”

   “Dinner with yours next time?”  

   “Yeah fucking right.” He kisses you for it, though, because you mean it, you’d have dinner with them if he asked just like he did because you asked, a long and languid kiss that he hopes no one’s shifting around the curtains to be privy to. He withdraws first and says, “Your mom is sweet, I’d have dinner with her again.”

  “I’ll let you know when she’s free, take her out, show her a good time,” you tease.

    “If she’s anything like you I’m a goner,” he laments.

    “You’re a flirt, is what you are.”

     You kiss him again, beaming, heart swollen with affection.

    When you go back inside and Susan tells you how wonderful and handsome she thought Steve was, how good he seemed for you, that rush flows through you all over again. You even bring her in for a hug.

thank u for reading ur super hot n sexy n we're kissing rn

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Warm and Cozy

Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Summary: Nanami Kento did not show up at Shoko's Infirmary after a mission for his usual checkup so she sent you to his place to check up on him.

Warnings: Smut. 18+ I am not responsible for any underaged baby reading this. Wrap that willy before doing the silly.

Word Count: Your girl got horny.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Since when did you start doing house calls?"

"Since you stopped taking Shoko Senpai's calls and returned home instead."

Kento Nanami is still dressed in his blue shirt and tan blazer, holding the door with his hand and looking at you with zero emotions.

You can see the wretched dotted tie lying at the small dinner table behind him along with his glasses, not knowing why their site bothers you so much.

Nanami's free hand goes to his face to rub the incoming tiredness in his eyes. "Y/L/N, I'm fine. You should go back-"

"I've been threatened by senpai to heal you back to proper health or she'll fire me. So, if you don't mind, Nanami, I'd like to keep the job I finally love. Also, you are reeking of curses right now," you wring your nose in the end.

His brown eyes look at the resolution in your figure at his door before looking at the night sky behind you. He notices a moment in the corridor outside, his brows furrowing in some calculated thought.

The hand holding the door turns enough for Nanami to look at the time. And while he is contemplating something in his head, you cannot resist observing the six-foot-tall man; looking so different from what he was when you first met him.

He definitely worked out, your inner voice purrs inside your head, making you clench your office bag to resist any more stray thoughts.

"You are not going back alone at this time anyway," he murmured under his breath and stepped to the side.

"Oh!" you scoff, "I am pretty sure I can navigate my way around Tokyo at night just fine, sir. Or did you forget the time I-"

Nanami's senses are focused on the figure clad in a black hoodie coming from the other end of the corridor. The figure reached for something in the pocket of his hoodie and Nanami is quick to grab you by your arm- in the gentlest of way possible- and pull your surprised frame inside his humble abode.

You walk into the apartment and let your lungs inconspicuously breathe in the scent of Kento Nanami's safe space. And just as you expect, it smells of vanilla and beeswax.

Maybe it's the soap he uses?

The apartment is spotless. Everything has its place. Maybe the only thing out of place is you.

The entrance has you open to a cozy beige-clad living room. Walking a little further, you are standing in his open kitchen next to the kitchen island and looking at the table next to you where his tie and glasses lie.

Right opposite the kitchen is a space separated by a wooden structure made of hollow rectangular blocks housing plants, books on anatomy and humans, and a single empty space right in the middle.

The bed beyond that is covered in a grey duvet, astonishingly wrinkle-free.

Too clean, your nose wrinkles, it should have some-

Now what would make a bed that neat wrinkled and dirty, your inner voice whispers in your ear, spiking up your heartbeat.

"Would you like some tea?"

You jump at Nanami's voice, turning around towards the kitchen.

The man is already rolling his sleeves up and putting a kettle on.

"Yes, please," you plead softly, walking towards the kitchen island, and picking up his tie on the way.

"Did you meet the new kid yet?" you ask him as your hands and eyes get busy with the tie, wrapping it around your neck to try your hand at the few knots you learned in school.

Nanami opens up a drawer to take out two mugs- one purple and one grey- before turning towards the island.

There is this tiny second of a moment when he pauses to look at your fingers busy with the fabric that is practically a part of him. But he is quick to regain his usually stoic momentum even though his eyes keep going back to how carefully your fingers are running over his tie.

"Gojo's kid?"

You break into a chuckle, your eyes closing in the tiny flash of elation, never seeing how Nanami's eyes follow the moment of your head as it dips back and then tilts sideways.

"Well, you're not wrong in a way. His name is Yuuji. Yuuji Itadori. He's a really cute kid." You have finally made a passable knot and are trying to pass the other end through. "I was assigned to check him up yesterday and that boy made me laugh the entire time."

Nanami is just standing there with his arms folded when a whistle starts to form at the mouth of the kettle.

"And he is so pure, Nanami! He let me explain to him the culture samples in Senpai's lab and he looked at every single one of them with the same excitement as he did the first one."

The whistle goes harder on that kettle.

A fresh pack of Hojicha tea is opened. Nanami's rugged hands are careful with the bits they pick up to sprinkle in the earthen pot waiting for the brew time before the boiling water goes in.

"Oh, I love him! He's so precious." you declare in excitement.

You do not notice when Nanami comes to stand in front of you. You notice his hands first; when they come to take over the tie from your hands.

"I haven't washed it yet. It might still have some curse blood on it," Nanami slowly announces before delicately pulling the tie up your head.

"Oh...right. My bad."

Moving the tie away from your head, his hand unconsciously comes back to undo the mess he made in your hair, making you pause a breath.

Stop, you tell your insides, trying to shake away the gentle gestures as something more.

.

Your tools are neatly arranged on the dinner table. Nanami sits on a chair.

"See? Nothing to worry about," he declares in his usual nonchalant way as you are done examining his head and arms.

"Not so fast, love. I still have to scrutinise the rest of you," you warn him sweetly while you rub your palms together and walk behind the chair.

Nanami's head tilts a little in your direction.

"Okay....love."

Your hands freeze behind him. The word vibrates inside you with his voice.

Oh fu---haaa----Focus!

"I need to run the energy down your spine." You try your best to sound composed.

He undoes the first two buttons on his shirt and lifts away the collar, exposing his neck and shoulders to you.

"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable at any point," you announce softly before gently putting your hands on the back of his neck to observe for any anomalies.

What you don't get to see is the rugged hands of the Grade 1 sorcerer curling up into a fist at the first touch of your fingers on his exposed skin, or the goosebumps on his arms and back as your fingers do a little stroke at the nape to guide the energy down his spine.

"Oh, this is not good," you state, stepping away from him to look for something inside your bag.

"What?" Nanami almost blurts out, not really sure what the question was for- the 'not good' part or your hands- that seemed to bring him some much-needed relief- not touching him anymore.

Taking out a small maroon spherical crystal from your bag, you look Nanami straight in the eyes. "Take off your clothes. We're getting in the shower."

.

The shower head is fixed back into place by your fingers. "There," you exhale and come down from the stool to give one final look of satisfaction at your work.

Nanami is standing at his bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe, observing you. You are out of your overcoat, exposing your usual colourful self in a sweater, a skirt and skinny tights. This is the first time he has seen you wear a sweater in blue. It suits you, he thinks to himself, though it irks him to imagine if it ran up your waist like it is doing now- when you are adjusting the angle of the shower- when you travelled all the way from Jujutsu High to his place and if anyone else dared to see you like this.

"I've fixed the disinfectant in your shower head. Now just stand under the running water for about a minute or so and I'll take out the curse sample."

Nanami looks at the shower head and then at you. "How lethal is the infection?"

"Oh," you shake your head, "not lethal if we do this right now. Lethal if you let it sit overnight. I am going to take the sample back to Shoko Senpai for culture study and antidotes. It'll wash away in no time, don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried for me," he mumbles.

"Hm?" you furrow your brows in confusion, which melts away at the speed of light when the man unbuttons his shirt, taking it off and neatly stacking it in the laundry basket next to the sink.

It takes you some time to let the beauty of Kento Nanami's body seep into your mind. It also takes one long inhale to realise that Blazer had been hiding a sculpted Renaissance art underneath it.

But your brain goes to hell when he takes off his trousers and stands there in his black boxers, revealing some incredibly toned legs.

Oh, mother of curses!

Embarrassed for looking at him with budding sinful thoughts, you turn around in the shower temple to smack your head into the towel rack.

Cursing under your breath, you walk out of the tiny space with your gaze on the ground. "The infection is on your left shoulder blade...o-on the back."

"How bad is it?" Nanami tries to take a look at it in the wall-length mirror on the sink.

"I've handled worse. It's okay, you can trust me, Nanami." you shrug at his reflection in the mirror with a smile.

"I do, Y/L/N-" Nanami takes off his watch and places it beside the sink, leaving that sentence hanging, leaving you blinking at your own reflection for a moment.

Nanami steps into the shower temple, turning on the shower and letting his left arm and shoulder soak in the cold wetness of the water.

Soon enough the infection starts to wriggle and make screeching sounds as the energy in the water starts killing it.

Grabbing the container from your sample kit you step into the space. "I'm taking a sample now."

A few mud-coloured droplets that are still screeching are caught in the container while the rest of them are washed away in the water and down the drain, leaving Nanami's body healed to its original perfection.

"Feel better?"

Nanami does feel better. He can feel all the tiredness leaving his body with the water. He turns around to tell you the same.

You are looking at the container and about to walk out of the shower temple. "Let's get you back to the lab to Senp-"

Your words get stuck in your throat when your foot slips on the wet tile and your hands are grabbing at the air to break your fall.

The air does not break your fall. But Nanami does. His one hand is quick to cushion your head from hitting the wall while his other hand grabs your waist and pulls you to himself. Fearing not to make you fall for a second time, he backs into the wall behind him for support, bringing you both under the shower.

