#listen im not big into fashion

[foxstens]

black t-shirts i love u

[transfemgeorgecostanza]

A good recording of "I'll Build a Starway to Paradise" can go a loooong way

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

hi mac….. visiting u in ur inbox with a blorbo upd8….. qcellbit has gone missing and i am totally coping with it in a normal way he has been gone for almost three weeks now and I MISS HIM DEARLY!!! everyone on the qsmp got sent to hell in november and he still hasn’t returned i want him back :( he has people to eat and a husband to kiss and an ex-boyfriend/victim of cannibalism to torment and a son to reunite with but he cannot do that because he was maybe potentially blown up by a nuke. i miss him dearly!!!!

i would like to reiterate that i am absolutely coping with his absence in a totally normal and well adjusted way anyway i am going to pin up this missing poster in ur inbox and try not to froth at the mouth or start eating furniture

I HAVE SEEN UR MISSING QCELLBIT POSTS THEYRE SO FUNNY. IM SO SORRY UR CAT RAN AWAY I HOPE HE COMES BACK SOON...... have u tried leaving out a bowl of water or perhaps his favorite blanket or toy..... do not leave out a bowl of food bc that could attract other animals like raccoons which could potentially scare ur cat away.... i will keep my eyes peeled and give u a call IMMEDIATELY if i see him. i hope he has his rabies shots <3

[widevibratobitch]

im early for my doctors appointment so im just chilling on the bench outside. its a busy street so im listening to my special playlist for vibing on a loop (its just 3 songs), staring at people passing by and judging whose gender i want to steal the most. i need to do this more often this is great

[toytulini]

the fact that captain james flint from black sails, poorest little meow meow to ever walk this earth, was not even on the poor little meow meow vote is a almost a hate crime honestly

[a-love-poet-at-heart]

guy i have a crush on who works at my local comic book store gave me his number but he fucked up the second to last number so i cant tell if its a 0 or a 5 and when i texted both i got no response. Im going again to the store tomorrow since its batman day and im just gonna hand him my phone to put his number in it. But if i actually guessed the number right and he was purposely ignoring my text im gonna eviscerate him with my bare hands

[stinkrascal]

the concert was soooooo fun but im not gonna lie im so happy to be home with my sims :’)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

��i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[lexisecretaccx]

Smile for the picture - Matt Sturniolo

(Femreader x Matt Sturniolo, Smut, semi public, Photobooth sex, p in v, slight breeding kink, male receiving, hot asf, not proofread so apologies for spelling mistakes!)

Summary: Matt and Y/n find a Photobooth and go to take photos when it takes a steamy turn and things turn sexual..

As me and Matt walked through the quiet part of the mall, we came across an old fashioned photobooth, “let’s take photos in there!” I say excitedly, quickly dragging Matt to the Photobooth.

“Fine..” Matt sighs, and he pulls back the curtain of the Photobooth, there’s a cute little stool only big enough for one person, Matts face lights up only barely as he notices this, “I’m gonna have to sit on your lap, but that’s ok.” I smile to Matt as he sits down on the stool and I seat myself on his lap and pull the curtain shut.

I wiggle around to try get into a comfortable position to take photos, eliciting a soft groan from Matt. “You okay?” I look at him as his eyes are squeezed shut. “Yeah sorry let’s take a photo..” he breaths. I click the camera button as it snaps a photo of me and Matt, my hand holding his jaw as I pull a kiss face and he looks at me smiling for the picture.

“That’s so cute omg, we have 3 more we can take, I’m glad it lets us pick when to take it instead of taking so many in a row.” I ramble on as I lean forward to take a look at the screen.

I feel matts hands snaking their way up and down my sides until he rests them on my hips, gripping slightly. “Mhm, whatever you say baby.” He spoke, barely listening to what I was saying. “Are you paying attention to what I’m saying?” I ask him and give him a slight smirk but his eyebrows remain slightly lifted in the corners as he bites his lip softly.

“Are you turned on right now?” I lower my voice and speak in a surprised tone. “Fuck.. you gotta stop wriggling on my lap y/n it’s really fucking with me.” He whispers in my ear. I smile to myself, also having a slightly warm feeling between my thighs.

“What if we like.. fucked in here?” I whispered as I turned myself around on his lap to face him. His eyes widened as he looked between my eyes and my lips, “what really? we’re in public baby, you don’t like that stuff.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “Well I wanna try new things with you Matt, also it’s not that public, there’s like 20 people who come down this part daily.” I kiss his lips softly.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” Matt whispers before kissing just below my ear and sucking on the sweet spot, causing me to let out a soft moan and my wetness grows. “I love your pretty sounds baby.” He kisses down my neck until he’s at my collar bones, “did you wear this little dress just for this hm?” He spoke against my skin as he moved the strap of the dress slightly with his long fingers.

“I wore it for you, I know how much you love fucking me in it.” I whisper into his ears as I grip onto his shoulder with one hand and use the other to prod at the heat growing between my legs, trying to get at least some friction. “Fuck you’re a good girl.” He grabs the hand that I was using to touch my heat and flips me around so im now facing away from him.

