#well I think we should all go insane about the fic and make it more popular.

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

SUDSPOTS RECOMMENDS DREAM-CENTRIC FICS: PART ONE MAYBE

Sorted by shipping because I'm a multishipper.

Its about the PASSION its about the INTRICACIES its about the EMOTIONAL DEVASTATION.

If a fic you like isn't on here I demand you make your own recommendations post so I can reblog it and then we ALL must go insane. You Understand? You understand. Lets fucking go, lets LOVE THE PEOPLE IN THIS COMMUNITY RIGHT NOW AND TELL THEM WHAT GOOD FUCKING WRITERS THEY ARE

DESCEND INTO MADNESS. ITS FOR THE GREATER GOOD.

DRUNZ WORKS BELOW

-non-explicit fics section-

our eternal love by janies_not_here. (Rated T)

Punz and Dream being in love and their last few moments together before the destruction of the server.

Personal thoughts: I love them. I would die for them. I care them so much.

Suffering by Airrec (Raichett). (Rated T)

“I,” Punz repeats, “am doing this one. You did lung removal, I’ll do heart.” They look at Dream squarely, determined, though their eyes are tight around the edges. No one likes dying, but they both know how important it is to know.

Personal thoughts: how to murder me emotionally. Its about the Intricacies its about the Unethical Science Murder Experiments.

science for sweethearts by silversandstone. (Rated T)

“His name is Punz?” “Yeah.” “I know him!” Sapnap exclaims, and he sounds entirely too excited for Dream’s liking. “He’s on the basketball team with me. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes? Looks a little bit like he got thrown in the laundry by accident?” “He’s pretty,” Dream agrees miserably.

Personal thoughts: I am always a slut for modern AUs. I am bapping them with my little paws. Please kiss.

with arms unfolding by silversandstone. (Rated T) (series)

but here i am with arms unfolding i guess it isn't quite the end old partner in crime i'm going to try to fall in love with you again

Personal thoughts: PUNZ FINDING OUT ABOUT THE TORTURE. YESGOODPERFECT. THEM CARING ABOUT EACH OTHER. AAAAA

c!drunz living happily ever after by theendpoem. (Rated T) (series)

c!drunz headcanon written into short stories that follow them running away from the smp together and living happily ever after in a cabin

Personal thoughts: exactly what it says on the tin. I am a feral cat biting it biting it biting it

deadlines and commitments by sunnyscribe. (Rated G)

Dream doesn't know what he's looking for, but he finds it in Punz.

Personal thoughts: please imagine that gif of kermit spinning in a water fountain. They're taking a little nap together. They are in love.

i hope i don’t murder me, i hope i don’t burden you by nightdaydream. (Rated T)

Dream is dangerous, an enigma of a man. “So, what do you say?” Roses bloom in Punz’s lungs. They take a breath, choke them down, and return the grin that they’re sure Dream wears beneath his mask. “I’m in.” aka. punz suffers through hanahaki. it gets a lot worse before it gets better.

Personal notes: FUCK OFFFFFFFFF<=== is personally very emotional. Don't perceive me.

by his side where he belongs by ammizukii. (Rated T)

c!Dream shyfully proposes to c!Punz.

Personal notes: oh.

Just A Dip by Icechild. (Rated G)

It was meant to be just be a bath. It was supposed to be refreshing, healing, calming. It wasn't supposed to be Punz watching Dream pant and groan in pain. It wasn't supposed to end up with them realizing a blade was poisoned after it was too late. OR Punz and Dream have a bath time after a fight with the SMP and take care of each other and things go a little south.

Personal notes: I am eating concrete. I am throwing things. ITS ABOUT THE TRUST AND LOVE AND FEAR AND

love, like death, hath all destroyed by dumbgirlfriend (thelightwoods). (Rated T)

Punz and Dream have a quiet last meal before the end of the world, and Punz wants him.

Personal notes: dies a death (x40) hahahaha I love them what the fuck...

Steam by Airrec (Raichett). (Rated T)

There’s something almost ritualistic in the way Punz lathers soap onto Dream’s skin, their touch gentle but firm as they thumb at his flesh, their clipped nails dragging a little across his too-thin skin, careful not to worry at scabs or sores, but touching them anyway, keeping them clean. --- Or: post-Pandora, Dream's physical state is a bit too fragile for him to be able to bathe alone. Enter, stage left, Punz.

Personal notes: you think I'm normal right now but I'm actually clawing at the bars of my cage. Let me out I won't bite.

red slush and citrus shampoo by shamefulfroggos. (Rated T)

“Okay.” The two sit in silence for a few more beats before Punz drops his hand down to twist the keys and coax the engine back to life. It rumbles, faintly, and Dream watches from the corner of his eye as Punz puts the car in reverse and brings his arm up, his hand gripping the shoulder of Dream’s seat. His head turns so he can look through the back window as he pulls the car out of the parking space he turned into mere minutes ago. Dream tries not to stare. He doesn’t try very hard. -------------- or Dream has been in love with Punz for too long, Sapnap and George are tired of his shit, and Punz is a cinnamon roll who is trying to convey his feelings but failing

Personal notes: hnnnnnnn I'm gonna be honest with you I reread these fics before I put them on this post and this is making me go insane. They're so fucking in love shut the fuck upp

Not to Me, Not If It’s You by ranababamboo. (Rated T)

“Stop fussing over me.” “I will when your fever breaks,” they replied. They gestured to the stew, untouched aside from the near-spill. “Should eat that before it goes cold.” Dream rolled his eyes at the nagging. “What, gonna sit here and watch me until I do?” Punz merely raised an eyebrow. “...you’re the worst.” ——— Stubborn refusal of injury won’t slide in this household.

Personal notes: I hate them (I love them so much I am actively dying)

even when it’s raining by navyhurricane. (Rated T)

“You want to dance—” “In the rain,” Punz finishes for him, almost in a rush as though the idea has him breathless already. “C’mon, you can’t say that you have never in your life thought of it before.” Dream shakes his head softly. “Can’t say it’s high on my bucket list.”

For ruined plans and an opportunity saved, Dream has never known a love as soft as this; he knows that while he needs Punz, the other wants him in all the same ways.

Personal notes: hey do you ever feel like the chemicals in your brain just fucking change and shit while you read something because its good.

i wish to reclaim the rising by Airrec (Raichett). (Rated T)

Dream is quite happy with his life, despite his lack of memories, the scars and frailties of his body, and the numerous questions both raise. Then Punz, one of the gods of this world, saves his life, and it becomes clear that there is more to this - to them - than what can be seen on the surface. --- Or: it's a whole new world, and everyone deserves a chance to move on and make the most of the future. Punz has been waiting for theirs for... a long time.

Personal notes: I really wish I could just post memes and images instead of typing because I don't know how to communicate to you the level of Feral I am rn.

i miss the way you made me feel by WinterEnchantress. (Rated G)

Technoblade broke them up because duty always comes first, and he knows that the pain will never lessen, but at least he had the certainty that Dream was also...suffering. Because he's a selfish and petty man, deep inside, and he doesn't want to be lonely in his pain. Up until Dream found someone else. Up until Dream starts to heal, and all Techno can do is watch from the sidelines as Punz carefully puts broken pieces back together. All he has left is regret. or sad techno and broken up dnb + punz/dream being sweet as techno pines and suffers (:

Personal notes: !!!!!!! well thats fucked up and sad. fuck yeah lets go !!!!!!!

starshine after the longest night by voidofthestars. (Rated T)

They say almost, because there's so much missing from him, from weight loss from starvation to blatant mutilation, ears slashed and even tagged. And gods knew what else lies beneath his torn and ragged clothes. The moment Dream collapses into their arms and they close around him he keens, low and hurt like a dying animal in a cage. It's all Punz can do to keep them both upright even as Dream shakes in his arms, damaged hands scrabbling across his back and shoulders like he was afraid Punz wasn't actually there. "Holy shit, starshine, I've got you, you can't drop on me yet we're not safe yet." "Punz! Punz you're actually here! Haha, oh my god, I can't believe it!" Dream's voice cracks from emotion and disuse. It's painful to listen to, in more ways than one.

Personal notes: Don't fucking look at me don't perceive me I don't want to talk about it.

last cup of coffee by Luciddreaming_ (LucidDreamLight). (Rated T)

Local barista crushing on the cute college boy.

Personal notes: I don't have braincells anymore. Only them.

or should i walk by again? by Anonymous. (Rated T)

After Sapnap accidentally triple-books himself, he leaves his friends Dream and Punz to entertain each other at a boardwalk. This quickly spirals into a bet: Can you fall in love in one day?

Personal notes: what if... they kissed<=== absolutely deranged

green strings of magic by nightdaydream. (Rated M)

“You just work with him for money,” Quackity states, looking at Punz, and they want to laugh at how wrong the statement is. At first, sure; Dream was their client, and they were a mercenary. But as time passed, and they got closer, they came to trust Dream. And eventually, the golden ring on their finger and the matching one on the chain around Dream’s neck, hidden below his hoodie, came into play. “So, if he’s dead, which everyone else here wants anyways, you have no reason to carry out what he wants.” aka. Dream gets killed. Punz brings him back, because they’re a good partner like that.

Personal notes: they're MARRIED they have RINGS what if I shed my skin and became a skeleton.

Keep it Together by orphan_account (Rated T)

/Don’t react. Don’t react. Stay calm. Stick to the plan./ They spent hours, standing on a grassy hill, staring at the prison. /Keep it together./

Personal notes: His One Attachment his Most Important Attachment Shut The FUck

sunlight through my window by oopsie_daisyy (Rated G)

Dream and Punz are comfortable enough together to just walk into each other’s room and be. But when Dream asks him an unfinished question, Punz can’t get the implications of it off of his mind.

Personal notes: biting my own arm. Themb!!!!!! Them,,,,,

Bunker Pasta by dyinginlava (probablyaceok). (Rated T)

When Punz meets Dream after he escapes from Pandora’s Vault he notices how bad Dream looks and makes a decision.

Personal notes: They love each other did you know that. did you know. they love each other so much

Ground Zero by Oceanbreeze7. (Unrated)

Canon Divergence- what if the entire confrontation went a little faster- and they all had time to leave before the nuke impacted?

Personal notes: its barely there, but Its There and its important To Me.