The container falls on the tiled floor as your hands grab onto his shoulders for support and your heart tries to get accustomed to the fear of the fall.

Neither of you move for a moment. Neither of you wants to in fear of doing something the other might now like in such close proximity to each other.

Close proximity? You both are grabbing onto each other as if your lives depend on it.

"Y/N? You okay?" Nanami finally whispers when he does not feel you move for a long while.

"Yes," you breathe, moving your face away from his shoulders- which are welcoming and hot- and facing him. "Sorry. I slipped."

Before Nanami can point out the futility of an apology that is not your fault, you smile and move your hands through his hair. "Aw shucks! I ruined your hair. It's wet now."

That does it for Kento Nanami. That one brush of your fingers in his hair reverberates through his whole body.

"Stop, Y/N," he refrains from growling.

Your hand immediately retreats from his head, pausing in the air and wondering with lost eyes if you did something wrong.

Ah, shit. He doesn't like his hair messed with.

"Stop giving me wrong ideas," he whispers, turning off the shower with his free hand.

"Wrong...what?" your voice barely rises above a whisper.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" You try to wriggle out of his hold, a little hurt at the assumptions you are making in your head. "I'm sorry for messing your hair."

"My hair isn't the only thing you are messing with."

You scoff, feeling offended. "I'll fix it, okay! Your hair and whatever else I messed with."

Nanami runs his hands through his hair and you have to gulp back some things that rather not come to your lips.

"Are you sure, Y/N?" Nanami looks you in your eyes with a stare you have not seen him with. And you don't want to curl up or back down, so you match his gaze with yours.

"One hundred per cent."

"So, would you be okay if I kissed you?"

The question catches you off guard. But not in the way it is supposed to. "Why would I not be okay?" you scoff. Only after you have given the answer does your brain realise what the question was.

Nanami does not waste time. His lips are on yours within seconds. His arm wraps itself around your waist to bring you closer to him.

Your hands do not know what to do at that sudden kiss. It is when Nanami draws himself away to look at you do they find themselves caressing the dip of his jaw and welcoming him back for another kiss.

Your tongue licks his lips, inviting him. Nanami lets his tongue dance with yours, bringing out a guttering moan from your throat; a moan that heats up something inside the sorcerer forcing him to lift you up by your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the bathroom to his bedroom.

He is careful when putting you down on his bed.

Oh! The grey duvet.

But that duvet is the least of your concerns right now when the six-foot-tall man stands at the edge of his bed wiping the water off his face, breathing a little heavily and looking at you with...what was that emotion in his eyes?

"Tell me to stop if you don't want to..." he whispers.

"Don't," your voice cracks. You can visibly see him pause his breath for a second. "Don't stop."

The dim lighting in his bedroom is perfect for watching him as his shoulders relax.

He gets on the bed, one leg at a time, dipping the sheets around you with his weight, crawling to catch your lips with his.

Your hands are nervously working on your sweater's buttons under him. He moves away to help you with it, forcing out a tiny wince from you; getting a low chuckle out of him.

Your skirt's zipper is stuck, not budging when it should be sliding down like a seal on an iceberg. Nanami is being as gentle as possible with it but it's all going in vain.

That's when you feel him dig his fingers in over the edges of the fabric near the zipper, your skin heating up where his fingers are in contact with you.

"Y/N-" he looks up at you with embers of unflinching will in his brown eyes, "let me buy you another skirt tomorrow."

The sound of the rip registers after the fabric comes apart in your brain because your eyes are too busy studying how his shoulders tense up just to get you out of your clothes.

The tights are next. But they are taken off with the most delicate touch by the sorcerer. So is the underwear.

He starts by planting kisses on your thighs, moving slowly to the inside while making your nerves light up at every touch. And if that is not enough, his hands tease and massage them to relax you every time you tense up.

He inhales the smell of your core as if he is breathing in the fresh waterfalls in the forest, and then sits back up. Lifting you up by your waist, he rolls to the other side of the bed with him at the bottom and you at the top. He adjusts your thighs on either side of his waist before dragging you further up his torso.

You watch in confusion as he takes the support of the head of his bed and slides further down.

"Sit on me," he announces.

"....what?"

"Sit on my face," he does not stutter.

But you do. "N-Nanami."

He simply lifts your thighs up and brings your core closer to his face.

Do I weigh anything to you?

His hands push your thighs apart, letting him get better access to you. You are not putting your weight down and taking the support of the headboard instead, worried about suffocating him.

But the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you jump up.

Nanami is quick to anchor your thighs with his hands, forcing you to put all your weight on him. He starts what seems like an incantation being written with his tongue inside you.

Sucking and licking, flicking and teasing, he is your very own roller coaster of pleasure tonight, making you writhe with pleasure under his touch.

And lo...you can feel the wetness gather around your walls.

"Nanami-" you are trying your best to breathe right- "I'm gonna-Nanami. Wait. I'm gonna pee. Ah!"

This man keeps touching all the right nerves again. And again. And again.

You are being driven to the edge. "Nanami stop!"

And he stops for a minuscule second, giving you a window to lift yourself up and flop on your back next to him, trying to bring your lungs back to normal.

"Did it hurt?"

Nanami's hand comes to move the stray strands of your hair away from your face glowing with sweat under the dim bedroom light.

He is looking over you, half up on his arm while his other hand is caressing your face. "Y/N, did it hurt?"

You shake your head. "No. No, I just felt I was about to pee and I didn't want...to do it...over you."

You can see his lips glisten with your juices. He closes his eyes and licks his lips before rolling to the other side, sitting up at the edge and eventually getting up.

The light coming from the bathroom perfectly draws out the cuts of the tensed muscles all over his body while his back is still towards you.

Wait...is it over?

You can see him curl his hands into fists before releasing them and finally walking the length of his bed to come to your side.

You rise up on your elbows.

It's over, isn't it? Your inner voice is smacking you left and right, blaming you for stopping the pleasure harp of a lifetime just as it was about to reach its crescendo.

He goes for the chest next to his bed, opens the top drawer and takes out a small packet that glistens under the scarce light.

"Next time-" he removes his shorts, freeing his already hard length, and gets up on the edge of the bed in front of you- "when you are on top of me-" he tears the packet with his teeth and takes out a condom, pumping his length with his free hand- "I have already played out the probabilities of me suffocating in between your thighs-" he puts the condom on his length and then rests his arms on your raised knees, finally looking into your eyes with a passion you have not seen in him before.

"Next time-" he bends a bit forward to lean in for a kiss and undo the hook of your bra- "waterboard me."

Your bra is on the floor. His hands cup your breasts perfectly, massaging them as his kisses grow intense with every passing second. Then he moves onto your neck, biting it in places before licking the heat away.

Parting from you, he takes one pillow and places it under your head, another between you and the headboard and the last one under your lower back.

Letting his cock gather the juices on your edges, he looks at you while taking his time to enter you.

Both of you feel your breaths cemented in your throats letting you get accustomed to each other. He leans closer to you, planting a kiss on one of your cheeks while caressing the other with his hand. "You okay?"

You nod, feeling your walls adapt to his length.

Nanami drives out before slowly driving himself back in, giving you time to adjust to the pace. Once he knows you are comfortable, he lifts up your legs in the air and brings them to rest on his shoulders.

This time when he drives himself into you, you can feel your core light up with a different brand of intensity, leaving you to gasp for air and letting a moan slip from your throat.

Nanami smirks to himself and plants a kiss on your ankle. He has found your spot. He increases the pace a bit, loving every second of your view; as your breasts bounce to his rhythm, as you try to hold onto his duvet and his pillow, as your eyes close and your head dips back when you feel the pleasure spots light up and your moans get louder. He is loving every moment of you because you are his pleasure.

"K-Kento!"

His name from your mouth feels like a prayer, making his core shudder.

"Yes, love," he sputters between his strokes.

"I'm-ah-"

You don't get to finish your sentence.

He can feel your walls tighten around his cock, undoing his restraints and making him grunt.

He fastens his pace, the squelching and clapping of your bodies growing wilder. Taking both your legs in the hold of one arm, he lets his other hand go down to your core. His fingers find your clit and rub it to let you have your release as he starts feeling his length swell up.

Soon enough, the damn you feel rising up breaks, leaving you with shuddering legs.

Nanami elongates your orgasm as he feels his length at the edge of the eruption. Soon enough, he finds his high with one guttering growl leaving his lungs.

Sweaty and breathless, the both of you.

Nanami is spent; lying on top of you.

You run your hands through his hair as he rests his head on the nape of your neck to catch his breath.

Getting up on his arms, he looks at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You can't help but smile as the edge of your eyes water up. Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him closer for a kiss.

Nanami carefully gets his length out of you before going straight for the bathroom. You hear the tap run for a few seconds before he comes out with a wet towel to clean you up.

The condom is disposed and you are directed into the bathroom to take a shower. Nanami joins you a few minutes later, planting soft kisses on your back.

Layered up in his oversized black t-shirt and grey shorts, you come out to find the grey sheets gone and a purple duvet waiting to greet you.

Just as you are looking at the new sheets, a needle of anxiety pricks you in your chest.

Do I stay? Do I dress up and walk out? Is...this...was this a one-night...

The thought makes your heart sink.

"Get in," Nanami orders you as he comes out of the door in a white t-shirt and grey shorts, raising the duvet from the edge for you.

The sinking heart rises up a little from the depths of darkness.

You get under the sheets and watch as he moves- first to the edge of the bed to keep something in the empty partition cubicle, and then- to the other side, switches off the lights and gets under the sheets.

You slide down the sheets while your heart rises a bit further.