“Stand up for me,” He smirks as I do as he says and he pulls his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion, revealing his long member springing up to his stomach. He pumps it a few times, throwing his head back as he does so, “can you..” he hints for me to give him a blowjob, as if asking me to suck his dick is rude or something.

“Yeah of course babe, I don’t have a hair tie or anything tho..” I say looking to my wrists for where I usually keep my hair ties.

“I’ll hold your hair for you,” he adjusts himself to be at a comfortable position for both me and him. I get down onto my knees and wrap my hand around his dick, “fuck your hands are cold.” He breaths out as he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail.

I plant small kisses on his tip as to tease him before taking it into my mouth and slowly taking it further before it hits the back of my throat, I start to suck faster and I look up at Matt through my lashes as he’s struggling to look at me because his eyes keep closing due to pleasure.

I place one hand on the stool he’s sat on and the other one on his thigh for stability, I feel his cock twitch inside of my mouth as his tip kisses the back of my throat and tears brew in my eyes from trying not to gag.

“Fuck I’m close..” he whispers in between soft whimpers and groans. I hum around him causing him to twitch even more before his grip on my hair tightens and he pushes my head down softly, causing me to gag.

That must’ve been the thing that tipped him over the edge because not long after he breathily said “I’m cumming baby..” and he released his hot white liquid down my throat, I removed my mouth from his member with a slight pop and I swallowed the last bits of cum in my mouth.

Matt say there breathing heavily as I quickly remembered we had 3 photos left so I clicked the photo button and got a picture of his worn out expression and the back of my head cropped off the bottom of the photo. Matts eyes widened when he realised that I had caught that on the camera and he lifted me up by under my arms quickly causing me to squeal softly.

He span me around to face the camera and pulled down my panties, before softly rubbing his finger around my arousal leaking out of my heat and licking his finger. “I’m gonna get a photo of you with my dick inside of you okay baby?” He lifted my dress slightly before pulling me down onto his cock, I let out a light moan as I sink onto his length, not being able to take it all fully inside of me. “Atta girl.”

He grips my hips tightly and bounces me up and down on him as I begin to moan loudly, one of his hands comes around to cover my mouth “as much as I love your noises baby, you need to keep it down..” Matt hushes me before placing his hand around my neck but not choking me.

As he continues to fuck up into me I feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head and matt lets out hard groans as I grip onto the wall in front of me and to the side of me for stability.

I feel myself clenching around him as his pace quickens and soft moans leave my lips, I start to feel my legs shaking slightly as the knot in my stomach is begging to be released, Matt kisses my shoulders softly whilst I bounce on his large member. “I know you’re close baby, release for me..” he says between moans.

I let myself go with a loud moan that I try to stifle by biting my lip but I fail miserably, I feel my body go limp and arousal dripping around his cock as Matt helps me through my orgasm, just as I’m at the peak of my pleasure, matt whispers into my ear “smile for the picture baby..” and I hear the Photobooth camera snap. I turn my head around to face Matt as he’s still slowly fucking into me,

His forehead sweaty and his hair messed up, with a grin plastered across his face, quickly interrupted by his orgasm reaching closer, “fuck I’m gonna cum again..” he whimpers slightly as his eyebrows knit together.

“I’m gonna fuck my kids up into you baby, okay?” He asks but I know he’s gonna do it anyway, I nod limply as I feel his hot cum shooting inside of me and Matt whines loudly, before leaning forward and taking another picture of us both fucked out and his head laying against my shoulder, kissing my collarbone softly, his dick still inside my walls.

“How many should we print?” I speak breathily, before slowly lifting myself off of his cock and holding on to the wall to keep myself steady as my legs are still slightly numb. “Print 4.. in case we lose a copy..” Matt says quietly, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Okay baby.” I pull my panties up from around my ankles and Matt stands up before pulling his sweatpants and boxers back up again. I print the photos and I hear them pop out from outside the curtain. I fix my hair and Matt fixes his as we open the curtain and stumble out, not really hiding what we were just doing in there.

I grab the photos and laugh softly when I see our faces, I hand all of the strips to Matt and he puts them in his pocket to keep safe. A middle aged woman walks past with her husband and she looks us up and down before her facial expression changes to that of disgust and she rolls her eyes, her husband oblivious.

I mean it is a sight, two young people stumbling out of a Photobooth with their clothes slightly messed up as one of them clings on to the other to stop her legs from giving out.

Matt wraps his arm around my waist to support me and we walk out of the mall.

“That was fun..” Matt smirks to me, “It was but it was so risky, and did you see the way that lady judged us?” I reply. “She’s just jealous her husband probably needs a pill to get turned on.” Matt laughs snarkily. I hit his chest lightly “you can’t say that Matt.” I laugh softly before kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m taking a picture of these strips and I’m setting it as my background.” Matt smiles while pulling two of the strips of photos out of his pocket and handing one to me so we can both hold one in the picture.