Even Now by TastesLikeBakingSoda (Rated G)

Punz tries to coax Dream to bed, post-prison.

Personal notes:..........

lets take a rest by TastesLikeBakingSoda (Rated G)

Dream comes home after fighting the slime clone army and Punz gives him tickles and kisses

Personal notes: I'm being persecuted, held at gunpoint even.

-EXPLICIT FICS-

forever and always by applpudding

Dream slips his hands from Punz’s grasp and slides one around the cradle the back of his head. “Punz. Look at me.” The softness of his voice coaxes Punz’s eyes open and oh. He’d forgotten how stunning Dream’s eyes are in the daylight, brilliant viridian irises shining bright and honest, settled between soft golden eyelashes. “I don’t know if I can say it back yet,” Dream says, and for a moment Punz feels his heart sink. “But,” Dream continues, “that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do, I really do, I promise you that.” Punz leans forwards and knocks their foreheads together. “I’ll wait,” he whispers. “However long you need, I’ll wait."

Personal notes: they need to be happy its so fucking important to me

radio lust by navyhurricane

A messy turn of events leaves Dream without a car in the middle of a rainstorm. He knows Punz is made of nicotine and bad ideas, but Dream's curiosity over Punz’s passenger seat is addicting.

Personal notes: hi they are absolutely infatuated with each other. they told me so themselves.

losing the bet by Anonymous

“Oh, I see. You wanted to lose,” Punz said in a low voice, dropping in volume, and Dream’s breath hitched in his throat. “You made that bet assuming you’d lose, huh? You wanna be my bitch that badly?” “Fuck no,” Dream spat back even as his eyes locked onto Punz’s lips. They looked surprisingly soft, pink. Dream swallowed hard. “I’m just a man of my word. I promised you, you win, you use me as you want.” “Just seems like an odd thing to offer to someone you’re not attracted to at all.” Punz stepped closed again, practically chest to chest, and he grabbed Dream by the jaw. His grip was tight, practically bruising, and he pushed Dream’s head back against the lockers. “Deny it all you want, but I think you wanted to end up here. You liked the thought of mean ol’ Punz shoving you into the lockers, huh? You want me to fuck you right here?” Dream whined, unable to speak with the hand clamping his jaw shut, and Punz huffed a snort of amusement. “You’re cute when you’re pathetic, princess,” Punz purred.

Personal notes: shaking them. they are stupid and full of kink. I cherish them deeply.

Observant by Toasted_Poison

Dream and Punz are roommates and Dream is very observant of Punz's recent behavior.

Personal notes: the comment I left on this fic probably shows how insane I am more than any words I could type here.

if you’re the reason why it’s empty, spin the fucking bottle by oopsie_daisyy

"I was about to leave when you asked me to play spin the bottle, actually,” Dream explains with a knowing smile, one that Punz reciprocates easily. “But yeah, it’s fine. Just a regular boring party, nothing too special.” “I could make it special.” Dream rolls his eyes. “I know you can. Why else do you think I would stay at some shitty party?"

Personal notes: RAAAAA WHY ARE THEY SO DUMB I CANT FUCKING STAND THEM (is holding them so very closely)

Shatter you by Anonymous

The payment is given. The plan should start any minute now. Punz wouldn't say he'd changed his mind. He never truly agreed with this plan anyway. It's good that Dream is in a good spot for listening. Alternatively: Punz is an Ender Dragon hybrid who likes gold but likes his shiny employer better so he decides to keep him. Dream's a brat and needs to be taught his place.

Personal notes: go away leave me be. I have to be really abnormal about Ender Dragon Punz. (you hear the sound of someone eating paper)

A Goat & A Coyote by ConscientiousMonster, Melpomene_Muse_of_Tragedy

A coyote pack leader finds a goat spellcaster that's been tied up in ribbons and left for death by vultures. This is furry-flavoured Drunz porn.

Personal notes: I'm not a furry but five dollars is five dollars<===this is a reference. I'm actually probably a furry.

Without End by JanetBaby99

“We’re equals aren’t we? You and me no matter what,” Punz assures. “You don’t control me and I don’t control you.” Dream lets his words wash over him, taking them in and analyzing each one. … Even after all of this, seeing how weak Dream has become, seeing how he’s fallen, Punz still sees him as an equal on this godforsaken server. ___________________ After Dream escapes Pandora's Vault, he goes to Punz who helps him through the worst of his injuries, and assures Dream that he would love him no matter what.

Personal notes: HNNNNNNNNNNNNNN THEY ARE IN LOVE,,,, THE ANGST CAN'T DEFEAT THEM,,,

all your ivory glory by eleostomercy

“You’re a cockslut.” Dream’s eyes flick up. He’s sure he makes quite the sight, knelt at Punz’s feet, knelt over a baby blue dildo, and dripping between his thighs with a hand on Punz’s cock. “What about it?” or, where dream has an idea and a need to be between punz's legs.

Personal notes: clapping and cheering and blowing the building up because its what they deserve.

twisted on my tongue by eleostomercy

I know what a sex machine is,” Punz mutters, unsteady on his feet as he rights himself by the refrigerator; the revelation is surprising, sure, but his own astonishment at Dream’s hidden possession is nearly gone. “I just didn’t think that—” “What?” Dream’s embarrassment has melted away by now, and it leaves in its place a sharp grin and gleaming eyes. “Didn’t think I would own one?” or, where dream reveals a well-kept secret and punz decides to give it his own gleaming review.

Personal notes: hey did you know that they're in love. Did you know that I'm throwing shit and maiming because they are in love.

their hungry thirsty roots by consumptive_sphinx

Punz, somewhere above him, sighs, and then there’s a flowering vine in his face and he can’t fucking breathe. His knees hit the ground again and this time Punz wraps an arm around his chest and doesn’t let go, combs through his hair with their fingers while he coughs until his eyes water. “Sorry, man,” they say, and “I know,” and “it’s alright.” Something’s fucking happening while he coughs and Dream doesn’t like drugs under the best of circumstances— they make him slow, they make him stupid, they make him off his game and he can’t be off his game— but the alarm is leeching away. It’s like trying to cling to water. By the time he can breathe again his legs feel too weak to move on.

Personal notes: hnnnn Egg fics.... my one (1) weakness....

pleasure in death by bugginmate

“Here’s how this is gonna work, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing Dream’s too long hair out of his face. “You’re going to do what I say. I’m gonna get you all worked up and begging for me. Then when- or if- I decide to let you feel good, I am going to kill you. Do you understand?” Dream and Punz are brainstorming ways to die for their limbo research.

Personal notes: two bros, chilling in their lab, fucking around against OSHA regulations.

Scour and Scorch by FraustiButBad (FraustiNoSnowman)

“Is everything about numbers to you?” He retorts. It’s a weak one, at that, not because it doesn’t mean anything to Punz, but because both of them know that it’s almost a hundred percent true, and Punz is proud of that fact. “Yes,” the lighter blonde admits. His thumb rests on the front of Dream’s chin, and he pulls Dream’s head down to eye level; Dream has to grip the table for him to not punch Punz in the face, or throw on his jacket and leave. “It’s all numbers to me. And where does that take me, sweetheart?” Punz does everything for numbers. • Dream and Punz, musicians, classmates, enemies, friends with benefits, are everything that could be set fire to.

Personal notes: the unreliable narrator that is Dream. also kink. peoples two favorite things.

Red Sweater by Typical_Kiwi

Punz really has to go to work and Dream's making it exceedingly difficult. (Punz isn't blameless.)

Personal notes: THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. SO MUCH. SHUT UPPPPPPP

Home for the Holidays by Toasted_Poison

"So, where am I sleeping?” Dream asked, looking around the large room, the couch did look quite comfortable. Punz shook his head, opening his suitcase to unpack, “Are you playing dumb? In bed with me.” “Oh! Are we going to explore each other's bodies?” Dream teased. The dirty blond kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, placing it on the couch before his gloves joined it. He didn’t expect an answer from Punz, who was staring down at a blue shirt in his hands before looking up and smiling at Dream with a cock of his eyebrow. “If you’d like."

Personal notes: (you see an image of goofy floating in a fountain)

Play To Win by angeIofsmalldeath

He likes his roommate, he really does. All things aside, they’re relatively close and spend a decent amount of time together. Punz keeps his space neat, they split dish duty, and his rent is always on time. He’s not a bad roommate in the slightest. That does not change the fact that this is not the first time Dream has found himself incredibly annoyed on behalf of Punz and his stupid video game. Dream is sick of his roommate playing video games loudly all night long. So, they make a bet.

Personal notes: Listen. Listen. Listen. Actually Don't listen. Have you considered the benefits of shedding your skin and becoming a skeleton

i'll be unclean, i'll be obscene (you be the rest) by staged

“I wanna choke you.” Punz leans down to say in Dream’s ear, dragging his teeth against the lobe and pressing a wet kiss to his jaw. “Do it.” Dream pleads, rocking back on a harsh thrust. His eyes flutter, meeting Punz’s gaze with a forest of vulnerability, thick with desperate want. “What if I kill you?” Punz mouths down Dream’s neck, licking around the space between his fingers. It’s spoken like a suggestion, a sadistic fantasy that they want to play out. “Then bring me back.”

Personal notes: Theyre so wonderfully fucked up I would Die for them.

I miss ya, and our rendezvous by froghatter

Five times Punz and Dream made bets together and only once does Dream lose.

Personal notes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Transactional Satisfaction by TastesLikeBakingSoda

Punz takes his payment.

Personal notes: Don't look at me go away.

candy games by Royal_Stars

Dream wants to play a game. Punz obliges. Why wouldn't they, when they get kisses out of it? It leads to a bit more than the two of them bargained for, but hey, neither of them are really complaining.

Personal notes: I am slowly sliding them both together. then they kiss. then they kiss. then they

but the damage has been done by Anonymous

After weeks upon weeks of exhaustive experimentation on the nature of life, death, and revival, Punz and Dream are both tired. One of them was bound to break. But Punz is not going to let it be Dream.

Personal notes: they are full of mental illness and so am I.

Sublime by cosmicskies

Punz will make him food. He knows what Dream needs right now. Soft touches and to be showered in attention even though he scowls and tries to send the other away every time. During the moments where Dream can think without being shouted at by his own mind, he’ll tell Punz about the things he wishes he didn’t think. How sometimes, asking to be held is the scariest thing of them all. But they’re both touchy people.