You feel his arm looking for you under the sheets, finding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

He extends his arm to let you rest your head on it.

The light from the city outside is enough for him to watch your face glow and your eyes search for something in his. He moves your hair away from your face and caresses your cheeks.

"Nanami?" you whisper, still not taking your eyes off him.

"Hm?"

"Do you...like me?"

Silence.

The calm of the apartment is broken by Nanami's chuckle.

"Oh. Y/N-" the depth of his voice reverberates through his home as he exhales your name still titillates your core- "what will I do with you?!"

The maroon crystal rests on the once-empty space in the partition in Nanami Kento's home.

[liesmyth]

I'm always thinking about how G— was an engineer. A damn good one: the sole engineer of the cryo project, good enough that of all the ten billion, the FTL project chose him to inspect their work, back when the project was still a pipe dream. He was a man from an immigrant family in an underprivileged area who became arguably the world's best engineer, which is impressive in its own right, but it gets me thinking... Pre-Resurrection, John says they can't grow food on Mars (and for all John's unreliability, that's pretty believable, given that the high perchlorate concentration in Martian soil is one of the big obstacles to carrying out a sustained Mars mission), and as silly as this might sound, the engineer and scientist divide is real, and of all the nerds that John resurrected, I can't imagine it was the artist or the contract lawyer or the medical and chemistry experts that made the Mars installation viable. Gideon made a House out of it, and one that accepts recruits from across the Dominican system! "Saint of Duty" is said to fit him, evident in his loyalty and commitment to the Cohort and fighting the Resurrection Beasts, but I have to wonder, how much of that was his commitment to making shit work? I can't shake the image of a couple million people awaking to a ruined world, and someone had to get the other Houses settled, figure out spacecraft and space habitats using what little supplies they have left, and what better candidate for that than the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice?

ANON I love this so much. You're SO right, and you put into words something about G1deon and John's shared background that I've tried to articulate for a while. In the very first chapter, John says, "It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money for a bigger team; we were simply the only ones capable of what they were asking."

This was an incredibly elite team. They were a brilliant bunch of hyperspecialised nerds. And, like, among John's squad, A- and M- and everyone else started out as colleagues — very smart people he probably met in academic circles, where being smart was kind of a prerequisite. It was their research that brought them together to begin with.

G1deon, though! He was John's friend growing up. John knew his grandparents. They spotted each other spare changes for snacks!! Then John went on to Dilworth, then to university and then overseas, and G1deon had his own (probably different) academic path, and maybe they only stayed vaguely in touch, but when it was time to look for an engineer that could help them build spaceships constructed to provide life support to the whole of humanity for centuries — and G1deon was the guy for that.

The fact that two boys from similar underprivileged backgrounds individually made huge breakthroughs in their chosen fields, and got to work together on a project that was meant to save the world... I bet at the time it felt like a miraculous coincidence. I think they thought, if they'd made it that far, that they could do anything.

(yet another layer to the tragedy of what happened etc etc. G1deon torn between John and P—. John stopping G1deon's heart)

Thank you so much for all your thoughts about the Mars space installation, also — I wonder how long there was between Mars becoming the Second House (founded by G1deon! he and Pyrrha did the bulk of the work!) and the institution of the Third House, which doesn't have a named founder and might very well have been a shared project built on the blueprint of what G1deon set up. "the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice" — my god I love this so much. It's G1deon emo hours today

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write something for mary when she could be having a bad day or something and the reader helps cheer her up

Lucky Gloves

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Mary just needs her girlfriend after a hard day, but it's date night

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were late.

Not that you really had somewhere to be, it was more just an annoyance – it was date night. Every Thursday the two of you would go out together, just a little tradition you had carried through two years of dating each other.

“I’m sorry love, let me get changed quickly, and then we can be off.” You rushed into the house, not even seeing Mary anywhere but you were far too stressed to notice.

Ten minutes later, now changed out of your teacher attire you started to look for Mary when she was not read by the door like she usually was. “Mary?” You could not hear an immediate response, furthering your panic. “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

Ah. There she was.

But after following her vague noises you did not find her in a casual-chic outfit ready to wine and dine you like she usually did. “Mary? Love, why are you still wearing your training stuff?”

The goalkeeper did not answer aside from a deep groan as she burrowed her face deeper into your favorite fluffy blanket. Wordlessly you sat down next to the couch on the ground, rubbing her back. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Finally, she turned her head, now facing you. Tired puffy eyes meeting your own. “Sorry love. Let me get dressed.” With cracking bones your girlfriend started sitting up, not expecting you to throw yourself on top of her.

With you straddling her lap, hugging her close to you, she had no way of leaving. Of course, she could just stand up with you on her hip, but she would never use her strength like that, too scared that she would hurt you.

A couple of minutes of careful coaxing and cooing in her ears let the brunette finally relax, nuzzling her face into your warm neck – humming with contentment. “What’s up with you my love, huh?”

Mary would never admit it to her teammates, no matter how much she loved them, but here in your shared home, with you on her lap was the only place that she would ever call home. “Had a really shitty day.”

“Awwh, I’m sorry honey. Why don’t you take a shower and get changed into comfy clothes and I’ll get us some food, huh?”

As good as that sounded, it was Thursday, and it was the goalkeeper's turn to choose the place to eat, and she didn’t want to disappoint you. You, who had shitty days all the time and never needed to be treated like a baby. “But it’s Thursday baby. It’s my tu-“

The blonde couldn’t whine further as she was shut up with her favorite lips giving her a soft kiss. “Nonsense love – quiet night in. Doctor’s order!”

A soft laugh escaped her chest, letting you relax just a little. “Who’s my doctor then?”

“Me of course – silly girl!” Your blatant lie of being a doctor only made the older woman laugh harder, pushing you off her lap. “Alright then.”

Twenty minutes later you were changed into one of Mary’s ‘MAE27’ shirts, fuzzy socks, and some shorts that definitely weren’t yours either. “Supporting me, I see.”

Warm arms wrapped themselves around your waist, Mary’s head finding its favorite place in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses wherever she could. “I’ll always support you, baby.” And she knew you meant it, even without the deep kiss that followed your silent promise – but she was thankful for it either way.

Mary laid the cutlery down on the couch table, ignoring your perfectly made dining space, opting for comfort instead.

So here you were, each a bowl of your favorite soup in your lap while the goalkeeper’s feet kept digging into your sides.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s made your day so bad then, love?” You had both finished your bowls, so Mary took it upon herself to steal yours from you, setting them both down on the table before laying back on the couch – pulling you on top of her.

Your front pressed snuggly against yours as her prize-winning hands found their place in your hair, giving you a massage.

“This morning I woke up without you – bad enough. Then I couldn’t find my lucky gloves and spilled my coffee. So I wanted to go to that tiny shop down the road, yeah? I get there – closed! Can you imagine? So I get to training and all Mark did was yell at me, fucking hate that prick. And then Ella – goddamn Tooney goes and fucking lobs me. The cheek the girl has! And, oh my god, she didn’t shut up about it!”

Mary’s rant continued for a while, finally getting everything off her chest. But no matter how shitty her day was, here in your arms life was perfect.

[causeimhappinesss]

On his backseat (Joel Miller x reader)

Warning: smut, age gap (reader in her 20s), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink + wrap your biscuit, please

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

Bonus: a meme at the end

*

All day long, a crazy tension had built up between you and Joel, at first for a silly little thing, but he refused to agree with you, when you were absolutely right. Then, the tension had built up so much between the two of you, that it had metamorphosed and soon, the older man's hands had been wandering, though discreet.

“I'm going to go. I'm leaving you and don't kill each other!” Ellie joked.

With these words, she slammed the door of the car you had repaired and leaved the garage you had just entered. You would even say that she was running away from you, undoubtedly uncomfortable because of the tension that had gradually built up in the car, but which she probably didn't imagine would be sexual. From time to time, when Ellie was reading one of his comics, he had kept his hand on your thigh, which he stroked, knowing what effect it had on you. She had preferred to leave as soon as possible and give you time to explain yourself with Miller, while she rested in the house where you had taken up residence for two days, the time to search this cute town from top to bottom. Once she was inside the mansion, you turned your attention to your lover... Of course, Ellie didn't know the true nature of your relationship: friend by day, sexfriend by night.

"Well... would it kill you to admit I was right about that damn alarm?"

"You weren't right. We should have been more careful..." he growled.

"Oh yeah, sure, and spend three hours on an alarm system to disconnect it, when it doesn't even take us ten minutes to get all the weapons back." you retorted, sarcastically.

Miller grumbled, but the sound of it brought a smile to your face, because the old man always made you laugh one way or another. Then he met your eyes and a glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. You slid a hand over his chest and felt his heartbeat under your palm; a sensation you'll never forget. His lips parted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to know the moment. Your fingers slid over his warm skin in gentle caresses as you admired the masculine beauty of his body. Then your phalanges slid lower and traced the contours of his abs. A sigh escaped from his lips, which pushed you to unbuckle his seat belt, then the one holding his pants, which you made fall. Its excitation was felt, a bump formed in its boxer, that you touched with malice, before releasing it from this confined space.

A wave of heat ran through you as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling the velvety texture of his skin. You began slow and gentle back and forth movements, under the spell of the intensity present in his eyes. Joel gasped, so that his hands clutched your hips as you increased the pressure in my movements. Your free hand explored the skin of his chest, then his thighs, until you felt his breath catch. You peppered him with kisses until his desire stretched like a bow.

"Baby..." he growled, sliding a hand into your hairline.