“I can’t believe you actually set that as your background, especially on your lock screen, what if Nick or Chris sees it?”

“I don’t care, plus they wouldn’t pay attention to what the photos actually are.”

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

A/n: Omg I love this, public sex is kinda hot honestly. Also idk why I love the idea of them taking the photographs during.. yk. Like it’s kinda hot also. I love doing one shots so please feel free to recommend something in my inbox, whether it be smut, fluff, or whatever! I love you all and thank you for getting over 800 notes on dont hold back❤️💋

Taglist: @kvtie444 @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard

[hysteria-things]

U SHOULD MAKE A SMUT W CHRIS OR MATT INSPIRED BY THE SONG CARNIVAL BY KANYE AND CARTIII

bonus!

CARNIVAL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s always a fun time at the carnival, but what happens when you and your boyfriend have a little too much fun at the top of the ferris wheel?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (male receiving), p in v, spit kink, choking, finger sucking, public sex

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,058

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i sincerely apologize if this sucks i struggled so hard on it for no reason😃

ib: @guccifrog you can check theirs out here :)

the giant teddy bear that chris won for you is held tightly under your arm. it’s almost as big as you for christ sake. usually, the carnival would freak you out because of the clowns and loads of people, but tonight was going rather smoothly.

he pointed to the ferris wheel, his hand gripping yours that isn’t holding a stuffed animal. “let’s do that.”

you groan. “chris, you know i don’t like heights.”

in boyfriend fashion, he ignores you and drags you to the growing line for the ferris wheel. you sigh, getting jittery as chris smiles like a fool beside you.

waiting very (im)patiently, it’s your guy’s turn to get on. you go first and he sits next to you, the worker locking the door and making sure the two of you are sealed in.

slowly, the ride starts going up, your heart becoming faster the closer it gets to the tippy top. this isn’t some small ferris wheel, it’s one of those big ones that are scary.

with your luck, you guys stop abruptly at the very top. the rocking of the passenger car doesn’t help with your jitteriness.

although, the view is breathtaking. people from below look like aunts as they walk around the concrete and grass. the stars and moon shine just above your head, mixing in with the rainbow flickering lights illuminating from the carnival rides.

voices and laughter flow around the air, and the sound of the carnival helps you relax. having fun with your boyfriend is the key for tonight, not getting anxious over a silly ride.

he admires the way you look right now, staring in awe at the action happening at all angles. scanning your body, he can’t help but think how good of an opportunity this is; being that nobody can see you.

you’re surprised when his lips press firmly on yours, moving in sync like he’s starving for your taste. you don’t stop him. instead, you pull him closer by the face.

both of your tongues swirl in each other’s mouths, saliva quickly coating your lips. moaning at the feeling, he pulls his head away to breathe. some spit is smeared on your chin.

he smirks. “get on your knees for me.”

your teeth are caught between your bottom lip with excitement, happily seating yourself on the ground. chris’ boner peeks through his pants. “well don’t just stare at it.” he mumbles, rolling his eyes.

you pull down his pants and underwear in one go, the way his dick springs out has your mouth watering for more.

starting to move your head to his tip, he grabs your hair to stop you. “spit.” he demands, and you look at him through your eyelashes.

you listen, spitting on him as he groans. “fuck yeah.”

he moves your head down his dick, gagging the further you go. once you’ve fit it in your mouth, he lets go and lets you bob your head.

each time you reach his tip, you smear more of your saliva to drive him insane. it’s sloppy, but it turns you on either way.

his chest heaves, groaning lowly when his dick twitches inside of your throat. the choking and gulping noises have him chuckling. “i’m— shit.” he pauses, rutting his hips upward. “i’m g-gonna cum down your throat, ma. you’d like that, yeah?”

you hum, the vibration shooting through his cock. he grabs your head once again and forces you to stay there when he cums. he bobs your head a little more to make sure you swallow all of it before pushing you so your lips aren’t around him anymore.

you waste no time to stumble to your feet, pulling down your bottoms until they’re in a pile with chris’. he cocks a brow at this.

straddling his lap, you align yourself with him while looking into his eyes with lust. “you have to be quiet. there’s still people on the ride, you know.” he teases, grabbing your hips to pull you down.

you moan loudly at the way he fills you, and he grabs your throat which causes you to stop immediately. “what did i just say?”

you pout, grinding your hips in desperation. “god.” he whispers, pulling you in to kiss you open-mouthed. you whine into the kiss, messily moving your lips on his as if this is the last kiss you’ll ever have.

“open your mouth.” he whispers against them, and you obey. “wider,” he says through gritted teeth, opening open as wide as you can go.

he spits on your tongue, shoving two fingers into your mouth, the three other ones still wrapped around your throat.

your hips now bounce up and down on his dick, rolling your eyes back at how fucking great it feels. your moans are muffled around his fingers, drool making a mess on his digits and the sides of your lips.

it doesn’t take long for his tip to reach your g-spot which has you moving at a more rapid speed.

he removes his fingers and drags them on your bottom lip, looking at how well you take him. either whimpers or high-pitched moans leave you. it gets so bad that chris now has to put his hand over your mouth. “shut up.”