Personal notes: (you hear explosions in the distance)

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[saerins]

°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

[slaybestieslay946]

Oh me gosh can you please do a Luke Castellan x reader fic where he’s just so head over heels for her but she’s so clueless and everyone keeps trying to get her to notice but she won’t and like they’re bests friends🤗🤗

tysm for ur request! if you don't mind I tweaked it a bit so its annabeth and percy trying to set up Luke and reader! hope you enjoy!

KISS THE GIRL

word count: 2000

pairing: Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: Even though this is a daughter of poseidon fic, its not part of my future au! for Luke.

MASTERLIST

Percy and Annabeth were standing at the edge of the amphitheatre, talking about something mindless when they spotted you and Luke walking towards the entrance, seeming deeping engaged in conversation. 

Annabeth watched as you laughed at something Luke said and a light blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Could he get any more obvious?

“Oi, Perce,” She whispered, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, nudging him to look in the direction of the pair of you. 

“Yeah, I see my sister with Luke, what about it-” It appeared the realisation finally struck him, “Oh my god, are they-?” 

“I don’t know. He’s definitely into her, I know that.” Annabeth mused, inspecting the pair as they grabbed two wooden swords and began sparring together, laughing as they repeatedly dodged and side-stepped the other. 

“He told you that?” Percy asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. 

“Well, no. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?” 

Annabeth then gasped in realisation, startling Percy slightly before he realised it was just another one of her epiphanies. 

“We should get them together!” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t that something you leave up to Aphrodite kids?” Percy asked hesitantly. 

“Battle strategy and romantic strategy aren’t all that different.” She shrugged, before dragging him off to draw up new ‘romantic’ battle plans with her. 

STAGE 1: CONFRONT LUKE

Annabeth’s strategy wasn’t all that complicated, and she was pretty certain the most difficult part would be getting Luke to admit his feelings. But, as it turns out, he cracked pretty quickly. 

“Alright, you got me.” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender, “I do like her, but can you blame me? I mean, she’s so smart, and beautiful, and kind, and-”

“That’s enough lover boy. Cool it.” Percy said, cutting him off with a groan. As much as he had given Annabeth his blessing to go along with this crazy plan, he still didn’t want to hear Luke gushing about how hot his sister is. 

“Sorry man.” Luke chuckled awkwardly, before the pair of boys turned back to Annabeth to lead the conversation. 

“So, now that you’ve admitted it, we need to start brainstorming how we’re gonna get you guys together.” She said, clapping her hands together and producing a roll of paper, with a long list of ideas that she promptly began to read out. 

The list ranged from pretty normal things like ‘take her out on a picnic’ to insane stuff like ‘bring her a monster's head as a gift’. Luke wasn’t so sure you would be a fan of that one, but he had to admit all the other items were pretty good ideas. 

“So what do you suggest, Annie? Work our way down the list?” Luke asked, and his little sister nodded, before outlining which ones she thought would be best. 

“We should start small, you don’t wanna freak her out,” She consulted the list again, thinking to herself, “Ah, here we go, ‘Give her a compliment’.” 

“Ok, I think I can do that.” Luke grinned, his head immediately flooded with things that he loved about you. 

“Just don’t make it weird, or I’ll revoke my blessing.” Percy grumbled, his arms crossed as Luke laughed sheepishly again. 

“Will do.”

STAGE 2: START SMALL

The next week mostly consisted of Annabeth and Percy spying on you and Luke at any possible moment. 

The first of his tasks, to give you a compliment seemed to go well. The pair of preteens watched on from their spot behind a tree as the pair of you separated to go to dinner, and Luke complimented your hair. You blushed slightly, and smiled widely, before rushing off to your own table in the dining pavilion. 

Luke quickly whipped around to look at Percy and Annabeth who gave him enthusiastic thumbs ups. 

His next task was to give you a small gift, and he decided that it should take the form of the matching charm bracelets he made with the younger kids. Annabeth and Percy sat with him as he deliberated over specific colours and shapes of bead, until they were nearly sick of his equivocation. 

But, as much as watching him make it was downright annoying, Percy had to admit the way you both wore your charm bracelets everyday afterwards was pretty cute. 

The final task of the week was to bring you flowers, and that whole day Luke could be seen wading through fields of wildflowers looking for the perfect ones to add to his bouquet. This was then snuck onto your nightstand later that night by Percy, who over the course of the week had become very invested in your blossoming relationship, a fact he would deny to the ends of the earth. 

STAGE 3: ESCALATE

“Alright Luke, time to bring out the big guns.” Annabeth announced, before clearing her throat and reading the list of tasks for the week. 

‘Sit at her table during dinner’

‘At least one compliment a day’

‘One instance of arm-around-the-waist contact’

This was the point at which the Hermes boy began to get slightly nervous. The other stuff before could be pretty easily written off as friendly, but sitting at someone's table at dinner? Only couples did that. 

“Are you sure that’s not moving too fast, I mean-”

“Luke Castellan, don’t be so damn pathetic! Grow some balls, before someone else steals your girl!” Annabeth exclaimed, whacking him over the head with the list. 

He nodded, “Yes Ma’am.”

From then on, he was pretty much unwavering in his determination. He sat at your table every mealtime, slinging an arm around your shoulder, or your waist. Anytime you came up with a capture the flag strategy, he’d praise you intelligence, anytime he saw you, he greeted you with a ‘Morning beautiful’ or a ‘Hey sweetheart’. 

Annabeth and Percy were shocked with his sudden progress, but pretty impressed with the way it was going. At this point, the pair of you were practically dating. 

The only minor setback came in the form of your complete and utter cluelessness. 

Percy had decided to test the waters with you, and gently float the idea of you getting together with Luke. 

“You’ve been spending loads of time with Luke at the moment.” He remarked casually as you both walked back to cabin 3. 

“You’ve just noticed I spend time with my best friend? Well done kid.” You laughed, ruffling his curly blonde hair. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of your grasp. 

“Then what did you mean?” You asked, hands on your hips, a confused expression on your face. 

“I meant like, you guys being ‘involved’.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound as nonchalant as possible while looking out for your every reaction. He was unreasonably invested at this point, but oh well. 

“What?!” You exclaimed, your voice suddenly going higher pitched, “Nah, no chance! Luke would never.” 

Percy had to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. It would’ve made sense if you denied having feelings for him, but to be so oblivious of how whipped that boy was for you? He thought you were smart. 

“Yeah, sure. I guess so.” He shrugged once again, before swiftly changing the subject. 

STAGE 4: KISS THE GIRL!!

“Guys, we have a problem.” Percy said, bursting in on Luke and Annabeth’s conversation the next morning. 

“What?” The pair asked in sync, concerned expressions on their faces. 

“Y/N is an idiot.” 

“Woah, don’t say that about her-” Luke began, desperate to defend your honour, but was cut off by Annabeth’s harsh glare. 

“What do you mean, Perce?” She asked, her tone level. 

“Luke, man, she has no clue you like her. Like she is convinced it’s impossible.” Percy explained, and Annabeth’s expression also grew confused. 

“Gods, she really is dumb.” She sighed, ignoring Luke’s chiding at insulting you, “We’re gonna have to really turn it up a notch. Luke, it’s time to really bring out the big guns.”

For the next few days, Luke, Annabeth and Percy spent most of their time rushing around preparing for Annabeth’s so-called ‘masterstroke’. 

And then, after much hard work from the trio, it was ready, and Luke was whisking you away from the campfire to the surprise he had prepared for you. 

“Luke, where are we going?!” You laughed as he dragged you along by the wrist, a piece of cloth tied around your head to block your vision. 

“You’ll see.” He chuckled, gently directing you around a tree root as he led you deeper into the forest. 

“I swear, if you’re kidnapping me I am not going to be happy.” You teased that infectious smile he loved so much covering your face. 

“No, no kidnapping tonight.”

You continued to joke around together as he led you towards his destination, until eventually you came to a halt, and he was untying the cloth around your face. 

You gasped in delight as you saw you were by the pier, and in front of you was a picnic blanket set up with all of your favourite food and drink. 

Immediately you grabbed him by the arm and led him to the blanket, thanking him all the way and gushing about how sweet and amazing he was. Meanwhile, Luke was trying not to pass out from the barrage of affection you were giving him. 

The pair of you quickly tucked into the meal, laughing and joking. But all the while, Luke was preparing his confession, and trying not to let his palms get too sweaty. 

Eventually, he decided it was time, and he made his move. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” You looked up at him with shining eyes, and he had to remind himself to breathe. 

“I’m in-” His love confession was cut off by the sudden boom of fireworks above you both, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to organise a signal with Annabeth to start them. She really did have bad timing sometimes. 

“Oh my gods! Fireworks!” You exclaimed, nudging Luke to take a closer look, pointing out which ones were your favourites, and clearly any speculation about what Luke was going to say had escaped your mind. 

Eventually the display was over, and you turned to him yet again, gushing about how lucky they were that fireworks were out tonight. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone usually so smart could be so clueless?

“I organised the fireworks, Y/N.” He said, softly, placing his calloused hand over yours. 

“What, really?!” You blinked owlishly at him for a moment before furrowing your brows and asking, “Wait, how come?” 

Luke couldn’t contain his chuckle. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now? I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hint at it for weeks, but clearly I wasn’t being obvious enough.”

“What? Why?” You stammered, shock coating your face entirely. 

“Why am I in love with you?” He asked as if it was a stupid question, which to him it was, because he could list a million things that he loved about you. 

“Because you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind, and generous, and every time I see you I can’t help but smile because you're my best friend and I love you more than anything.” He rambled, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his cargos. 

“Now I’d really appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery and reject me.” He said sheepishly, itching the back of his neck. 

But, of course, the rejection never came. Instead you were rushing forwards to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, slowly and deeply. 

And, about ten metres away, Annabeth and Percy could be seen high-fiving behind a tree, before skipping back to the campfire in glee.

[weird-is-life]

Can I request a shy reader and Spencer's fic. When the reader works at a flower shop, Spencer comes in there looking for flowers. And the reader goes on a little rant about what he should buy and what each flower means.