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you knelt on the car seat, staring at your partner. Your fingers kept on caressing him skillfully, being the source of the accumulation of pleasure in his belly. Slight grunts broke through the barrier of his lips and made your hair stand on end. God knows how beautiful he was, that expression of desire portrayed on his face, eyebrows furrowed, sweat beading his gray brows. Again, you stared at his body, admiring his chiseled abs and broad chest, before lingering on the throbbing erection before you. Then, you wrapped his length in your wet mouth. You felt him harden further and moan in response to your movements, so much so that his hips undulated. Your tongue ran along his member, while your lips worked their magic around him. His hands tangled in your hair as you titillated him, encouraging his pleasure, so that he struggled to contain himself. Your tongue played with his red tip and his whole member throbbed in your mouth, as if he was already approaching orgasm. Yet you knew Joel wouldn't accept such a thing; he was always holding back to make you cum first.

"Fuck... You're going to drive me crazy..."

Soon, you could no longer contain your desire and you gave in to your desires. You climbed onto his thighs and felt the heat radiate between your boiling bodies. You undulated your hips over his boner and placed kisses on his neck, before you rubbed yourself on one of his muscular thighs. Your movements became frantic and desperate, as if the world was about to end another time.

The warm night air washed over your skin, but the coolness inside the car was gentle. Your heart was pounding, a delicious mixture of desire and fear... The fear of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Joel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pressed his lips to your neck. You moaned softly, your body aching deliciously from his touch. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him to feel his body closer to yours. His lips follow yours in a fiery kiss. Electric sparks flew through you with each touch and caress.

Dizzy with desire, you pulled him into the backseat. His hands peeled away layers of you as you mimicked him between feverish kisses. Soon you were naked, on your knees, with your butt against him, giving him a magnificent view of your pussy. With his experienced fingers, he teased your clitoris, with which he played, while stroking your breasts. You were already wet and ready for him, but you felt no shame. Sex was one of the pleasures still present on this earth, especially when you were on the road like you. And your body knew full well that you were meant to fuck with him, it worked so well between the two of you... The pleasure climbed and your first moans of pleasure echoed through the cabin, as your fingers gripped the fabric of the backseat.

"Joel..."

He also knew what rhythm to take with your clit; he was playing with your emotions and your body. When he felt you on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and you squealed. Before you knew it, his warm tongue slid along your labia, drawing the contours of your clitoris, then one of his fingers brushed the entrance to your vagina. Another moan of pleasure forced its way through your lips and you nearly collapsed forward, but her strong arms held your thighs back.

"You taste like honey... I could eat your pussy all night..."

Your heart was pounding, banging against your ribcage violently, so you were begging him to make you reach nirvana. Without delay, the orgasm hit you full force, your legs shook and the euphoria poured into your veins in the form of powerful waves of shivers.

Then, with his hands on your hips, his cock pushed into you, drawing a moan of pleasure from you as he grunted. You were so tight and hot that he threw his head back for two seconds, his jaw clenched, and then he watched your two sexes joined together; an erotic sight that made him shudder. It was as if your pussy had been molded for his thick, long cock. A perfection he relished and enjoyed as often as possible. Finally, he moved inside you, a touch that filled you with more desire, made you quiver and tremble. Nothing else mattered at that moment; just you and the sweet union of your bodies. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the sound of your labored breaths filling the air of the car. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied your song of pleasure, which you tried to restrain, to avoid Ellie from hearing you, just in case.

"Oh shit... Joel... Don't stop..."

"I don't plan on stopping..." he whispered in your ear, in a suave voice.

You held on to this moment and let his love consume you in your wholeness. You were enjoying the moment, knowing that it won't last forever. For now, you were loving the delicious sensation he was producing in your lower abdomen. His powerful hands, anchored on your waist, drew you closer to him, your back against his chest, in a carnal embrace.

Without ever ceasing his sinful movements inside me, his lips traveled the delicate skin of your neck, your faces illuminated by the moonlight, resulting in a romantic and intimate atmosphere...

"Fill me up... Don't pull out..." you moaned.

"Oh God..." he growled. He was aware that cumming inside you was a bad idea, it wasn't like you were taking birth control, but the idea of his cum filling your hot, wet pussy amplified his pleasure. He was already picturing you with a nice round belly once you got back to Tommy's.

The excitement of getting caught fed the burning fire in your veins. You made the moment last as long as possible, until you both climaxed with moans. Your pussy pulsed around his thick cock and milk him dry. Your heart was pounding, beads of sweat ran down your skin and you were shaking. His seed spilled into you as his hot breath rushed down your neck.

*

Sorry, Ellie... For the backseat you're gonna spend another bunch of hours on.

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

[baby-yongbok]

Puppy's Punishment

HardDom!Seungmin x Sub!Fem!Reader

🩶Genre: Smut, Porn no plot. 1% plot 99% disgusting 🥵

🩶Summary: How do you train a dog to not piss on the floor? Stick their face in it.

🩶A/N: I'm trying to write some different kinds of smut and thought I'd share. The idea came to me last night soooo here its is! Enjoy!

🩶Word Count: 2,290

‼️Warnings: Puppy Play, D/S Dynamics, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Spit, Cursing, Degradation, Piss kink, Rough sex, Cum eating/Swallowing, Mentions of breeding (Sorry If I missed any)

‼️Names Used Towards Reader: Pup, Sweet girl, Bitch, Mutt

‼️Names Used Towards Seungmin: Sir, Min, Seung

✨Masterlist✨

collar banner by: @benkeibear

“There's no point in hiding. I'm going to find you.” Seungmin's voice echoed through the quiet house as his bare feet padded across the hardwood slowly.

You were in trouble to put it lightly but this is exactly what you wanted. You and Seungmin had a unique relationship. In public you're the sweet silly couple, always teasing each other lovingly and cracking jokes with others. But at home it was different. You're his submissive, his pet. He is your dominant, your owner and a strict one at that. He has zero tolerance for disobedience so you make sure to be a bit bratty and break the rules from time to time, just to spice things up a bit.

“You can't hide forever, mutt.” You hear his footsteps nearing your hiding spot. You know that it's an obvious spot, you know that you'll get caught and that's exactly what you want. “What do we have here?”

You yelp in shock as he swings the closet door open, swiftly grabbing you by your foot and pulling you out of your ‘safe’ space.

“Looks like I found a spoiled, disobedient bitch in heat.” You whimper at his sharp words as he stands over you. His glare is dark yet amused. He's having fun with this.

“I didn't do it, sir.” You blink up at him through thick lashes, pretending to be oblivious to the cause of this chase.

“Really? So there's another mutt walking around here and pissing on the floor? You want to go with that story?” You bat your lashes, shaking your head at him and he clicks his tongue in response as he bends down to your level.

“When did my sweet little pup become a brat?” He reaches out to you, stroking your cheek gently with the pads of his fingers. He watches you with sparkling eyes as you melt into his touch. Savoring every second of attention.

“Ah, she wanted my attention, huh? My puppy missed me?” You nod your head softly yet fast enough to convey your urgency. “Bad girls don't get this kind of attention.”

His gentle touch shifts into a stinging pain as he slaps you firmly across your cheek causing a surprised whimper to escape you. Before you can look back at him his hand is in your hair. His nails scratch at your scalp as he grabs a fist full and pulls you forward onto all fours.

“Bad puppies get punished, you know that don't you?” He walks you by your hair, keeping his grip tight as he leads you down the hallway and over to the mess you made. You crawl as fast as you can to keep the stinging on your scalp to a minimum. You can feel your thighs getting slick and sticky with arousal as the moments pass.

“I trained you better than this, didn't I?” He stops you in front of the puddle you made on the living room floor. Pulling your head back by your hair to make sure that you look exactly where he wants.

“Yes, sir.” This was the game that you loved to play. Be a disobedient brat one second and then an angel the next. You knew that he loved it that way, he loved your fake innocence and the way that you'd submit to him once things were going according to plan for you.

“Do I need to drill the rules into you? Write them on my cock and fuck it into you?” You moan nearly instinctively and your dripping cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fuck the rules into her?” Seungmin's free hand pulled the hem of his sweatpants down just enough to free his hard cock. Your mouth watered at the sight. He let go of his grip on your hair, pushing your head forward a bit before he circled around to your rear and kneels. He slides your shorts and panties down your legs, leaving them in a pool around your knees. His fingers glide through your folds, prodding and teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“What kind of sick girl gets off on being in trouble? You like it when I'm mad at you, huh?” Your eyes roll back into your head at his teasing tone. He smacks your ass hard and you lunge forward a bit, nearly falling into the mess in front of you.

“I asked you a question, didn't I?”

“Yes, sir. I love it when you're mad at me.” He slides two of his fingers into you as you answer him. Your mouth falls open in a quiet gasp as he stretches you, curling up towards your sensitive spot and stroking the soft wall.

“This pussy is so swollen for me.” With his free hand he spreads your cheeks and licks a wet stripe over your asshole. A deep moan erupts from your throat as he rims your hole.

“Fuck.” He pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt, there's no possible way that he isn't nearly grazing your cervix.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He scissors his fingers inside of you and you bite your lip to muffle your moan.

“I'm sorry, sir.” He slides his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty and longing for him.

“Show me a trick.” He leans back onto his knees with a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I- I don't know -” Before you can finish your sentence his fingers are laced through your locks again. Pulling at the strands lightly before he pushes you forward, your cheek presses against the floor and you moan at the feeling of the cool liquid on your face.

“How about you beg?” He runs the tip of his dick up and down your cunt. Collecting your slick and teasing you simultaneously. “Beg me to fuck your face into your piss.”

“S-sir.” You squeeze your eyes shut as his tip runs over your clit at a teasingly slow pace. “Please fuck me. Fuck me into the mess I made. Punish me for being a bad puppy. Please, sir. I deserve it.”