“i-it feels so fucking good!” you whine in his hand. “cu-umming soon.”

because his hand covers your sounds more, you moan as loud as you can once your body starts to shake.

the whole upper half of your body leans back, chris having to hold you so you don’t fall.

he waits until you cum all over his cock to release inside you, slowing down the movements of your hips when he does so.

you collapse on his chest, but it doesn’t last long when the ferris wheel finally starts to move. in all honesty, you forgot you were still on the ride.

the both of you curse, gathering your clothes before the ride reaches the bottom.

when it does, the worker gives you a weird look before opening the door. you grab the bear that you placed across from you guys and walk down the ramp that leads to the ground.

you guys still look dazed, but try your best to hide it.

people may or may not have heard you, but one person saw you…

that poor teddy bear.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1

[popponn]

boyfriend hcs | isagi yoichi.

notes: im done pretending to be sane. "things and hcs about isagi yoichi" post because world hard and cold isagi yoichi soft and warm. this time, really mean it when saying no brain just isagi big love. please don't look at this too closely, other than that: no warning.

the "natural rizz" type who is honestly not really good at being purposefully suave. if he tries, it will either go boyfailure route or cute babygirl route. if he doesn't, it's a full package bf who will get your whole family & friends' approval.

at first, he tries really hard, but the moment you get him to calm down and kick the nervousness away, you will get: casual affection, unconditional support, a cuddly & clingy bf on weekends, etc.

looks at matching keychains once and the metavision is telling him it will be cute if you two have that.

he seems like the type who is not obvious when he is in love. at first. the moment his friends accidentally stumble upon your dates and see his smile, his smile is fooling no one.

somehow could make the most mundane unromantic activity cute as long he does it with you. accidentally. somehow.

when he starts dating you, his clothes will reflect your taste because: 1) he will shop for those clothes with you and ask for your opinion; 2) if you are a sane human with a bare minimum level of taste you should know his fashion sense level is in minus already—please do a favor to mankind and get him away from that neon orange trousers and bright green jumper; 3) he just wants to see you happy; 4) despite his humble look and usual demeanor, he likes showing off that he has you and you have him.

doesn't mean he can pick your clothes. do yourself a favor and think thrice or ten times if he suggests clothing or god forbid a mix match. love makes people dumb but it has to have a limit. your man is not trustworthy in the style department.

getting his parents' approval should be the least of your worries. his blue lock fellows and noel fucking noa should be your concern. good luck, high chance you have to verbally fight people like michael kaiser and barou shohei.

your phone is guaranteed to have at least 5 country clocks in it because yoichi is an international sensation. and when he is not busy practicing, you barely leave his mind at all.

it ranges from "oh, they will like this as a gift" to longingly gazing at his phone because while he is an understanding & secure attachment-style boyfriend, it doesn't mean he can bear with you not contacting him for three days. call your man. text him.

his favorite songs will be that cm song and whatever you often listen to around him—"it just sticks". his favorite movie will be totoro and your favorite movie. attachment and fond memories are the main driving force for his favorite stuff.

is pretty independent and self-sufficient that is not clingy most of the time. unless when he is sleepy. he hugs his pillow when he sleeps, now that he has you get ready.

if your main love language are acts of service and words of affirmation, it will be an instant match. "i do this for you, you do this for me" without any talking needs to be done, just like second nature. and he likes to be praised.

in case of quality time and physical touch, it will take some time to get used to, most probably. while he clearly enjoys time with his closest ones, isagi also enjoys his alone time and thinking time too. and he used to be a shy boy who doesn't share touches with people much. but believe in his adaptability, as long as the parties involved are willing to figure this out it will get figured out.

made a whole post about this once like a besotted fool, but is a really good listener who likes listening to you. it's like you "giving him a piece of you"—especially if it is a part of you that you don't share much.

please do listen and try to figure him out though. moving on soon and focusing on the present's solution is good but in some cases, it really might lead to what people call "pent-up emotions". isagi doesn't enjoy looking or being "weak", but really understanding the emotions he doesn't say out loud will benefit both of you in the long run.

keep the balance in everything—because isagi as understanding and adaptable as he is, still sometimes has a lapse in judgment.

before this gets into angst territory let's stop here. moving on.

is canonly described as poetic in one of exhib dialogues—which means this man is scientifically proven to be cheesy as hell.

sheepish, boyish, cute, sometimes nervous, very boy next door yes. but when he is in the moment, aka the romance flow is kicking, get ready for the most heartfelt, the most sincere profession of love under the sunset. an "i'm glad you are in my life", an "i will happily choose you again", etc.

learn to kick a soccer ball if you can't. 1) good for self-defense; 2) he sometimes brings the ball to sleep and if you don't want it, really think of it as self-defense. (not kidding, check his PWC sprite and that one sleeping anime official art merch)

at first gets bashful at pet names, but if someone makes fun of him—especially during a match—that's just asking for it.