Hii lovely, ty for the request! Hope this is okay🙈warnings: use of y/n, fluff, a few swear words, (0.9k)

Spencer needs to buy some flowers for Emily. It's her birthday and he's always brought her flower before, so even if he's already running late to her birthday dinner, he can't not go buy her some flowers.

He goes into the first flower shop, he spots on the way to Emily's apartment and that's where he finds you.

It's almost the closing time, so you are just sitting behind the counter, reading some book. Spencer immediately thinks he's in love.

He swears, you are the prettiest girl, he's ever seen and the fact, that you are too absorbed in your book to even notice him, makes you even more attractive to Spencer.

You finally notice him as he's a few steps away from the counter. You quickly slam the book shut and try not to look too caught off guard.

You weren't expecting anybody to come to the shop anymore and you definitely weren't expecting it to be a very handsome guy.

His messy, curly hair, expensive-looking black suit and the small stubble have you buckling at your knees. You are sure, that if you weren't sitting on the chair, you would be on the ground.

"H-hi," you somewhat compose yourself, "w-what can I help you with?"

He shoots you a smile and you're pretty sure that your cheeks go very red," Hi, I was wondering if I could get some flowers?"

"D-do you have any specific in mind?" you ask, barely holding an eye contact with him. You are shy and he isn't helping your situation at all.

"Ye-...No, I don't. Can you recommend me some?" Spencer literally knows the meaning of every flower you have in this shop, but something about you makes him shut his mouth, so he can stay here longer.

"I can, yes," you smile sheepishly at him, "who are they supposed to be for?"

"My friend, it's her birthday today," you would be lying, if you said that your heart didn't skip a beat at hearing that it's for his friend and not a girlfriend. You thought, that he was getting flowers for his girlfriend.

"W-well, I'd suggest, that you should definitely get some yellow flowers for her. Yellow color represents friendship, would that be okay?" you hesitantly ask. Spencer just nods encouragingly.

"Okay, so we could do some mixed bouquet. Yellow roses are definitely a yes, you can't go wrong with that, they are beautiful and smell amazing. We should also add sunflowers, they represent loyalty and adoration of the friendship. Oh and mums are grest, too. They can really make the bouquet come alive, they are like the spirit of optimism. We could also-," you ramble about each flower, that you put in the bouquet for him.

Spencer listens to your every word with a happy smile, you remind him of himself with your rambling and to be honest, he finds it adorable.

You are done too quickly tho and Spencer finds himself wanting to hear you speak again.

But his phone rings and he doesn't even need to pick up to know, that the team is wondering, where he is.

"Here, i-is this okay?" you hand the insanely pretty bouquet to him. Spencer's grin basically answers your question.

"Thank you, thank you. It couldn't be more perfect. You're a total lifesaver..." he looks at your name tag, "y/n. Thank you, y/n."

You are certain, that your cheeks couldn't be more red as they are right now. Spencer's compliment makes you blush like a fool.

"Oh. I'm..I'm glad, that you like it." You stutter out your response, looking at the ground. You carefully wrap the bouquet in the flower wrapping paper and tell him the price of it.

He pays it and before you can say no, he puts a bigger tip than it's normal into the tip jar.

Spencer then slowly leaves thanking you as he goes. And right before the door closes, it looks like Spencer wants to tell you something else, but in the last second he shakes his head and dissappears.

You wave him a shy goodbye, you are a little disappointed even if you don't really know why. Well okay, maybe you do know why. But you shouldn't have put your hopes up, thinking the handsome stranger felt the spark like you did. And that maybe, only maybe, he'd ask you out.

You sigh and sluggishly start to clean up the counter to finally close the shop and go home. The door bell rings again and your head immediately shoots up.

He runs up to the counter, a little out of breath, "shit, I'm sorry to bother you again. I don't usually do this, like ever, it's just....Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like for a-a coffee? You can say no of course, hell, I'd totally understand if you said no." Spencer's now the one to rumble.

"I-I'd love to," you, surprising even yourself, reply immediately. Cheeks, of course, burning red.

"It's okay- Wait, really?" Spencer was totally expecting you to reject him.

"Yes, really....." you want to say his name.

"Spencer, my name is Spencer," he quickly understands.

"Spencer, " you try out his name," I'd love to Spencer, here." You bravely scramble your phone number on a piece of paper and give it to him.

Spencer takes it with a huge smile, "I'll call you, " he looks like he wants to stay longer, but looks at his watch and curses under his breath," I'm so late. I gotta go, but I'll call you, I promise."

"Bye, Spencer," you say sweetly and Spencer already knows he's fucked. Not even one date and he knows, he's down bad.

[recklesssturniolo]

Bet - C.S

As per request for a no nut November bet Chris and reader make (: but I also tied in another request for public sex w Chris in it too!

*FYI MATT FIC IS BEING POSTED LATER*

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

“Y/N you know what November is?” Chris asks.

“What are you on about now?” You retort.

“November is no nut November, therefore no sex for the entire month” He explains.

“You can barely go a day without sex, never mind a month” You laugh.

“Oh yeah? Want to bet on it” He smirks.

You roll your eyes knowing this is the easiest bet ever, Chris was horny 24/7, he’s out of his mind if he thinks he’d last a month.

“Sure, first person to give in loses” You say sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal” He replies shaking your hand. “Be prepared to lose”

It’s been a week. Quite possibly the longest week of your life. Chris’ non-stop teasing was driving you insane. Constantly having his hand on your thigh rubbing it up and down, whispering all the things he wants to do to you in your ear, grabbing your ass, going as far to grinding on you while you two make out which made you ache for him. You’d decided you were going to tease him back, but worse.

You were getting read to out to dinner with his brothers, Nate and Madi. Chris and you both in his room as you finish your makeup. Standing up you go to figure out an outfit but knowing you purposely but on a lingerie set that you knew made Chris go insane, you take off your shirt and sweatpants. You feel Chris’ eyes on you as you search through the closet, making sure to take your time.

“What about this dress?” You ask showing it to him.

“That one’s nice” He replies, barely even looking at the dress and instead looking at your body.

Knowing your plan was working you walk closer to him.

“Are you sure? You think the colour is okay?” You knew the dress was fine, you just knew getting closer to him would only turn him on more.

“I know what you’re doing Y/N” Chris says to you, ignoring your questions.

You bend over so your face is hovering above him as he lays on the bed, pushing your chest closer to his face, “Yeah? Is that why I can see your hard on and I haven’t even touched you?”

“Put the dress on before I fuck you so hard you can’t walk to dinner tonight” Chris replies.

“But then you’d lose the bet, wouldn’t want that would we?” You smirk at him, going further and straddling him. There wasn’t any denying that the feeling of his hard on was turning you on, but you focused your attention back to just him.

Chris groaned at the contact from you sitting on him, placing his hands on your hips and slightly pushing you down harder on himself.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now, I’m not losing the bet sweetheart. I might like what I see but I’ll have you begging for it” He smirks.

Not sure of what to respond, you connect your lips and begin grinding yourself on him, causing both of you to moan. You knew even by just doing this you could get him close, and that was exactly your plan. You continued grinding on him, honestly enjoying it just as much as he was but when you could tell he was close, you got up.

“Now I should probably put this dress on so we can go!” You smile.

“Fucking hell, there’s no fucking way you just did that to me” Chris says.

“Did what?” You reply innocently. “Can you zip this dress for me?”

Chris stands up and walks towards you, “Don’t act all innocent, I could feel how wet you were. You want me just as badly as I want you”

You shrug in response, kissing his cheek before leaving the room to leave for dinner.

Now at dinner, Chris is on some tangent about god knows what, and you decide to place your hand on his thigh. Instantly causing his body to tense up, and his eyes to flicker over to you.

“No Chris continue I get what you’re saying” You say, wanting to see just how much you could get away with.

Chris continued talking, and you began palming his dick through is pants.

“Well yeah b-but” Chris stumbles on his words, not being able to fully focus on what’s he’s saying from what you’re doing.

Nick takes over the conversation. You now put your hand under Chris’ jeans on top of his boxers, continuing to palm him.

“Fuck sakes” He mumbles.

“You okay baby?” You smirk up at him as you put your hand under his boxers, grabbing his dick and swiping the tip with your thumb noticing the pre cum that’s there.

Chris let out a moan, immediately covering it up with a cough. No one else really paying any mind to it.

“You know, I took off my parties before we left” You whisper in his ear.

That was Chris’ final straw, he didn’t give a fuck about the bet any more. He needed you.

Cutting Nate off Chris tells the table that you aren’t feeling well and that you’re both going to get an Uber home. You apologize for ‘not feeling well’ and you both say your goodbyes. You knew what this meant - you won. You started walking towards to exit before Chris grabbed your hand.

“Not a fucking chance, bathroom, now. I’m not waiting any longer. Fuck the stupid bet” He demands.

You were surprised by this, Chris had never been so needy that you did it in a public space. Getting into the washroom he pushes your back against the door and immediately starts making out with you.

“God you’re a fucking whore, doing that to me in front of everyone” He says with his hand wrapped around your throat. You moaned back in response.

You were getting exactly what you wanted, you loved seeing Chris like this. He’s wasting no time, he bends you over the counter and pulls his pants down and pulling up your dress.

“Chris” You whine out as he rubbed his dick against your entrance, teasing you.

“Oh what? You don’t like being teased?” He replies.

“Please just fuck me” You reply.

“Oh I’m going to, and you’re going to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you like the whore you are, got it?” He says while lining himself up.

“Yes yes just please” You moan out.

With that Chris slammed into you his pace already fast.

“God I’ve missed your pussy, so fucking tight” He groans out. Continuing to slam himself into you, each thrust hitting you in the perfect place.

“Chris you make me feel so good” You whine out, feeling your legs starting to tremble.

Unaware that you had even closed your eyes, Chris grabs your hair and lifts your head back up, “I told you to watch yourself get fucked by me, keep your eyes open”

“Yes yes I’m sorry, please keep going” You slur out, now watching in the mirror as Chris picks up his pace even more.

“You miss this baby? My dick deep inside you?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

“God fuck yes Chris I’ve missed it so much” You whimper, “I’m close”

“Good, come for me like the whore you are” He replies and moves his hand around you and starts rubbing your clit.

Any sentence you tried to get out from that point on was incomprehensible, the pleasure not allowing you to focus on anything else.