His cock breaches your dripping hole slowly, sliding in at a torturous pace. “Ah, my sweet pup is in heat for sure. Cunt so wet.”

He takes his time bottoming out, his low grunts of pleasure sends shocks right down to your cunt as you take every inch of him. “You know better.” He pulls back quickly and slams his hips into you. You lunge forward, bracing yourself with one of your hands in the puddle beneath you.

“You know better than to fucking piss on the floor, don't you girl?” His tone is mockingly sweet as he starts to pound into you.

“Y-yes Sir, I'm sor-ry.” He finds a steady rhythm, fucking you at a rough moderate pace. His hand stayed laced in your hair, holding you down into the puddle.

“You see that? You see what you did? Are you going to do it again?” He picks up his pace a bit as he tries to literally drill his rules into you. You whimper at the change. Holding your breath for a second before you answer.

“No s-sir.” He angles his hips upward, hitting the perfect spot as you stutter your reply.

“Stay.” He hisses as he removes his hand from your hair and moves to grip your hips. He speeds up more, fucking into you at an ungodly pace. Gaspy screams escape you as you brace yourself against the floor. Your hair and forearms are wet with your mess as he pounds you.

“You could've gotten fucked like a good girl.” He spreads your cheeks enough to run his thumb over your asshole. “You could've asked for my attention.”

He spits down onto the puckered hole, spreading the wetness with his thumb before pressing into the greedy hole slowly. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp at the sensation.

“But you just had to be a disobedient bitch, huh? You had to make me punish you.” A moan follows his statement as you clench around him. He tilts his head back in bliss, taking in the warmth of your walls for a second. Your moans fill the air mixed with the sound of skin slapping as your orgasm creeps up your spine.

“Sir, I'm gonna-” You’re cut off by a deep groan from your partner. He leans over you. Pressing his front to your back and reaching around to rub your clit.

“The fuck you are, hold it, mutt.” He grunts in your ear as your cunt swallows him, contracting around him repeatedly as you fight to contain your climax. “Be a good girl for once.”

He hisses at you through clenched teeth as he grinds into you, kissing your cervix lightly with the perfect curve of his cock.

“Min- seung - sir, I can't, I'm gonna.” He spits down at you and you wince at his saliva hitting your cheek, you feel it as it runs down at mixes with the piss below you.

“If you fucking cum I will ruin you.” His threat comes out as a growl that sends shivers down your spine and pleasure to your pussy. You struggle to hold back as he abuses your clit, flicking the sensitive numb at a harsh pace.

“You're going to take my cum, aren't you, pup? You're going to let me breed you. M'gonna fuck my puppies deep into this cunt.” You cry out as you feel yourself start to tip over the edge. Seungmin feels your walls flutter around him and pinches your clit between his fingers.

“Do it, I dare you, go ahead.” You know better than to listen to him. He's teasing you. Your mind knows that but your body doesn't care. A wave of burning hot euphoria washes over you as you fall apart on his dick. Your body shakes as the intensity builds with each of his rough strokes. He continues to abuse your clit to his content, ignoring your desperate cries for relief.

“Sir, it's s-so much, so much.” You can tell that he's on the edge of his pleasure by how his breathing changes and how sloppy and sharp his thrusts are getting. His nails bite into your hip as he uses you. Ignoring your cries like you're no more than a toy for him to use.

“Take.It.” He punctuates his words with a harsh thrust and you can feel your high building again at the intensity.

“Fuck, baby, take it all. I'm gonna stuff this tiny cunt full of my cum, pup. Fuck, take it, take it all.” The fucked out growl in his tone nearly sends you over the edge for a second time. You feel his cock twitch in your pussy as his thumb pushes deeper into your ass, filling you up to his knuckle.

You moan as his hot cum spills into you, painting your walls white as it tries to escape your tight hole. Seungmin slows his thrusts as he comes down from his high, still maintaining a slow and deep rhythm.

“You like making messes?” He lets go of your hair as he sits up, pulling out of your cunt slowly. He watches as your pussy clenches and his cum seeps out of you, dripping onto the floor and creating another puddle beneath you.

“Sit up.” With a shaky breath you lift your head. The cool sensation of your piss dripping off of your hair and down your face and neck makes you shiver as you turn to face him. He looks down at the puddle of cum between the two of you. His eyes are dark and clouded as they meet yours. “Clean it up.”

You stare back at him with hazy fucked out eyes. There isn't a single thought in your head. The only thing that you know to do, want to do, is obey him. You place your palms on the floor, getting back on all fours and leaning down to lick your mixed arousal from the hardwood. The bitter taste of his cum mixed with yours floods your tongue and you moan as you take it in. Seungmin clicks his tongue as he watches you, a devious smirk on his face.

“You're a disgusting little bitch you know that?” You blink up at him with your tongue out, his semen dripping off of the tip. “Swallow”

You do as you're told immediately, taking the mixture down your throat and sticking out your tongue to prove that it's gone. He leans forward, grabbing your chin gently and dipping down to attach your lips. He kisses you gently yet hungrily. You allow his tongue to part your lips and taste the arousal lingering on your palate. You whimper against his lips, chasing him a bit as he pulls away.

“My sweet girl, you did so well.” He strokes your hair, ignoring the wetness and grins down at you. “Color?”

“Green.” He nods at you with a smile as his thumb strokes your cheek softly.

“That's my pup, listen, I want you to go get in the shower and wait for me, okay?” You furrow your brows slightly as you agree. “I forgive you for making a mess.”

He kisses your forehead but his grip on your chin tightens a bit as he forces your gaze on his.

“But you came without permission and I told you what would happen.” You gulp at the sting that his sweet tone carries. He smirks at you as your eyes search his, quietly begging for mercy but you can tell that you won't get it. Just like you want to mess with him he takes pleasure in punishing you.

“I'm gonna fucking ruin you.”

[heavenlylie]

how you lost the girl

pairing: jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a rainy night makes you think back to your relationship with jenna, but a unexpected appearance interrupts your thoughts.

warnings: angst<3

word count: 3k

a/n: flashbacks are in italics!! heavily based on "how you get the girl" by taylor mother but ofc i had to make it angst..

The rain was relentless, pounding against the windowpane as if mirroring the turmoil inside your heart. Six months had passed since that fateful day when your relationship with Jenna crumbled like a fragile porcelain doll.

The apartment felt empty, its corners echoing with the memories of laughter, whispers, and stolen kisses that had once filled the space with warmth and love.

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jenna's silly behavior. She had just thrown flour all over you while you were trying to bake a batch of cookies using a recipe from your phone. "You are so weird," you said.

As the flour settled on your face, you couldn't help but laugh. She had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but you couldn't deny that her antics always made you smile.

"Alright, alright," you said, trying to hold back your laughter. "I think that's enough flour for one day."

Jenna giggled and brushed some of the excess flour off of her apron. Oh, come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I have plenty of adventure in my life, thank you very much."

Jenna smirked. "Oh really? Do tell." You smiled and leaned in closer to her.

"Well, for starters, there's this." And with that, you closed the distance between you and kissed her deeply.

The flour on your face was forgotten as you lost yourselves in the moment. Jenna's lips were soft against yours, and it felt like you could kiss her forever.

Eventually, you broke apart, both of you breathless and grinning from ear to ear. You brushed some of the flour off of Jenna's cheek, and she laughed, looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

"I guess I'll have to clean this mess up," you said, gesturing to the kitchen, which was now covered in a thin layer of white powder.

Jenna smiled mischievously. "Oh let's just leave it for now," she said, stepping closer to me again and placing her hand on your waist.

"Why don't we go do something else instead?" She suggested, looking up at you seductively through her lashes.

You chuckled softly and pulled her closer until your bodies were pressed together. "That sounds like an excellent idea," You agreed. And then you were off into the night, leaving the kitchen far behind you in a flurry of kisses and laughter.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the rain-soaked streets, your thoughts consumed by memories of her. You had tried so hard to move on and rebuild your life without Jenna, but the pain of her absence lingered like a ghost haunting your every step.

The rain made you wonder how everything had gone so wrong. Jenna was the love of your life, or so you thought. But things had spiraled out of control, and now here you were, alone and heartbroken.

"Maybe we could watch a movie tonight," Jenna suggested, her eyes on the road as she drove home after a long day of traveling.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at her. "Do you seriously have energy to watch a movie after a whole day of work plus flying home from New York?"

Jenna shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. "I'll have plenty of energy if the movie is interesting enough."

You chuckled again, admiring Jenna's mischievous spirit. Even after a long day, she was always up for a little excitement. As you pulled up to your house, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having her by your side.

Once inside, Jenna immediately made her way to the couch, scrolling through Netflix with a determined look on her face. You grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and settled in beside her, laying your head on her shoulders.

"What do you feel like watching?" you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Hmm, how about something with a little action and a lot of sex?" Jenna winked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement. "You never change, do you?"

Jenna leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "Why should I?" She said with a wide grin.

You turned away from the window, your heart heavy with a mixture of anger and longing. How can someone just disappear from your life without a proper explanation?

The hurt ran deep, leaving scars that no amount of time seemed capable of healing. As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Your heart raced in your chest as you cautiously approached the entrance. Who would be at your door at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday?

A sudden knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You hesitated for a moment before making your way to the door. You opened it to find Jenna standing in front of you, drenched to the bone by the rain, her eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed into her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. She looked up at you, and for a moment, neither of you said a word, the silence between you heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions.

"Are you insane?" Your voice wavered and your eyebrows furrowed, a mix of anger and vulnerability evident in your tone. "Showing up here like this after all this time?"

Jenna swallowed hard, her own emotions starting to overwhelm her. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left the way I did. I miss you."