remember his habit of being unable to say "no"? In a very loving manner, it comes back in full force with you. he will spoil the hell out of you even when you don't ask him to. what you want, isagi will get.

you have to be his #1 supporter. because he is yours. sometimes he can give advice and help for you, sometimes he can't. but if anything, he will always be there.

has a soft spot for you smiling while hugging something. in other words, while his gallery is full of your photo with plushies, animals, etc—the number of mirror selfies with the two of you hugging each other is enough to make anyone blink in astonishment.

if someone badmouths you or tries to harrass you, oresagi aka on field persona comes out without any hesitation. and while isagi's appearance doesn't come in the most intimidating form—we have seen him. hold him back, please.

even after everything, is honestly a pretty simple guy who thinks a simple breakfast with you worth much more than expensive dinners. home dates with him is always the coziest thing on earth, no matter whether under a sunny sky or rainy clouds.

when he is dedicated to you, he is dedication itself. certainly still have to do pr and fanservice when he meets some fans in the street, but before he leaves he will always squeeze your hand like asking for permission and he always does it with such efficiency that some of his friends wonder if he is trained to return as quickly as possible to your side. (yeah. isagi values efficiency and like how he wants a goal, he wants to enjoy his date with you.)

comfort hcs tho, when you feel insecure or down in some ways talk to him. he might pick up the bad mood but he isn't the type to try and overstep when you don't want to tell him. and as said before, he is a really good listener who is always there for you, so it will really do you good.

sometimes protest but he loves it when you play with his hair one way or another. ruffle it, pat it, style it—do as you wish. bonus if you are in front of him, in his lap, in the comfort of your shared abode. clingy isagi coming out again.

he hugs in the same way he kisses. they are long and heartfelt. one could use "passionate" to describe them, if it isn't for a certain chaste-esque mannerism that is almost always there.

the only time it is not is when the two of you are in private but because this is a family account. not going there.

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 17+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear your go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

[maybe-its-5sos]

Try again (Toshinori Yagi Smut)

Requested: no

Summary: You want to add another addition to the family, he’s unsure.

Word Count: 1695

Warning(s): Self-doubt, Smut

“So What I think doesn’t matter?” You question sitting down next to Yagi on the couch.

Tho you’d been with him for years and have 2 kids, he still occasionally gets into these strange thought patterns. Yes, his self esteem has been low ever since he lost use of his All Might form, but you thought that you having been with him for so long would be worth something.

“Of course it does, dear!” His eyes shoot towards yours, as if searching for something.

“Well then, listen to me, I married you because I love you, all of you. Furthermore I prefer you in your smaller form and I’ve told you as much as thousand times. I know it’s not easy, and I know you feel down, but you need to remember that people still love you no matter what!” You say, taking a sip of your tea, offering Toshi his own cup. He takes it, looking like he’s deep in thought.

“You’re right” he says looking at you again with a smile, but it seemed a bit hollow, like he didn’t truly believe it. You decided to not push the matter further for now as your 9 year old barges into the living room from his room. “ Dad! Look” he says excitedly, he had fashioned his blanket into a cape. You smile wiggling your eyebrows at your husband.

He goes to play with him and your 6 year old joins in, playing as a villain.

You thought the ruckus in your house would never stop as your family spent their day off playing heroes and villains and god whatever else came to their creative brilliant little minds. Your husband played along with all of it.

By the end of the night, the kids were so worn out, getting them to bed was a dream. They were sleeping pretty much the second their heads hit the pillow.

You were in your bedroom, getting ready for bed as Yagi joined you. “Hey, I wanna talk to you about something when you have a moment.” You tell your loving husband as you put on your baggy sleep shirt. “What’s on your mind, darling?” He inquired.

“ I want another kid.” You blurt out, looking away, worried about his reaction. A breath hitches in his throat causing him to cough. “Y/n, Im not sure that would be a good idea, the kids would have a pretty big age gap and I don’t know if I could keep up with another kid…” he says, nudging you to face him, putting a finger under your chin to lift it, getting you to look at him.

“I know… but I miss being pregnant” you trail off. “Why would you want another child with someone like me? When we had our boys I was still All might, I still had something to offer.” He confesses quietly. Doubts swirling in his mind. It was true, you had your youngest long before his quirk became nearly un usable. It always worried him, not being able to protect his family anymore, he also thought you would lose your interest in him. To his surprise you had stayed steadfast in your love and adoration for him.

You shoot him a glare, “I love you no matter what Toshi, You have so much more to offer than just being a hero and I still don’t care what form you’re in.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring peck. In all honesty, if you had the time and he had the energy, you’d have a gaggle of kids by now. You’d be jumping his bones at every and any opportunity. Sadly tho, with your family keeping both of you busy and his injuries hindering his sex drive, that hasn’t been a possibility.

“I don’t know” he says nervously. “Just think about it, even if the answer is no, I would appreciate you giving it a thought.” You tell him, looking at him with a slightly sad look. He caught it immediately but didn’t say anything about it, giving you a nod.