“Oh my god, I’m coming Chris don’t stop” You moan out. Not caring how badly your legs were shaking or how loud you were being, letting yourself ride out your high.

Chris too was about to come, meaning he was going as hard as he possibly could now, well aware there’d be bruises on your hips from how tight his grasp was.

“Such a pretty girl, you gonna let me come in you baby?” Chris asks.

“Yes” You whisper through slight pants.

You feel Chris’ dick twitch inside of you and him release himself. His pace slowing down as he moans out in pleasure.

After helping you clean yourself up, Chris stops you momentarily, “we are never doing a bet like that again, I’m never going that long without you, I’ll go insane”

“Agreed” You laugh.

You walk out ahead of Chris, him waiting a couple moments before leaving himself. What you both weren’t expecting was for the group you told you were leaving due to you ‘not feeling well’ to be standing at the exit.

“What the hell you guys are still here?” Nick asks.

You and Chris both look at each other, your cheeks heating up as you both tried to come up with an excuse.

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look. 

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice. 

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting. 

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it. 

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous. 

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie. 

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt. 

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better. 

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear. 

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it. 

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.” 

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed. 

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying. 

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous. 

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close. 

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing. 

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you. 

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt. 

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle. 

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

[weebsinstash]

I'm sorry but I'm going insane for your idea of Lilith and Luci getting a sinner pregnant together can we please have more of your thoughts on this idea 🙏

Absolutely because I'm a dirty little heathen and Season 2 isn't just about to magically pop up out of the ground and I've had SOME THOUGHTS and also this post is way longer than it should be 💀

I was sitting and I was thinking of the concept of the Hotel having communal breakfasts or having at least one day of the week where there's food served and everyone (typically) eats together, not only as a bonding/unity sort of thing but also simular to how real hotels can have complimentary breakfast as part of your stay, and like, yeesh this is actually an entirely separate fic idea in of itself but you're talking with Alastor and you're saying something along the lines of "oh yeah, well, I was actually starting to think a lot about motherhood before I died, but, raising children is so complicated, not to mention society right now is so genuinely hostile and dangerous to children, and i wouldn't have been able to afford it anyways, and, well, you know, NOW i literally can't have them down here"

AND FROM THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE END OF THE TABLE

COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED

HERE'S LILITH, "Oh! It wouldn't be impossible at all! You and Lucifer could still have a baby :)"

RECORD SCRATCH SOUND EFFECT AS EVERYONE LOOKS TO THE QUEEN OF HELL. She seems completely unbothered while her husband is A TOMATO, he can barely even look in your direction, he's just tugging on her sleeve, "L-Lili, cmon, don't say things like that 😳🥴" and awkwardly laughing, maybe even asking to speak to his wife in private (I feel like its a regular occurrence for these two to dip out of a room and reappear and Lilith is reapplying her lipstick as she re-enters followed by a kiss covered Lucifer lmao)

Can you even imagine going to Charlie, "hey um, this is awkward, your mom keeps like. Jesus please don't kill me I'm not a homewrecker but your mom keeps making comments about me having a baby with your dad and she sounds completely serious about it and shes been bringing it up for like two weeks" and you could not be saying this in a more obvious "hey girl this is weird and I don't like it, can you chat with your parents for me to stop this" kind of way BUT, the actual way Charlie is responding ALSO THROWS YOU OFF. I can see it already, Charlie all but LIGHTS UP WITH EXCITEMENT and she, takes a breath, "oh!! I mean!! You don't have to do anything you don't want to obviously, bbBUT UH THAT BEING SAID oh gosh that sounds like it would make you really happy, aaaaand and I know you wanted a family of your own and, hey isn't this place about new beginnings and" GIRL WE AREN'T HAVING A BABY WITH YOUR DAD TF?

You know how I made that post "hey Lucifer kind of appears to have these vague Master Of All type powers down in Hell, what if he could manipulate your dreams and made you dream about being a kid because he's wanting to heal your inner child/adopt you". I also started thinking recently about Lucifer AND OR Lilith using these powers to make you dream about 1) being with them in general and more specifically 2) motherhood and i started mentally deep diving for that shit. Like. It could genuinely actually get so fucked up actually. Could you imagine you're just, VULNERABLE with the Queen of Hell and you're drunk and you're crying and you're just, SPILLING EVERYTHING, she's getting your entire life's story, and she's petting your hair as youre way too drunk to realize youre telling her way too much, amd she's just thinking "oh you poor thing, human society sounds absolutely dreadful now" and like. Think of it from a hypothetical fantasy psychology perspective. It's not like Lilith has never been part of modern society, she's been a member of Hell forever and has only been out of contact for 7 years, BUT she also exists from a time predating all of that AND she built Hell with Lucifer, so like, imagine she actually starts forming some um Strong Opinions on how, it sounds like all these complicated modern things are really dragging you down, both as a person and as a free spirit, and comes to a consensus that your life needs to be a little... simpler

I'm serious, I'm talking "Lilith makes you dream about being In The Actual Goddamn Garden Of Eden Itself with her and Lucifer and you're ALL naked". Just completely controlling your dream. You're naked as the day you were born and so are they and you can't control your dream at ALL. Lilith is wanting to like, watch you peacefully frolic around, I'm talking she wants to see you having your Hot Nymph Summer where you're napping in beds of flowers and you're having birds land on your finger and you're gasping at all the pretty flowers and wanting to explore and, experiencing the beauty of being alive without all these messy modern nuances and it's like NO MAAM I DONT WANT TO PICK BERRIES FROM THAT BUSH, YOU CAN SEE M Y BUSH AND I CAN SEE YOURS AND YOUR HUSBANDS---

Alastor is over here thinking he's hot shit, "oh I do so wish we could return to simpler times without all these modern trivial problems!!" MEANWHILE LILITH IS LIKE. ACTUALLY GOING THAT EXTRA MILE. Alastor is like "boo cellphones are bad and women dont dress modestly enough, people these days spend too mych time with technology and not with family" meanwhile in "the garden" a completely naked Lilith is braiding your hair and weaving flowers into it while an also completely naked Lucifer is feeding you berries by hand as they discuss the idea of having a nice fun swim in the lake passed the glade, like you guys really are frolicking and fucking around like a bunch of fairies and it's. It's peaceful and fun but also you miss your cellphone and having underwear 😩 like miss queen of hell can I PLEASE get some boob support--

Moving on, I was thinking of the Fake Garden in of itself, as its own idea, but like in this poly baby raising context, it would be essentially Phase 1 of the plan to normalize their presences to you and make you more comfortable around them and then skipping into Phase 10 of "oh hey by the way you're gonna have a dream about um sleeping with the King and Queen of Hell and it's Totally Not Real and you're Totally Definitely Not Actually Like For Real For Real Legitimately Pregnant Now ;)" like. First off before I get any farther in this post can we just like acknowledge the like HEINOUSNESS of you not knowing everything is "real dreams" and LiliLuci using this to their full advantage to ask and find out anything about you because basically to them, they think you're just being boggled down and negatively influences by modern human society and you're like an onion they have to peel some layers off of first to expose those juicy inner tender bits

Just. Ok. Like. High level fantasy horror concept ok, here we go I'm gonna cook here:

It eventually does move on to you having dreams about living in an actual home with Lucifer and Lilith, sleeping with them in you know, All Those Ways, basically in what you think is some weird imaginary throuple that while you do find yourself enjoying it like actually, you can't wake up from it, and these dreams can feel WAY too long sometimes. You're dreaming of some, "am I a man dreaming I am a butterfly or am I a butterfly dreaming i am a man" shit where you hit the pillow in Hell and Dream You is waking up, seeing your husband and wife get ready for work and you're basically a pampered stay at home spouse. I honestly can't decide what dynamic would be cuter: both of them having jobs, you and Lilith having jobs while Lucifer is the house husband, only Lilith having a job while you and Lucifer do dumb shit at home, or Lucifer being big daddy and bringing home all the money while you and Lilith lounge by the pool and she takes you to the spa and pampers you all day and is sending texts and photos of how cute you are to her husband while he's working

You're probably thinking "wait but weeb this is actually kind of cute, where is the horror" and for starters it just kind of, mentally wears your energy down over time to 'never shut your brain off' and have true rest, like Lilith and Lucifer intentionally 'trade' you being alert in reality to you being more conscious in the dream world, so, you're not as present when you're around ACTUAL people as you are when you're in their little, fucked up pocket dimension.

Then you've got. The baby. You're pregnant ONLY in the dream. You have THE ACTUAL PAINFUL EXPERIENCE of giving birth, BUT THEN you're waking up and you can't hold your child, show them to your friends, have the, SANITY AND COMFORT OF KNOWING YOU ACTUALLY HAVE ONE. You're waking up DEVASTATED. Where's your baby? 🥺 oh right.... They're not... actually real... like it fucks you up psychologically

I just picture, if I were to put it in an order of events. You go from 1. Lilith and Lucifer are just your casual acquaintances, Charlie's parents that you know through her 2. They start getting closer to you as you stay longer at the Hotel 3. Ok we get along and have fun moments and even sing songs and we have fun times with your daughter ^^ 4. Ok you're getting maybe a little comfortable, am I tripping or are you a little too comfortable 5. You're Bush Out in Fake Eden 6. You accidentally slip up and get more cozy with them in reality because Ok Maybe The Stupid Garden Bullshit IS Fun And Maybe A Little Soul Healing 🙄 7. You're getting banged in the Garden 8. Being in reality is awkward now, suddenly you're avoiding them less, so you're dreaming about them more, having them push themselves closer to you in response to you trying to pull away, like even if you're spending entire days outside of the Hotel you can't escape needing to sleep eventually 9. Suddenly you're like, not in Eden, you're in a hospital getting an ultrasound w Lili Luci holding your hands as a doctor tells the three of you you're pregnant and oh no you're actually really happy and excited about it 🥺 10. crushing crushing reality. You're single and not pregnant and you're beating yourself up for these fucked up dreams you're blaming yourself for having, as if they're some self conscious desire and you're kinkshaming yourself for having them 11. Dream You is having your baby, everyone is so happy like it's actually so perfect, even when you're stressed as a first time parent you have so much love and support to keep you strong 12. You wake up and it's nothing but DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION where is my baby and my wife and my husband who love me and I love them DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION 13. Lilith and Lucifer HAVE TO to spill that Hey Our Baby Is Real because you're like going near insane with "grief" like youre like actually wanting to try and end your life or constantly self harming because Where Is MY CHILD 14. You're so fucked up at this point you don't care to ask questions when they hand your Very Much Real Baby to you looking exactly how you remember them from your dreams. You're just happy your baby is real and now you can be with them all of the time and you don't even care that um This Was Such A Fucking Ethically Dubious Conception.