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you―anger, hurt, and a deep, gnawing desire for her. You wanted her to explain why she had left and make things right. But at the same time, you couldn't ignore the intense longing you had for her, the way your heart leapt at the sight of her.

You wanted to pull her into your arms, to feel her warmth and sweet smell again, but you held yourself back. You needed to know the truth before even considering letting her in again.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice was cold and distant. As much as you wanted her, she didn’t deserve to see you cry. "You just disappeared without a word."

Jenna took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. "I was scared," she said, her voice shaking. "I didn't know how to deal with everything that was happening between us. I needed time to figure things out."

You felt a pang of sadness and hurt at her admission. How could she have just left without telling you? "You could have talked to me, Jenna," you said, a hint of anger creeping into your voice. "We could have worked through things together."

"I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I regret it every day. But I'm here now, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You shook your head, looking at her with an evident hurt in your face. "And it took you six months to come back? I mean, you left without giving me an explanation or looking back. Can you even begin to understand how much that hurt?" You said with tears in your eyes, holding them back for as long as you could.

Your gaze hardened, but her eyes held a glimmer of something that resembled hope. "A long six months, and you were too afraid to tell me what you wanted. Is that it?"

Jenna looked down, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her wet shirt. "I was afraid," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of losing you, of losing everything we had built together."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "And you think just showing up here in the middle of the night is going to make everything better?" You asked, your tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

Jenna looked up at you, her eyes filled with tears. "No," she said. "I know it won't. But I had to try. I had to see you, to tell you how much I love you, and to ask for your forgiveness."

You felt a knot form in your stomach at her words. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved her, and the thought of being without her had been unbearable. But at the same time, you couldn't just forget all the pain she had caused and let her back in your life.

The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a somber melody. You stood there, facing Jenna, contemplating your next move. It was tough to ignore the pain she had caused you, but at the same time, the love you had for her wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that.

You decide to speak up, knowing staring at her for too long would only hurt even more. "And what do you want, Jenna? You left because you were scared, now what?"

Jenna looked up at you with hopeful eyes, willing you to understand. "I want us to be together again. I want to make it work, to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You sighed, feeling torn between your desire to have her back in your life and the hurt she had caused you. "It's not that simple, Jenna," you said, your voice softening a bit. "You can't just waltz back into my life and expect everything to be okay. You hurt me beyond what I could ever even imagined. You are a coward, you should’ve fought for us, for me!" You said in a louder tone, letting your emotions take over, and the tears you were fighting back streamed down your face.

Jenna's eyes filled with tears as she listened to you, her own emotions starting to bubble up to the surface. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was a coward. I should have fought for us, for you. But I was scared, and I didn't know what to do, can't you understand that?"

"No! Because I don't want to be your dirty little secret, I deserve more than that! I deserve a girlfriend who’ll take me to her family’s Christmas dinner, a girlfriend who’s not afraid of what other people in the media will say about her relationship!" You said now crying almost uncontrollably. You wanted to hate her, you deserve better. But she was Jenna—your Jenna.

Jenna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a mixture of shame and love in her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry," she said. "I want to make it up to you, to be the girlfriend you deserve. Please forgive me."

You sighed. You wanted so much to believe her, but a part of you still felt that she was just trying to make things better for herself. "I don't know," you said, shaking your head.

"I'll do anything you want, I just want to win you back!" Jenna pleaded, tears and drops of rain streaming down her face.

You looked at her, knowing deep down she meant every word, but you still felt the hurt. It was an impossible situation, and you didn't know what to say.

Everything seemed to fall silent for an endless moment once again, and the weight of the situation settled in. The silence was almost deafening, and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes again at the thought of never seeing her again.

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. You knew that Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her. "I need time, Jenna," you said, your voice softening. "Time to think about everything that's happened, and time to decide if I can forgive you."

Jenna's eyes filled with tears once again, but this time they were tears of hope rather than desperation. "I understand," she said, her voice shaking. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I deserve your forgiveness."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. Maybe things could work out between you and Jenna, but it wouldn't be easy. "And I need space, Jenna," you said softly. "I need time to process everything and figure out what I want."

Jenna nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. "It's okay, I get it," she said again. "I'll give you all the space you need. But please don't shut me out completely."

You gave her a small smile, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of not seeing her again. "I won't shut you out completely, Jenna," you said. "But I need to take things one day at a time."

Jenna nodded again, wiping away her tears.

You watched as she turned to leave, her footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floor. As she reached the door, she turned back to look at you with a sad smile on her face. "I love you," she said softly, before slipping out into the rain and disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment, staring after her, unsure of what to do next. The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a lullaby.

You took a deep breath and let the gravity of the moment wash over you. Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her.

You knew that you needed to take things one day at a time and figure out what you really wanted. Only time will tell if you were willing to take the risk and try to make things work with Jenna again.

[hellenhighwater]

your house is so beautiful! if I ever buy a house I'm going to try to find one like yours, remodeling accepted. I love the way you've designed it and made it your own space <3

Honestly one of my favorite things about my house is that it's a little bit shit. Not terribly. Just a bit.

There's a finite limit to how much money I will ever get out of this house. It's not really an "investment" property. I mean, if and when I do sell it I'll probably come out money ahead, but it's an old house on a tiny city lot; property values are not going to change enough that I can retire off what I'll someday sell this house for. So that means that I don't have to be too precious with it; I can DIY things and paint it silly colors and put holes in the walls to put up hammock anchors and it's fine that I do that. It wasn't pristine when I got it and it certainly won't be pristine when I leave it, and I think that's delightful.

I do own this house, but it's got its own history--I tend to think of myself more as its current custodian than anything else, so when it comes to more permanent renovations I do try to stick to things that will be approachable for whoever keeps this house after me--neutral-ish colors for flooring and so on. That being said, paint and furniture choices go pretty far.

Thank you!

[heteromerous-rhyming]

i think that i've figured out why i don't like show sally.

ok like don't get me wrong, virginia kull?? she ATE with that interpretation. her acting?? amazing. like i could truly get the core of her character.

it's just that i don't like the character the writers give us.

cw: discussion of abusive relationships, of toxic family dynamics, probably a good bit of generational trauma. I don't really get into details except with stuff shown on the show and written in the books but i wanted to be safe.

as someone from an immigrant household, as someone whose mom works a part time minimum wage job, as someone whose seen and been there as my parents fought, i just really really dislike sally's portrayal in the show. and it's partly because of poseidon and partly because of gabe (mostly because of her character in general but yeah, lets get the men out of the way first)

I feel strongly about poseidon in his relationship to sally very specifically. i don't mind his relationship to percy either books or show. but it's pretty damn clear to me that this show was written by someone who's never experienced sally's situation, of being the single working parent with an absentee partner (or in gabe's case a partner who literally ahHHHHHh). because from the beginning, from sally's reaction and snark to gabe, I felt like something was wrong or off, and it was Specifically the show because i read the books and i watched (some) of the musical and i never felt that way towards either of those. i'm not saying that my family situation is sally's (don't have a god for a father for one), but. by all accounts sally knows that this is an abusive relationship, the only reason that she's with gabe is because of the protection he offers percy. i have to assume that this is true because sally jackson turning gabe to stone is something i'm assuming is staying in the show, and i remember this being mentioned by grover? or someone in the first few episodes. and the cord that struck in me was not the traditional (that is, visible, defined, i don't like this word but i don't have a better one) abusive relationship but relationships in my community, of women staying with husbands because of their children, women outright saying this, women who know the world is cruel to single women and to single mothers specifically. sally, to me has never been under any illusions that gabe is any sort of relationship material. she has never been under any illusions that poseidon would be able to help in any way.

and that crux of sally's relationships made her first scene in the show all that more jarring. but it's not anything specifically that i can put a finger on. and maybe i'm wrong for this or maybe i'm expecting too much. but. sally doesn't have the resentment or the quietness or the bitterness or even the loudness that i expected. you have been the only true caretaker for your child, the only one in the house that really puts food on the table and on top of that is expected to do emotional labor? to cook and clean or at least pick up the food?

but she treats gabe like he's an annoyance. someone to brush off. and you see the manipulation tactics from gabe, you do, but.

its not that i want sally's spirit to be crushed. my mother's spirit wasn't crushed. the women in my community, they laugh, they cry, they watch silly tv shows, they have lives that they live, and in many cases they live well.

but the women that i know are also angry. they are either on fire or they used to burn. when they banter with their partners it often turns ugly because they are tired of the same damn argument day after day, because often the trivial things that are asked are compounded and compounded and compounded because you live in the same house, there is no escape, there is no private space, not really.

it's new york and sally works a job to support an apartment and her family. they are not well-off. sally has no support network we can see, and how could she? poseidon mentions that she has no one to talk to about these things, her parents are clearly out of the picture. all this to say. there is a certain understanding of class that exists within the books that was excised, i believe unknowingly, from the show, and it is the worse for it. there is a tiredness, a worn-down-ness from being low income that sally had in the books, but in the show i only see a struggling first time single parent. i don't see the complexity of a woman who literally gave up on finding a fulfilling relationship to be with a man for her child. i don't see the complexity of a woman working fulltime and still getting demanded from at home. and i didn't realize that I wanted to see that until I saw the show. i didn't realize that that was what i loved about the books.

i hate that they tried to bring poseidon back into sally's life as this perfect man who through cosmic forces can't help. i hate that sally calls him, i hate that he says he'll listen. but most of all i hate that sally just accepts him, falls into him. it's really hard to be a mother when your partner doesn't seem to help you parent in any way, even if he cannot help you. he's a greek god, there's no way in hell that he can begin to understand the lengths that sally has gone through to sacrifice and survive, the very human things that she's done. sally in the books thinks of poseidon as a sweet memory, almost a fairytale, and it's clear that this story is the one that brings her comfort. poseidon is a one night stand, a sweet stranger, she understands he's not coming back. but this poseidon comes when sally calls, and that i cannot believe. i cannot believe that she still thinks of him as the fairytale man, that she accepts him so easily if there isn't that distance. i cannot believe that there is no resentment, that she still puts faith in him as her god (the first episode when she talks about him just felt so wrong to me) if he's not a memory, but a recurring figure. this is not a story of star-crossed lovers, sally feels too real as a human being for that.

sally finds trust, finds contentment, in the books after percy leaves home, after she no longer has to put up with gabe for his safety. she does not find poseidon again. she marries a human man, a very ordinary human man who cares for her. poseidon visits after she is in this relationship and its an amicable one. he is percy's father but also distant memory all in one. sally has the strength to survive a terrible relationship and still find a way to heal and live fully after that.

but the anger. the fire was there. she turned gabe to stone. she reclaimed her life with her two hands.

you don't kill a man for no reason. you don't kill a man without emotion.

but it's that reason and that emotion that i don't get from the writer's room. and it just makes me deeply sad.