Getting in bed, you fall asleep tho a little restless, he on the other hand couldn’t sleep. Toshis thoughts were racing.

He wanted to give you want you want. He always had. But at the same time he was unsure if he could handle another kid. Yagi loves his boys and would do anything in his power for them. Could he have another?

Before he knew it, the blaring alarm, rays of sunshine and tussling from your side of the bed awoken him from a slumber he didn’t even realise he was in. He keeps his eyes shut, trying to get a little more sleep while you get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen.

Cheerful giggles fill your home and delightful smells of food tingle the nose. Toshi shuffles towards the kitchen, stopping when he sees you three. Playfully preparing breakfast. The youngest is holding the spatula, while the oldest is getting things out of the fridge to set on the table. You’re cutting up fruit as you giggle at your youngest making goofy faces.

They look so much like a younger version of their father. You always wonder where your genetics disappeared to.

The breakfast was delicious, even if Toshi couldn’t eat a whole lot and everyone was all giggles. Today was the end of the weekend, meaning the boys needed to clean up their rooms and do all their homework. And man does Yagi find it sexy when you go into teacher mode. You run a tight ship. The boys already know the routine.

Your husband’s heart flutters as he watches you help your oldest do his math as the youngest also listens tho he clearly doesn’t fully understand what you’re going on about. Maybe he truly does want another kid.

Getting back to the bedroom, the boys clean and in bed, getting ready to go to sleep yourself. Toshi comes out from the shower a beautiful wide sparkling smile on his face. “I think I’m okay with trying for another.”

“What?” You question, what he said not quite registering. “ I want another baby, unless you’ve changed your mind, dear” He explains, his smile slightly faltering. “Really?!” You whisper shriek. He nods, his smile even brighter than before, you swear that smile could make you melt if you looked at it long enough.

You smash your lips into his, pulling him into a passionate kiss as you pull him closer by the drawstrings on his pj pants. “Are you sure?” You say catching your breath. “Yes.” He chuckles. As you make your way towards your bed.

He gently pulls the shirt you just put on over your head, throwing it on the ground together with his pj pants. He’s already starting to pitch a tent in his underwear. He’s gently kissing down your neck as you gently play with his hair. He reaches your breasts, gently nuzzling one as he squeezes the other, a gentle hum escaping you.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n” he says, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He gently suckles on in, soon switching to the other. “ I wish we had time to do this more often” you murmur. He chuckles lowly, kissing down your abdomen, getting closer and closer to your core.

He gently nibbles on the soft supple skin of your inner thigh, earning a slight arch of the back from you.

He gently removes your panties, rubbing a finger in your folds. Soon his tongue follows. He’s eating you out like it’s his last supper, earning moans and groans from you, your hand stuck in his hair unable to contain your pleasure. You can feel a mile on his face as he gets you this riled up. He knows he can’t last as long as he used to, so he makes sure you feel as good as possible before the main act.

Euphoria hits you as your muscles clench, begging for a release. His tongue hits your clit perfectly, throwing you off of the cliff, bliss clouding your mind.

“ I need you” you moan, as Toshi gets back on top of you while you try to push his underwear off. He assists you revealing his massive member. Even after all these years, you’ve still never quite gotten used to it. Didn’t help that he was gone so often. “ I love you, y/n” he tells you as he’s lining himself up, giving you a deep, passionate kiss. It feels like he needs you, in a way that could never be described. It’s so loving yet needy.

“ Are you ready, sweetie?” He groans. “Yeah” you moan in anticipation. He gently pushes into you, giving you a bit of time to adjust. You roll your hips into him, signalling for him to move.

The thrusts are slow, deep and sweet. He’s making love to you like it’s the first time, no matter how many times you’ve been in this situation. He’s always just so sweet and caring. His hips roll into yours so naturally, like you’re made for each other. Youre both trying to keep it down, but it feels so good that some quiet groans escape both of you. Yagis pace quickening as his climax is getting closer.

You pull him closer, your nails gently grazing his back. He’s kissing your neck, sucking on the skin here and there but not hard enough to leave marks. Your becoming more and more breathless as you get closer to your second cumming.

His thrusts become jagged and less rhythmic as you feel him twitch in you. A few more thrusts later, you climax again, him following shortly after. He stays inside as his seed shoots into you, his breaths short and body being held up by just his elbows. Yagi shoots you a bright smile, kissing your cheek. “Hopefully that did the trick” he chuckles, slowly pulling out and laying down next to you.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that again,” you beam, sending him a wink, a deep blush gracing his cheeks.