Do you think the other Hotel residents would have a sliding scale of being ok with this. Like you just SHOW UP WITH THIS LITTLE BLONDE BABY IN YOUR ARMS and Lilith and Lucifer are all but glued to you and they're all fucking confused because WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??? you barely even spend time with these two, or so they thought??? When were you PREGNANT??? HOW??? I feel like realistically if they aren't all, you know, as Equally Crazy For You, that they would find this extremely manipulative and fucked up MEANWHILE CHARLIE DOESNT CARE and may have been in on it.

Also "something something what if Reader being able to get pregnant also turned out to be like God Himself being like 'hey lucifer lilith here's the deal I'm throwing you a bone right now, ok, this is for you, to keep things chill between us mk' and there are added layers of Oh Shit You Were Created To Be With Them" as if your ass wouldn't have an impossible enough time escaping as is 😭💀

But like... the concept of Reader falling so deep into "grief" that it gets so bad that you're basically not eating or sleeping, Lucirer and Lilith were always gonna tell you but they're forced to do it abruptly because you just breakdown and can't stop crying. Or it's even Charlie disobeying her parents and running up to you with your baby who stops crying the moment they're in your arms

I also just... as a final note..... just as a cute palette cleanser there's one specific idea I keep thinking of... you have your new baby and you're showing it to all your Hotel buddies and you give it to Alastor to hold because your baby was giggling and gurgling at him and you're just, death grip on his shoulder, "alastor please hold my child :) they're excited go meet you, say hi" and while you're like, vaguely threatening him to interact with this baby which he has Extremely Valid Reasons To Find Abhorrent, his deer ears move or twitch, and your baby is just looking up at him with their big eyes, watching those ears twitch, and, poof! Your baby has their first Lucifer/Lilith related shape-shifting incident and suddenly your baby has twitching little red ears and they're looking up at Alastor with these big cute eyes and here you are, "alastor :) aren't you going to praise my baby :) they just had their very first shift and it's for you :) tell them what a good job they did :) you're not trying to make my baby uncomfortable are you :)" and. Ok Maybe this does win Alastor over a bit being the narcissist that he is BUT THE TRUE REWARD is Lucifer scrambling into the room after you call out in excitement, dropping to his knees and all but wailing, "NO, WHY IS MY BABY HAVING THEIR FIRST SHIFT FOR Y O U AND I MISSED IT" and you just have Alastor being an ABSOLUTE SHIT, suddenly oh so cozy with your baby, "well talent recognizes talent! This little one clearly has potential! Why, look at how clearly they ALREADY ADORE THEIR DEAR UNCLE ALASTOR >:)" and from then on you can't leave these two men alone with your baby or they'll be having nonstop contests to "win them over" and prove who the best role model/caretaker is

Ok. Lastly. Lastly lastly lastly. THIS BABY SPECIFICALLY IS RUINING MY LIFE. Look at those STUPID CHUBBY cheeks and those big eyes and how attentive and focused she is like oh my godddddddd if LiliLuci handed one of those to me "this is yours" i would just die like 🥺🥺🥺 man, I'll have to tell you guys later about my idea for "Reader wants to see if Rosie will let them adopt a Hellborn baby and Alastor helps vouch for you and lowkey becomes your husband/the child's second parent" or "Reader finds an abandoned imp baby and all the shenanigans/protective possessive feelings from your yandere/s that follow once you begin your motherhood journey "

[venusacrossthestars]

'What You Waiting For'

Pairing- Oscar Piastri x reader

A/N: This is my first F1 fic ever, so please bear with me. I originally wrote this on my phone but I loved it so much so I wrote more to it. I also listened to 'What You Waiting For' got inspired to write this and then listened to the song for like 45 minutes. Also a special thank you to @arieslost who I sent the crude rough draft to and freaked out about it, I love you bestie <3

WC-764(?)

F1 masterlist

Lights flashing, bass pumping, sweaty bodies, the whole club experience and right in the middle of it all stands you and Oscar. Each of you a drink or two in your systems, enough to make the both of you more confident in each other's presence. A couple of songs go by that you vaguely recognize, until the familiar beat of Gwen Stefani's ‘What You Waiting For?’ blasts over the speakers.

Your face lights up as you shout to Oscar, “I love this song, dance with me!”

“I've been dancing with you this whole time!” He shouts back, rolling his eyes.

“No! You've been dancing next to me, this one you need to be dancing with me!” You don’t let him get another word in as you grab both his wrists and pull him closer to you, shifting his arms to the beat.

"Oh, Oh Oh," you moan out along with the song, you don't miss the way Oscar's eyes skim around your body. You drop his hands to swing your own above your head and spin during the chorus.

Once you're back face to face with Oscar you place your hands on his shoulders, while his find their home on your hips.

Not stopping your movements, Oscar is now moving along with you.

The look he is giving you is far from the friendly innocent looks that the Aussie driver typically gives. His gaze keeps dropping to your lips, and you would be a liar to say you aren't doing the same. The lyrics are exactly your inner thoughts, what are you waiting for?

Instead of singing along obnoxiously, hoping that Oscar might pick up on the undertones you ask loud enough for him to hear, "What you waiting for Osc?"

That seems to be all the push he needs, one hand moves from your hip to cup the back of your head. Faster than you can process his lips are on yours.

With how his lips move against yours, you would think this is the last time Oscar would ever be able to kiss someone. Your hands, now making their way up the nape of his neck, pull at his hair causing him to come up for air-well more of a breathy moan.

Your reprieve is short because he is right back on you, this time you are prepared for it, now equally as desperate. You allow him, well more specifically his tongue, dominance and he is more than thankful.

People move past you, some shoot you a look, but you are more than happy to ignore them. Your focus is on one thing and one thing only, making out with Oscar until you can no longer breathe. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and you pull away from Oscar. His lips however chase yours, to satisfy him you press your nose against his.

“I-” you begin, trying to catch your breath, “I think, maybe, that we should get off the dance floor, people are staring.”

“Let 'em stare,” is all he says as he leans in for more.

“Oscar,” you moan against his lips.

“I love it when you say my name.”

“Oscar, baby, we got to move.”

“But then this might end.”

“What might end?”

“You kissing me, you making those little noises that drive me insane.”

“You could have this all the time. All you have to do is ask.”

“Ask?”

“Ask me out Oscar, then none of this will have to end.”

“Go out with me,” his hands cup your face, eyes pleading, “let me take you out on dates, let me spoil you, let me love you.”

“I would like nothing more,” you giggle, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Now can we please go back to our table, my feet are killing me.”

“Of course baby.”

The two of you walk back to your table, hand in hand. There the rest of your party is going about their business, too fucked up to notice the slight, but obvious, change in you and Oscar's behavior. Well, all except Lando, who is staring right at Oscar with a cat-like grin.

“So all you needed was a bit of liquid courage and some frisky dancing?” Lando asks with a smirk.

You and Oscar both groan and you drop your face into your hands. “How much of that did you see?" Oscar asks with a wince.

“All of it,” Lando replies, “ I thought the two of you were going to rip your clothes off and do it right in the middle of the dance floor.”

“LANDO!”

[heavcnslyre]

chapter three — j.f. ( masterlist )

LOVER, YOU SHOULD’VE COME OVER.

“maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong

but tonight, you're on my mind so, you’ll never know”

taglist: @jellybassett @glowingtree

(authors note PLEASE READ: you guys are the SWEETEST ever omg the amount of love i’ve gotten on this so far is insane. i appreciate, and reread over and over again, every single comment or reblog i get, it genuinely keeps me so motivated to write and i appreciate you guys so so much you have no idea. i haven’t written in forever so i excepted no one to like this fic but so far you guys have proven that to be not true and it brings me so much joy. i plan for this to be long!! idek how many parts i’m just gonna keep writing chapters until the story ends!! i cannot guarantee how often updates will be but i’ll write my ass off as much as i can for a while!! all the love in the world to you guys!!! enjoy!!)

you wake up the next morning with no messages from peter. this, usually wouldn’t be strange since he often slept in later than you, but he didn’t even reply to your message from last night at ten thirty. he never went to bed earlier than two in the morning. a gross, nervous feeling creeps up on you. you try to shake it off, thinking that maybe he just fell asleep early when he hadn’t heard from you. that’s what you would keep telling yourself.

downstairs in the kitchen, steven and jeremiah were sitting on stools at the counter, comparing their cereals. belly was at the table, studying the pancakes she was eating. susannah was cooking more pancakes at the stove. “morning (y/n)!” susannah greets you as you enter the room. jeremiah looks up at you and when you make eye contact, he gives you a forced smile and then looks back down at his cereal. he’d been acting weird since last night, when you told him about peter. it actually sort of made you feel bad, that you didn’t tell him sooner. he was clearly bothered by it or offended about you not telling him. the last thing you wanted to do was make things weird between the two of you, and that’s exactly what you did.

“morning susannah,” you smile at her. “can i have some pancakes?”

“absolutely you can!” she exclaims, flipping a pancake over onto a plate. “give me two minutes and they’ll be ready.”

“thanks susannah,” you say then walk over to sit with belly at the table. she smiles at you, her mouth full of pancakes.

“what are you doing today?” she asks you. you shrug.

“dunno. what were you thinking?”

“you should take me driving,” belly smiles cheekily. you laugh. she always asked to go driving ever since you got your license, but you didn’t mind. she had told you before that she trusted you the most to teach her how to drive without being too judgmental.

“sure, bells,” you say. “you can drive me into town to grab some stuff from the store.”

“bonfire tonight, (y/n),” steven turns to face you. “don’t forget.”

you nod. “would never.”

“can i go?” belly asks, looking between the two of you. steven looks at jeremiah then laughs.

“belly, that’s not really your scene,” steven says. “you’ve never gone before.”

“well i wanna go now,” she looks at you. “please?”

you look at steven, who shakes his head. you shrug. “i don’t know, belly. isn’t tonight usually your movie night?”