[xohachi]

illuminate

| sherlock holmes x u |

word count: 966

u have a date tonight! ur actually on the date for the first half of the story and sherlock’s brooding about it so badly that he can’t sleep :( BUT u come back sad 😧 so he comforts u ☺️. {angst/comfort/cute ending} {this is for the girls w no dad.}

(LOOK AT HIS PUPPY DOG EYES I WANNA CRYYYYYY) (i hate writing stories in my notes app but I watched American beauty last night and that “you could never be ordinary,” scene literally ate me so i just haddd to write something based off it. so enjoy this blurb i wrote first thing in the morning at a sleepover)

The mundane tick of the clock nearly lulled Sherlock to sleep. He persevered through the heavy bricks on his eyelids, pacing the room thinking of you. The time now was 12:34am. You’d left for a date at around 8, you never went on dates. Sherlock preferred it that way, maybe then he’d get some sleep. He thought of you, the image of you in your little black dress and red heels… the way you styled your hair and left a few dangling curls to frame your already perfect face. The stubborn detective would never say it but it enraged him to see you dressed up like this for another man.

…

“How do I look?” You asked sheepishly. He watched your eyes meet his, inhaling the presence of your soul snaking its way into the void where his was supposed to be. Somehow during the time that the two of you had roomed together at 221B Baker St, Sherlock had fallen in love with you and he hated the fact that he didn’t hate it.

“You’re leaving?” His tone was low, monotonous.

“Yeah silly, I happen to have a date tonight.” You gave him a spin. His eyes locked onto the slit in your already short dress and how it hiked up even higher when you moved. A scowl snuck onto his face as he thought about you dancing with lesser men at sub par bars, the way they’d probably slide a hand down your back, itching for an invitation to taint you with their touch.

…

‘A date,’ He muttered to himself. A cigarette sat between his lips. Sherlock leaned onto the fireplace and pulled his head back as he exhaled. Finally, your footsteps echoed up the stairs. He put out his cigarette and scrambled to find a place in his chair. Quickly picking up his violin, fumbling with the tuning to look busy. You’d left the house wearing heels yet your footsteps showed no indication of heels on your feet. You’d probably taken them off after too much dancing & the thought brought a red jealous haze back into his mind but he decided to let it go. Your dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. Something was wrong. He quickly scanned you with his eyes. Messy hair, your left dress strap sliding down your shoulder, your hand on your right shoulder seemingly massaging a bothering ache, perhaps from carrying your purse. Turning around, a yelp emerged from your throat.

“Sorry,” You choked out, trying to mask your sobs, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You glanced down at the violin in his hands, yet his attention was solely on you. Sherlock’s eyebrow was cocked as he continued to silently read your tells. Shaky voice, running mascara, you’d been crying. Your arms were hugging your body, you’d been hurt. He stood up cautiously.

“He hurt you…” Sherlock concluded aloud, inching closer. His hands were somewhat extended towards you as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

“No, Sherlock he didn’t, I’m alright.” You closed the space between the two of you. The sudden feeling of your small hands on his chest electrified him yet also diminished a fraction of his anger. Physically sure, you seemed to be okay. Sherlock realized that you were hugging your body to console deep emotional pain. Physical or emotional didn’t matter to him though, all that mattered was that you were in pain.

“You’re crying. He made you cry, I’ll murder him.” His rough calloused hands cupped either side of your face, his words venomous with intent. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but Sherlock had never allowed himself to touch you like this. The most touch you shared was when he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder during long train rides, even then he felt like he was playing with fire.

“He was good to me, I promise,” a small silence, “I did this to myself, with my own insecurities.”

“Am I… ordinary, Sherlock?”

The streetlights trickled through the curtains, illuminating the silhouette of you both holding back from indulging in your deepest desires. The image of you, gazing up at the cold detective with wide teary eyes, clinging to his word like he’s god reciting the bible directly to you. Him, his hands on either sides of your face, soothing you with his words, “You could never be ordinary, not even if you tried.”

Although your crying had ceased, his words broke the dam behind your y/e/c eyes. Your head fell into his chest and the sudden intimacy caused Sherlock tense up. He could feel you needing him, begging him to hold you just this once, to tell you that everything will be okay…and that he loves you so. He opened his mouth to protest the hug, only to be cut off by a small, “Please, just this once,” whispered into his chest.

Frozen in time, the gears in his brain began to short circuit. He was a sociopath, how could he feel like this? The two of you were never even meant to get this close. He could feel his defenses crumble. Every alarm inside his mind palace blaring. Emergency! Emergency! The void where his soul should lie was no longer empty. You’d fought your way past his defenses, seemingly effortlessly. He lived and breathed you. He burned for you, and only you. Your soul igniting him, Sherlock finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around your small figure tightly. His chin resting atop your head. He wouldn’t admit any of this aloud. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t say anything at all. This was enough for now, he’d just be here, with you, for you, in the moment.

[eggyboyoart]

Domestic Bliss

CW: Todoroki’s terrible cooking (I don’t care if he can cook in canon, this is MY WORLD and I’ll do whatever I want with him-), theres a lot of slang and meme talk, nose injury ig?? Todoroki wearing an apron and being domestic and cute :D, mentions of vomit, trying really heard not to gag or throw up, tears, being in mental/physical anguish bc of bad cooking.

WORD COUNT: approx. 1800 words, second person

Summary: You’re already having a shitty morning, what else could go wrong? ...Todoroki’s cooking, that’s what.

Good morning.

 Well, considering that you fell face first out of bed, good morning is probably inaccurate.

Your stomach rumbles as you stumble out of your dorm room, your eyes bleary, mind still fuzzy with sleep. and nose aching painfully from its sudden meeting with the floor.

You curse to yourself as you make your way to the dorm's kitchen, hoping that a warm breakfast (hopefully made by Bakugou) will make your morning somewhat better.

Your hand comes up to rub your throbbing nose as you shuffle into the dining space, seeing your beloved classmates. They all greet you with various degrees of enthusiasm and sleepiness.

You feel your mood brighten slightly as you see Mina peak her head around the corner of the kitchen and look at you.

You feel your mood suddenly drop when you see how awkward and sort of filled with dread? she looks.

You stop in your tracks as your pink haired friend pulls her head back behind the wall of the kitchen and whisper something incoherent. Oh God, what is she doing? You're not in the mood for silly goofy shenanigans right now.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion when she comes back out and walks toward you, slinging her arm around your shoulders and stretches out her words with a sleezy tone.

"Heeyy, my awesome, epic slay bestie. How are youu? Have a good morning so far?" Mina averts her eyes suspiciously as you stare her down for her strange behaviour. You sigh as you pout and rub your nose.

"Shit. It was shit, Mina. I fell off the bed and smacked my nose into the ground. God, I'm surprised it’s not bleeding” Mina cringes for a moment, looking very sorry for you as she leans in closer to whisper to you.

"Well, your morning is about to get a whole lot worse" She grimaces before explaining further.

"A special someone who is near and dear to your heart is cooking you breakfast," Your eyes widen for a moment and your heart flutters, quickly looking around to see if anyone is listening in before whispering out the name.

"Todoroki? is cooking me breakfast?" You look at Mina in disbelief as your thoughts run wild and your heart beats heavily in your chest. Todoroki? The love of your life and your future husband? (He doesn’t know it yet, but he is). He’s making you breakfast?

“That- That’s great! OMG, he’s solidifying his role as my house husband. Why would that make my morning worse?” You smile brightly, with a mood lifted so high, your nose doesn’t even hurt anymore. Mina looks at you for a moment, an unreadable look on her face. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before whispering.

“…the food that he’s making, it-… it looks alive. Its like, burnt but also raw at the same time?” Mina looks at you with an unpleasant look on her face. You let out a nervous chuckle and ask cautiously, your eyes narrowing and smile fading slightly.

“Oh. come on. Surely It can’t be that bad, right?” You let out a small chuckle again as you keep looking at her. The smile fades off your face as her face does not change from its dread-filled cringe. Mina’s eyes flicker to the kitchen behind you both. She slowly turns her gaze back to you. She bites her lip and shakes her head gently. Your face drops into a deadpan stare and you point your finger at her weakly.

“Say sike right now. Say sike, right. Now” Mina shakes her head more firmly as you vehemently deny the truth.