“I love you, y/n”

“I love you too, Toshi”

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With love,

-K

[queenofcoquette]

how to be ‘that girl’ at school

hey loves! i want to talk about being that girl. what it means to be her and how you can be your best self while at school! im gonna give some academic tips, tips on putting out good energy, looking and feeling your best, etc!

how to prepare:

write down your goals for this school year and some things you want to do. since im going to a new school i’ve been thinking about how im going to introduce myself and things like that.

what are your academic goals?

what do you want to do differently this year?

what new thing can you try this year?

what can you improve on this year?

once you know the changes you want to make you need to think about how you’re going to implement these.

academic:

make to-do lists. always keep a calendar and a list of assignments to do, tests to study for, etc. stay up to date with what you need to do.

take notes while in class. always take notes, especially in math and science. in math i always write down formulas and things like that.

do practice outside of school (i use khan academy for math practice, quizlet and quizizz for memorizing for science)

get your work done right when it’s assigned. work on beating procrastination. keep to-do lists and when you have free-time just get your work out of the way.

energy:

take good care of yourself.

be observant. the people you surround yourself with not only subconsciously effect your behavior and your speech habits, but it can also effect whether or not you get into drama. to put it simply- observe how ppl act and if u get the sense that someone’s fake or dramatic, be cautious.

stay out of drama. this is a big one- don’t get involved. don’t tell gossipy ppl how you feel about things, don’t get in the middle of things you don’t need to. put your energy towards academics, sports, hobbies and real friends. i always listen to drama but never comment on it.

if you have a problem with someone- have a private conversation. a big thing is when you have a problem with someone try just talking to them about it, there’s always a chance that they’ll change. maybe they don’t know how they come across. always do that before gossiping.

appearance:

prioritize being healthy on the inside. always work on how you’re eating, drinking enough water, etc. work on your gut health, staying active and taking care of your body. when you do that you immediately look and feel better, because your body is working at it’s best!

just have good hygeine and be clean. so many ppl at school have poor hygeine and its just- disgusting. STAY CLEAN! brush and floss your teeth, wear deodorant, shower, take care of your skin and hair. 

have a good fragrance. this is just a fun one but having a good scent always attracts people. at school i used to get told i smelt really nice and ppl noticed that. (i also shave my arms and legs all the time and wear a ton of lotion so i got known for having “barbie arms”)

wear whatevers comfortable and what YOU like. wear what feels good and what you’re comfortable with. school’s not a fashion show so if you don’t want to dress up you don’t have to, but it’s nice to put a little bit of effort into your look, making sure you look clean and just orderly. im probably picky about this cuz i went to a military school but it’s good to just look a little proper.

overall:

just define what being that girl means to you. for me it’s being my best- being healthy, active, getting good grades and just being kind. find who you want to be and work towards that. remember, progress isn’t linear, and learn from your mistakes. im sure this school year we’ll all learn so many lessons and grow a ton as people! always be open minded to change and observe. you’re already that girl, you just need to take care of yourself and have good habits.

[coughloop]

Twilight: she likes to think of herself as the most sophisticated stoner and she loved to smoke before reading a long letter or writing analytic prose about the migration patterns of different seabirds. I think she would smoke a long pipe, hand crafted made of wood that Celestia gave tk her as a parting gift when she moved to ponyville. It kinda sucks and it's basically just a spoon pipe but long and made of crystal wood that doesn't do anything but when you smoke through it it sparkles and shines so she loves and takes good care of it only buys top shelf premium ounces to smoke through it cause she thinks that what Celestia had in mind when she gave it to her

Pinkie pie: do to her insane tolerance after years of edible usage pinkie basically starts every day by eating 10 or so 20ng edibles and she doesn't even feel it but it's like a delicious treat and she basically just macro doses edibles all day long and it tastes so good she loves the taste of weed she loves it

Rarity: she is always changing up with whatever she's smoking out of. she has a room where she predicts the current trend of whats hot to use and whats not and is always following the latest designer smoking fashions but secretly her favourite is gravity bong but she would never admit and she hides it away behind like a million aromas and perfumes but believe me she has one terrible homemade gravity bong she loves more than anything in the world

Fluttershy: her animal friends use their more dexterous paws and prehensile tails to roll little joints for her and she smokes them like cigarettes she never litters the filters though she is very careful to never ash anywhere but directly into her tray and smokes on the roof outside so the smoke cant harm anything she lets Angel take a hit thoough cause he can handle it but he always hogs cause hes a jerk and im getting mad thinking about it

applejack: as grassroots as possible, simple ground herb smoked out oof whatevers available. granny taught her how to pack a bowl with apple seeds mixed in to give it an extra kick and she and big mac chill the fuck ouot every night with a rustic bong made of aluminum with lead paint on the outside but those dont have negative affects for horses so its fine and she lives a long and healthy life like all smokas should

rainbow dash: shes been buying straight oregano for years and still has no idea. she doesnt listen when anyone tries to tell her

[arcielee]

A love that burns.