“it is,” susannah appears with a plate of pancakes for you. you thank her as she sets them down. “but we could always reschedule if belly wanted to go to a party with her siblings.”

“see?” belly says. “even susannah doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“don’t get me too involved, now,” susannah tucks belly’s hair behind her ear. “i have no opinion on the matter except for i want you to do whatever makes you happiest.”

“i think you should come, belly,” jeremiah speaks up for the first time since you’ve gotten downstairs. everyone turns to look at him and he shrugs. he won’t look at you. “it would be fun if you were there.”

“it’s decided then,” belly says. “i’m going with!”

“better make sure it’s okay with mom first,” steven tells her, but she waves him off, finishing her pancakes and going to rinse off her plate.

“(y/n), i’ll be in the pool. come get me when you’re ready to go!”

“thirty minutes after eating before you can swim!” susannah calls out to her, but belly was already gone. susannah shakes her head, but there’s a smile on that face. “that girl.”

soon enough, you and belly are in the car, her driving you both into town. the music was blasting and the windows were down, hair whipping everywhere, but neither of you cared.

“what do you have to get from town?” belly asks.

“some hair stuff and i wanna go to that one boutique we found last year and see if they have anything cute,” you reply. she grins.

“i completely forgot about that place!”

“me too until i was packing for this trip and found my skirt i got from there last year,” you and belly had always looked around different shops in town, mainly window-shopping and judging the clothes that were sold in those shops. they were so extremely over priced and half of them looked like something your grandmother would wear. that was, until last summer, when you found the most gorgeous hot pink skirt on a sale rack at a new boutique. you could not stop thinking about it after you left, so the next day you and belly went back so that you could buy it. you wore that skirt constantly. the thing you remembered most about it was the way that jeremiah had looked at you the first time you had worn it. he made you feel so special just from one look, so that skirt became a staple piece in your wardrobe after that. when you started dating peter, you stopped wearing the skirt. it was such a small, meaningless idea that he looked at you special when you wore a random skirt, but it meant a lot to you at the same time. enough that it felt like betrayal to pack the skirt to bring to cousins, so you left it at home.

you and belly spend the afternoon at the shops, picking out outfits for each other to try and laughing at the ridiculousness you put each other through. as you’re getting ready to leave, before she starts the car, belly turns to you. “(y/n).”

“what’s up bells?”

“have you noticed anything…different, about conrad?” she sounds hesitant to ask you, and almost whispers his name. you sigh.

“sorta,” you say. “i was talking to jere last night and he told me that things were weird with him. he doesn’t know why, but it’s been months. he quit the football team.”

“what!?” belly exclaims. “no way. he loves football, i thought he was gonna play in college.”

you shrug. “so did everyone. he just changed things out of nowhere. jere said that he won’t ever say anything and pretends nothing is wrong, but he hasn’t really tried talking to him. you know how guys are with each other. talking about stuff like that does not come easy.”

belly nods, staring down at the steering wheel. you touch her arm gently. “hey, maybe you should talk to him.”

“me?”

“yeah bells. he’s happier around you, even if you don’t see it. maybe he’ll talk to you.”

she sighs. “i don’t know (y/n). he seems mad at me. like, every time we’ve talked, he is so different,” she glances over at you. “you know how i feel about him. i just…i hate the thought of losing him.”

“you won’t. i promise you, you won’t. he’ll open up. you sure as hell did not do anything wrong, it’s probably just something small he needs to work through. everything will work itself out.”

belly smiles at you gratefully. “thank you, (y/n). i think i would go crazy without you.”

“that is exactly what a big sister is for.”

she starts the car and begins to drive away. “so, another thing… do you think i should be a debutant?”

“a debutant?” you ask, shocked. “belly, when i was considering it last summer you seemed disgusted.”

“i know,” she sighs. “but susannah asked me to do it…and i know she was bummed when you didn’t do it last year so i just figured….” she trails off, but she didn’t have to finish. susannah had asked you last year to be a deb and you were going to do it, you really were. you even started looking for dresses and planning everything. that was, until jeremiah announced that he had no intention of ever being an escort to the deb ball. it had felt like such an indirect that it completely killed all of your interest in the ball. he was the only person you had even considered asking to be your escort, and he so openly hated the idea of being one, so you figured that was a sign that it wasn’t right for you. if you were honest, you always regretted it.

“you should do it,” you say after a while. “you’re right, it would make susannah happy. and i’m sure you’ll have no problem finding an escort. it’d be a lot of fun to watch.”

“you think so?”

“definitely.”

belly nods, but doesn’t say anything, focusing on the road. you do the same thing, staring forward. part of you still wondered if jeremiah would have been your escort if you had asked. the other part of you hates yourself for thinking that you would be the exception.

later that night, you’re standing and staring at your closet, trying to figure out what to wear to the bonfire. you brought a few dresses and skirts, but suddenly, you hated everything you owned. this bonfire was super fun every year and the best way to start out the summer, so you felt so much pressure to pick out something cute.

“hey,” jeremiah appears in your doorway, ready to go. “you about ready?”

“yeah,” you sigh. “just gotta figure out what to wear.”

“hm,” he thinks for a second, walking towards your closet. “you still have that pink skirt from last summer? that was good.”

you look down. “uh, left it at home.”

“oh,” he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. then, he clears his throat and turns his back to you, facing your clothes. he looks for a second before grabbing a blue sundress and handing it to you. “here. this is perfect.”

you look at the dress and smile. it was one of your favorite dresses, simple and comfortable but super cute. of course jeremiah would pick out a sundress for you to wear. he always claimed that girls in sundresses were his weakness.

“okay. get out so i can change,” you push him out the door and he laughs as you do, allowing you to close the door in his face. you change quickly and find a pair of sandals to go with the dress, check your hair and makeup one last time, then you went downstairs to meet everyone else. conrad and belly were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, steven in the middle of them (which looked like it was awkward for all three of them), and jeremiah sat in the chair by the couch, staring at his phone. when steven sees you come down, he shoots up from his seat and claps his hands. “alright! let’s get going! jere’s driving, i call shotgun!”

you make eye contact with jeremiah who smiles at you after looking you up and down. you feel yourself blush at his gaze. he always did this to you. you felt so special just by him looking at you. it was stupid, honestly. that’s just how he was.

the five of you pile out of the house and into jeremiah’s car, you, conrad, and belly squished into the back while steven and jeremiah sat in the front seat of the car, singing their hearts out to taylor swifts ‘cruel summer.’ they were insane when it came to her music, but neither of them would ever admit it.

as soon as you arrive at the beach, steven jumps out of the car. he’s halfway to the fire by the time you even open your car door, and conrad and jeremiah are following close behind him, leaving you and belly to walk down on your own. you glance over at belly, who is staring at the group of people on the beach, a nervous look on her face. you throw your arm around her. “it’ll be okay bells. it’s actually fun here, promise. just…don’t talk to anyone weird. or too old. and if you get uncomfortable just come find me. we’ll figure it out.”

she smiles at you gratefully. “thank you, (y/n). i’ll be okay. you go have fun with your friends.”

you squeeze her shoulder gently as your friend nicole waves you over. “love you bells.”

“love you too.”

you hurry over to nicole and hug her tightly. “oh, nicole! it’s so good to see you!”

“it’s so good to see you too!” she exclaims. as you pull away from the hug, she offers you a beer and you take it. “how have you been?”

“so good,” you tell her. “the school year was great and i actually have a boyfriend back home!”

“ohhh!!” nicole squeals. “what’s his name? how long have you been together? tell me everything.”

you fill her in on all of the details of your relationship, with her squealing excitedly at the end of almost every sentence. as soon as you finish talking, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and turn to see your friend shayla. it was your turn to squeal in excitement as you hug her tightly, then nicole does the same.

“shayla! i didn’t know you were coming this early!” nicole exclaims. shayla shrugs.

“yeah, mum and dad decided we’d come now rather than later,” shayla replies. “deb season, you know? they want me to be prepared.”

“oh, don’t remind me,” nicole sighs. “i’m helping as a big sister this year. i don’t know if i’m ready to go through it again.”

shayla laughs. “cant be that bad! at least, that’s what i’m telling myself.”

“do you know who’s gonna escort you?” nicole asks. shayla glances at you quickly.

“well, it’s so early, i don’t know…”

nicole scoffs. “shayla, you are the most prepared and efficient person i know. i know you have someone in mind.”

“well,” shayla gives you an embarrassed smile. “i was kinda thinking i would try to get to know steven more. see if he would escort me.”

both of the girls look at you, waiting for your reaction. usually, you hated when girls had a crush on your brother. at school, girls who did would try to become friends with you to get closer to him, and it was tiring. but this was different. shayla was one of the most kind, incredible people you have ever met. you knew she had no ill intentions. also, steven could use a good influence like her in his life. “that sounds like a great idea, shayla.” you say sincerely. she breathes an obvious sigh of relief.

“i’m so glad you said that,” she says. “i would never wanna pursue something if it meant it would hurt our friendship. no man is worth that.”

you nod. “you’re so right.”

nicole’s eyes drift over your shoulder. “i’m, uh…i’ll be right back.”

without either of you replying, she walks away. you watch her as she walks directly to conrad, who had apparently been by himself in that moment. you and shayla look at each other and laugh.

“she is so down bad for him,” shayla says. you nod.

“painful to watch sometimes.”

shayla laughs again. “well, i’ll see you later too, (y/n). i’m gonna go talk to steven.” you grin at her.

“have fun!”

as soon as she walks away and you’re left on your own, your phone buzzes. you pull it out to see a text from peter. finally. it had only been all day since you’d heard from him.

peter: been busy today babe sorry for not replying

peter: at party rn it’s super fun!

peter: look at this video lol there was a tall ass diving board i jumped in fully clothed

peter: (attachment, one video)

you smile at his messages and click on the video he sent you. it took a moment to load, but once it did, you almost dropped your phone in shock. it wasn’t a video of him jumping off the diving board. it was a video of him making out with a random girl. you watch in pure shock, unable to move. as the video goes on, you realize it wasn’t a random girl. it was cassie, your best friend. you watch the video closely, hoping for any sign that this was some sort of a dare or big joke, but there was nothing. they were just heavily making out, his hands up her shirt and her hands in his hair, and someone just happened to be filming on peter’s phone.

peter: oh shit

you stare at your phone for a full minute after the video ended, unsure what to do next. then, looking at your other hand, you knew. you chugged the rest of your beer, found a cooler, and chugged another one. when you started your third one, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey.”

you turn around to see jeremiah standing there, smiling at you. “you having fun?” he asks. you nod, chugging almost half of the new beer in one sip.