“He can’t cook for shit- “

“You’re lying- “

“I’m sorry, babe. No bi-coloured house husband for you- “

“SAY SIKE- “

“[Name], you’re awake.” Both your and Mina’s heads whip around to face the new voice. Todoroki stands there in a navy-blue apron with a dirty, batter-covered whisk in hand. The apron is covered in flour and what you assume is eggs? (at least, you hope) and his hair is slicked back with one of Mina’s ‘self-care’ headbands. You feel the air briefly leave your lungs as you take in how domestic he looks, with his cute little apron and messy, pulled back hair, his heterochromatic eyes looking at you so eagerly-

You also feel the air actually leave your lungs when Mina jabs her elbow into your ribs. You keel over and clutch the abused spot on your torso as Mina greets Todoroki.

“Heyy, ‘roki. I got [Name], just like you wanted. Though, class starts soon. We might not have time for breakfast.” Mina chuckles nervously as you give a weak nod in agreement. If Mina is trying to save you from this fate, then its most likely for good reason.

“oh” Todoroki looks down for a moment before speaking softly, “...I was really looking forward to seeing you try it…”.

…

Fuck good reason and fuck Mina.

“I’ll try it!” You chirp out, much to the delight of Todoroki and the absolute, unfathomable horror of Mina. Todoroki looks at you with eager eyes.

“Really? You’ll try it?” Todoroki takes a half step forward, looking at you with gentle enthusiasm. (as enthusiastic as Todoroki can get). You nod fearlessly, pointedly avoiding Mina’s petrified stare into the side of your head.

“Yeah, I bumped my nose, so I’ll have to go see recovery girl- I’ll be late anyway so I’ll try it, yeah” Todoroki nods in response and takes a few steps back and begins to turn away, back to presumably get the food you will be consuming.

“Take a seat at the table, I’ll bring it out to you”. You let out a ‘mhm’ in agreement and unashamedly avoid Mina’s gaze as you plop down into an empty seat at the dining table. Mina stares a hole into your head as you stare into the table, sweating at the intensity of her glare.

Todoroki comes back quickly and places a plate down in front of you and for a second, you feel nothing. Your expression is blank as you observe what is there.

…oh.

…Mina was right

It…

It looks… alive??

There are no words to describe the amalgamation on the plate before you. You gape, slack jawed and eyes wide at this… thing?? as Todoroki presents it and places it on the table in front of you.

You observe it, terrified, for a moment (why is it purple?), trying to figure out the best way to approach such a beast (WHY IS IT MOVING??).

From your peripherals, you see Mina staring at it too with her face turning more and more horrified as the seconds tick past.

You slowly turn your head to look at Todoroki, eyes wide as you take in his expression.

He looks so… excited.

Well, as excited as his usually stoic and blank expression can look.

He looks so, so eager for you to try this.

For you to like it.

…

…for you to like him.

…

Damn it…

You take a deep breath in, then suddenly, faster than anyone in the room can follow with their eyes, you scoop some of the ooze onto your fork and shove it into your mouth.

…

…

…oh

…

Oh.

Oh No.

Oh God.

You have never been more grateful to be in the hero course because it takes every ounce of strength in your entire body to not immediately throw up.

How is it wet AND dry at the same time??

Its vile.

You don’t even have a chance to even try and chew before it completely dissolves into liquid in your mouth. There are dry lumps of something? In it.

Its rancid.

Your eyes start watering as you take in the taste.

There are no words to describe it other than,

disgusting.

Pure, foul, putrid-

You turn your watery gaze to Todoroki, and he looks back. His eyes are wide with anticipation, and you hear his breath hitch quietly.

You take a deep inhale in (bad choice, you smell it now),

…

You force your face to go completely blank as you weakly lift a hand up.

A weak thumbs up.

…

…

His smile is almost enough for you to forget the taste of death.

The smallest, proud little grin splits across Todoroki’s face as he lets out a relieved sigh. He looks beautiful. His expression goes blank again as he coughs into his hand and speaks, a small, barely noticeable blush on his cheeks. Oh, that blush-

“I’m glad that you like it” He looks at you, with the same small smile and you almost feel like it was worth it. You nod stiffly, feeling as if the second you open your mouth, you will begin to projectile vomit. Your mouth twists into a painful grimace smile as you nod.

Todoroki keeps looking at you for a moment before one of Todoroki’s friends- Midoriya or Iida, you assume, you can’t hear well over the ringing in your ears from the sheer force of trying not to gag-

Todoroki turns his gaze back to you as you attempt to swallow (unsuccessfully). He looks at you with those gentle, beautiful eyes and asks softly.

“I’ll see you for afternoon classes, right? Maybe we can sit next to each other?” You nod stiffly again, unable to do anything but sit there, lest you begin to violently throw up.

He turns away and leaves with his group of friends.

 Your throat burns and your eyes follow Todoroki as he begins the walk to the school campus, friends in tow. Your eyes water as you just sit there, Mina standing over you with a horrified expression.

 You think back to the smile Todoroki gave you. A delicate, kind thing for you and you alone.

 Even though your nose still hurts like a bitch, and your taste buds are dying as we speak, your mood lightens ever so slightly and you don’t regret a thing.

 Despite how the morning started (with a face full of wooden floor) and how its just now ended (a mouthful of burnt, yet still undercooked 'breakfast' and tears forming in your eyes), your lips still twitch into a smile against your agonised, pained will.

 Mina comfortingly pats you on the shoulder as a single, pain-filled tear runs down your cheek.

 God damn, the things you do for love.

[matan4il]

Hi friend! I was wondering if you had any favorite Israeli/Hebrew children's books! Also any fave Israeli musicians??

Hello, my lovely! :D How are you?

Ooooh, do I! Man, you're gonna regret asking me this. XD Sorry, not sorry... So shall we start with Israeli/Hebrew kids' books?

Anything by Yehuda Atlas (יהודה אטלס), but especially And That Kid is Me (והילד הזה הוא אני). Short humorous stories, written in rhymes, perfectly capturing how baffling the world can be for a kid, and how silly adults can seem, or just what things can sometimes feel like for a child. It's one of those books that work, funny and essential, 'coz it's so true. He just gets kids.

Another one that I love, and am probably one of the few Israeli kids who even know this book, is Siamina and the Cats of Yemin Moshe (סיאמינה והחתולים של ימין משה) by Holocaust survivor Uri Orlev (אורי אורלב. He's more well known for his books about that period of time, which are also highly recommended, but I only dared read them when I was older). Jerusalem is known for its many stray cats, and the book is a love fest for cats and Jerusalem, with some historical sites becoming in the book the "homes" of the cats.

David Gershtein, who crafted the engravings for the book, is a pretty popular Israeli artist, and you can find some of his creations all over the country, and even entire shops dedicated to his works.

Last one ('coz I don't wanna burden you too much, but lemme know if you want more recs!) that I really loved as a kid, was Yael's House (הבית של יעל) by Miriam Rot (מרים רות). It was about a girl who has a home, but she wants a house that would be all her own. She tries all sorts of solutions, including taking over the space under the kitchen table... Not gonna lie, as a kid I was inspired to follow in her footsteps, but my parents were not impressed.

Now, as for Israeli musicians! You have stumbled onto dangerous ground, my friend, since I'm a music addict, and in love with the Hebrew language, so songs in Hebrew are something I can go on about for freaking years...

I'll share with you the link to two unlisted playlists that I made on YouTube. One is of some of my fave Israeli songs (though I started it years ago, so sadly, I see some vids have been deleted or made private, and there are literally hundreds of songs on the list, meaning I'm not sure which ones are missing), but also with a few thrown in 'coz I think they're good for people who wanna know Israeli culture and popular Israeli songs, and the other is one that I started making with songs connected in different ways to the current war we're in. They're not all faves, but I thought they capture a moment in time, so I wanted to have them grouped together. I'm actually not done with either list, the latter I really just started not that long ago, so you can expect them to grow.

If we're talking specific Israeli musicians, I find it hard to answer, I think almost every singer or songwriter has at least one good song to offer, and likewise whenever I wanna name one, I feel like adding, "Except for this song... and that one..." No musician is great all the time. But I guess some of my faves (where I like more songs than I don't) include Ivri Lider, Berry Sakharof, Yehuda Poliker, Ran Danker, Harel Ska'at, Chanan ben Ari, Narkis, Eliad, Amir Dadon, Avraham Tal, Marina Maximilian, Achinoam Nini (Noa), Sheila Ferber, Gilad Segev, Ofra Chaza, Meni Berger, Yardena Arazi, Natan Goshen, Keren Peles, Izhar Ashdot, Nurit Galron, and the bands Beit Ha'bubot, Ha'Yehudim, Metropolin, Ethnix, Mashina and Synergia.

I was thinking I should add at least one of these vids to my reply, and for whatever reason, the one that started playing itself in my head (where there is always music) was a song first released in 1993, אדמה חמה (Hot Earth) by Shlomo Gronich and the Shva Choir (Sheba is the English pronunciation of Shva). I love this song, I think the vid was very cool for its time, and I'm still never gonna forgive the MTV viewers who gave it last place in a video music awards. The song incorporates Hebrew and Amharic, both Semitic languages, the latter being the language spoken by Ethiopian Jews. You can actually listen to the whole special album (inspired by the story of the Ethiopian Jewish community's journey to Israel) here.

But just for the fun of throwing in a gay themed song as well, here's התשמע קולי (Will You Hear My Voice), a love poem for a man, originally written by an Israeli poet called Rachel (full name: Rachel Bluwstein Sela), but it's performed here by only men, and no one changed the pronouns, which makes it a mlm song to me. It's so pretty and sad (Rachel is believed to have written the poem to a former lover, a man she even thought at one point she would marry, but WWI tears them apart and they never meet again. She wrote this poem, after getting the news that she's terminally ill), it fills my soul at the same time as it tugs on my heart.

I hope this helps! Sending so much love! xoxox