Summary: Aemond is a man obsessed and you are the object of his unwavering devotion. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1037 Warnings: Canon book Aemond, manipulation?, sexual themes, oral (female receiving), p in v, absolute depravity and murder. Author’s Note: This is a reader insert, but with the third person perspective, it is a bit Alys-coded kind of? (I rewrote one of her lines in F&B) A big thank you to @bhxrdy and @itbmojojoejo helping me fix some mistakes and for helping me choose the title 💜🦝 This story is dedicated to the wonderful, the talented @aegonx who gave me prompt #371 by @creativepromptsforwriting. She also made my nifty banner for my blog, so I owe her everything. I am always happy to attempt any requests, I just cannot promise a timely fashion, as it is more whenever the muse strikes. Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @sylas-the-grim @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9

He was a dragon incarnate with the blood of Old Valyria knitted within the ichor that coursed through his veins. Aemond was proud, tall and lithe, his broad shoulders held back despite the burdened weight of his reputation that preceded him–Aemond the One-Eye, Aemond the Kinslayer, but those utterances only rolled like rain against the scales of Vhagar; he was unbothered, unharried, especially now his role within the kingdom elated with the title Prince Regent, and with it the Conqueror’s Crown to wear. 

The metal and rubies held a weight that now grounded him, reminding him of his purpose, and he went to reclaim Harrenhal with the intent of killing every Strong bastard. 

Here is where he had found her, an eerie calm amongst the chaos, silent despite the cries of mercy as each person was brought to the courtyard and slain. She had watched, unblinking, with an expression that was akin to when Aemond had watched his nuncle take the head of Vaemond Velaryon in the Throne Room a year prior; it had been a moment that kindled a bloodlust that thrummed beneath his skin, a vengeance that could not be forgotten. 

That night, when she was brought to his quarters, she greeted him like an old lover, a sweet kiss pressed to his lips, her soft murmur, “I have been waiting for you, my prince.” 

She came from a noble house without the wealth of Westeros, but revered still and old, old enough to carry the blood of the First Men and its mystical properties. She had followed her sister to Harrenhal when she was chosen to be the next wife for Ser Simon Strong.

Both were now dead and she did not seem to care. 

“Then why did you choose to accompany your sister?” Aemond had asked her after; it was that intimate exchange shared in their bared embrace, nestled on sex soaked linens with her plush thighs serving as a pillow.

Her fingers thread through his silver hair. “The Isle of Faces,” and she smiled, as if she were stating the obvious; she leaned forward to give a chaste kiss to his lips. “I came to listen to the whispers of the weirwoods.” 

Behind closed doors he was intoxicated by her proximity, with an unbridled lust that replaced the blood in his veins, as if she were the very embodiment of his siren call. They fell into one another, and he felt something that burned within him, something that perhaps was always there and only now  ignited by her soft touch, by her gentle pull that brought him flushed against her chest. 

Aemond would worship her through the night, drinking her very essence until the brim of her overstimulation, until he saw her lashes clumped together from her unshed tears, and only then would he shift his weight between her thighs, flushed and slick from her peaks. 

He would move to press his heady cock, heavy and wanting, against her silken folds, and despite their many nights together, she would still feel split open, aware of the ridges and the veins of his thick member as he sheathed within. Her soft gasps came in response to his thrusts that would begin again the crests of ravishment that warmed her blood; and he would not stop his pace until she was a mewling mess, until the lewd sounds of skin to skin mixed with her cries of release, until his name was a repeated reverent prayer that spilled from her lips. 

Aemond hummed her praises, his hot exhale against the curve of her neck. “The gods made you for me alone,” he would breathe against her lips and they would part in a silent cry, her skin pebbling with pleasure. “You were made to take my cock, and you do so well.” 

His words brought her to the precipice and when she felt his hot pulse within her velvet walls, her own clenched in response to chase another climax with boneless ambition, with a sobbed release as the air tore from her lungs but she was breathless to reclaim. Only then would they curl into each other’s arms, their skin aglow with the intimacy shared, with the soft murmurs and quiet exchanges of lovers in their post-coital haze.

“I will have your son,” she promised him. “I can already feel the flames warming my womb.” 

She was always at his side, devoted, everpresent, with a severe gaze that served as a balm for the Prince Regent in the most twisted way. They called her his Blood Queen as she seemed to encourage a sadism that pulsed beneath, speaking that the gods knew what had to be done and that he was the vessel of their actions, always encouraging him to listen to the beckon of the blood of Old Valyria. 

Aemond became a man obsessed and she fed into his depravity; she spoke with such conviction and he believed her every word, her every prophecy. When she would take a boat across the waters, he would remain on the shore pacing like an animal caged, while Vhagar roared overhead, the wind beneath her wings causing turbulent waves that crashed against the lakeside. 

She returned as her namesake with blood that covered her hands and her dress; she would whisper what she saw to him alone, of what was to come and what needed to be done. On one such day, she spoke of the betrayal in the Riverlands, of those who had chosen to ally with the Blacks and their false queen. 

Aemond called for Vhagar and they climbed aback; she was knitted against his backside with her cheek pressed between his shoulder blades, and she could feel his rumbled command, “Dracarys,” to rain fire below them, scorching the very earth. She hummed her contentment, the scent of sandalwood and smoke, a scent that intimately belonged to the Prince Regent. 

Her arms curled around his slim waist and he looked down to see her small hand pressed against his chest. Though the histories would recall all the ugly things they had done, in this moment, as his palm reached to cover hers, all he thought was how their entwined fingers were so beautiful together. 

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