“so much fun,” you finish off the third beer and go to grab another one, but jeremiah grabs your hand.

“wait, be careful,” he says. “how many have you had?”

“that was like, my first,” you lie, opening a new beer. “don’t worry, jere. i’ll be fine. just having some fun.”

he stares at you, a concerned look on his face. “(y/n), you never drink like this. what’s going on?”

“nothing!” you say cheerfully. “just trying to start the summer out right,” you look around and see a group of people dancing nearby. you take a sip of your beer and motion towards them. “i’m going to dance.”

“(y/n),” jeremiah calls, but you were already stumbling away from him, towards the people dancing. shayla and steven were in that group, shayla doing more dancing than steven was, but both of them looking like they were having fun nonetheless. shayla grins at you as you approach, grabbing your free hand and spinning you around. you giggle and dance with her for a while, finishing off your beer as you do. you were definitely drunk at this point, which wasn’t hard for you, since you were a lightweight. at things like this, you usually stopped at one beer or seltzer, so you definitely were not used to four. it was good, though. it made you forget about peter and cassie betraying you.

it made you forget until now.

if you were honest, it didn’t surprise you as much as you thought it would. cassie had been the one to introduce you to peter, and she always had a weird connection to him. you almost felt stupid for not seeing this coming sooner. most of all though, you were just angry. angry at peter for leading you on and cheating on you. angry at cassie for supposedly being your best friend and then doing this the second you’re not in town. angry at both of them for ruining the one good thing you had in a long time. as you walk towards the beer cooler again, jeremiah catches up to you and grabs your arm, holding you back. “okay, no. i’m cutting you off, (y/n).”

“let go of me,” you grumble quietly, trying to free yourself from his grip, but he was much stronger than you. he grabbed your other arm so you were forced to face him.

“(y/n), what’s going on with you?”

“nothing!” you yell at him, catching the attention of a few people around you, but you were too far gone to care. “nothings going on with me! i’m just trying to have a good time, okay?”

jeremiah smiles awkwardly at a few people around you, trying to divert the attention away from the two of you. “i know you, (y/n). why are you acting like this? you’re never like this.”

“so what?” you say. “so what if i am?”

a few girls call jeremiah’s name and attempt to wave him over to them, but he ignores them. “come on, we should get you home.”

“i don’t wanna go home,” you say hardly, looking him in the eyes. he looks genuinely concerned for you. somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “i wanna stay here.”

“(y/n)…” he’s cut off by the sound of police sirens and people yelling and scrambling around to pick up the beer cans and leave quickly. jeremiah swears under his breath and grabs your hand, pulling you away from the beach. “guess you have no choice.”

the two of you run towards his car, following everyone else who was running away from the scene. you look around frantically, but can’t find belly, conrad, or steven. “jere, wait, where’s everyone else?”

jeremiah shakes his head. “i’ll find them in a second. gotta get you to the car.”

“but belly, jere,” you say. “she’s probably scared shitless.”

he shakes his head again. “she found someone to hang out with. i’m sure she’s with him. i’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“but—“

“i’ll find her, (y/n).” he cuts you off. “just please get in the car first.” at this point, he sounds like he’s begging you. you look him in his eyes but have to look away quickly. the desperation in his expression was too painful to look at. you nod.

“okay.”

he squeezes your hand then opens the passenger door for you, allowing you to climb in. “i’ll be right back, okay? stay here.”

and with that, he’s running back towards the beach like he was superman. at that moment, it felt like he was, honestly. running back towards the cops in order to save everyone else. you weren’t sure that you knew many people who would do that. while you’re still alone in the car, you pull out your phone to finally reply to peter, who had texted you again, five times.

peter: (y/n) omg i’m so sorry

peter: wrong video but i swear it’s not what it looks like

peter: we’re both so drunk we were dared to do it and that’s why it was recorded

peter: please (y/n) please we didn’t mean it

peter: please believe me

you: fuck you

and with that, you block his number, and set your phone down. you wonder if you would have that much confidence if you were sober. you wonder if you would believe him if you were sober. it was a good thing that you weren’t, you figured. it was for the best. two months didn’t have to mean much, right? just a silly little mistake you made to date him that ended badly, but it didn’t matter, right? yeah your best friend betrayed you, but no worries, right?

suddenly, you realize that you are crying. sobbing, actually. uncontrollable sobs escape from your lips and you sit in the dark car, alone, sobbing your heart out. how was this fair? what did you do to deserve to lose your best friend and boyfriend all at once? the fact that if he hadn’t accidentally sent you that video then you never would have known made it worse. it made you wonder if this had been going on for a while, and he had just slipped up now. you could not stop crying.

even when the car doors opened and jeremiah slid into the seat next to you, you could not stop crying. he looks at you, shocked. “(y/n)?” he asks softly, unsure. the rest of the car is quiet, but you could feel everyone else’s presence in the backseat. you shake your head.

“i’m… i’m fine,” you say unconvincingly. “i’ll be, i’ll be okay.” you nod at jeremiah, who was staring at you with the same desperation on his face from before. he seems unconvinced, but starts the car, glancing at you again before he drives away. in the dark, he reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it tightly in his. you continue to cry silently for the rest of the ride home, squeezing his hand with both of yours.

[hailey-murdock]

Long Enough

Paring: Peter B Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, Dom!Peter, Switch!reader, degradation, orgams denial, and praising, dirty talk, extreme teasing, facesitting, makeout, dacryphilia, masochism, Breeding, marking, voyeurism, fluff, aftercare (I think that's all)

Summary: Peter finally returns after two weeks of being gone, and he makes sure to show his wife how much he missed her. (Reader is Mayday mother here)

Other Characters: Mayday Parker, May Parker

WC: 6.5K (this is pure smut 😭)

A/N: this fic took me about 3 weeks to get done 😭😭😭, so I hope yall enjoys this. The fact that this is my longest fic and that it's smut, it's insane! I'm gonna go to hell for this so whoever reads this, I'll see you in hell soon. (Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated)

Peter had been gone for about two weeks now, each day promising you he’d be back but never showing. You knew that there were times he had to go to the Headquarters. You took your toddler Mayday downtown New York for the day, stopping at a coffee shop for lunch.

As you waited in line to order, Mayday suddenly turned around in your arms and smiled, blabbing about her daddy. You look up, seeing Peter standing by the entrance with flowers in his hand for you and a small teddy for Mayday.

“Hey hun…I’m sorry about the long week.” He says with a soft sheepish smile, approaching your table. You wrapped your arms around Peter, feeling absolutely relieved as you felt his warmth radiate to your body. You pulled away from his embrace and punched his chest.

Peter winces from the force of your punch (maybe he taught you how to throw a punch for self-defense), before pulling you in for one last kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter welcome, babe. Did you miss me? As much as I missed you?” he asked sarcastically and playfully, with a sweet smile on his face as he cupped your face. "I’m so happy right now that my little family is together again'.

"That's what you get for scaring me Peter! But I'm glad you're finally home. Of course I missed you". You couldn't help but pull him into another kiss not caring about the people watching.

Peter couldn’t help but grin into the kiss, kissing back passionately as it lasted a few moments longer than it should be. But it couldn’t be helped, he had just come home and he had to show his wife how much he missed her.

A wide smile appeared on your face as you pulled away. You took Mayday into your arms. "Say hi to daddy sweetheart", you say to your toddler.

Peter softly smiles, as Mayday immediately jumps into his arms and hugs him. “Hey Princess! So happy to see you again. How are you doing?” he exclaimed, with an excited smile as he lifted her high into the air.

Your baby giggles and smiles, holding tightly onto Peter's neck. Your heart swelled with love and warmth at the sight in front of you. Peter with your daughter but his daughter as well. You couldn't ask for more.

“She’s so big now! I swear, Mayday just grew overnight. Look at her, she’s almost as tall as you are now. Before we know it she’ll be taller than both of us.” Peter's chuckles, looking down at your sweet little girl with a wide grin and loving eyes.

A small chuckle comes out of you. "Oh babe, don't say that. She will always be our baby girl".

"Well even if she is getting bigger, she’s still our baby girl, and she’ll always be our princess". Peter replies, hugging her tightly. As she squeals out a little laugh, he plants a sweet little kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah she is, we just got here. Oh, I didn't cook today so we can eat here together, if you want".

“Sounds good to me! We can order something and have the rest of today to ourselves. I’m glad I’m back with you and Mayday". Peter says with a warm smile, looking at his family with the most loving gaze he could muster in that moment.

"Yeah babe, let me just order our usual". You leave your baby with Peter to go and order the food you guys usually liked to eat. As you turned back with the food, you couldn't find your husband. "Peter"?

"Yeah babe, right here". Peter smiles lovingly, looking up to you with his green eyes shining, as if he's staring deep into your soul. The loom on Peter's face made you feel loved like never before. You sat down next to Peter and handed his food. He takes a bite of his sandwich, before taking you into his arms again and kissing you with all his might, feeling as if he hasn't done so in months.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy and full of joy, knowing you had the perfect family. Of course, your family wasn't just a regular family, after all it's not like many women had their husbands as Spider-Man.

A deep shade of red blush appeared on your cheeks the way Peter kissed you. "So I was thinking".

“About what babe"? Peter questioned sweetly, taking in each of your words as if they were the sweetest music he could hear. He rested his hand on your cheek, his eyes locked onto yours. Peter can’t help but smile as he sees your lovely face in front of him once more.

"What if we could get someone to take care of Mayday tonight, so we can have the night together....alone"?

He chuckles softly, placing a hand on your hip and pulling you closer to him. “Oh really? Sounds like you want to have some fun tonight". He whispers in your ear cheekily, with a devilish grin.

"Maybe". A smirk creeps onto your face. "After all you can't blame me Peter, I, your wife, was alone and I needed someone to take care of me". You whispered the last into Peter's ear.

“Well I’d be more than happy to "take care" of you baby. After all, I need to make up with you for all this time I’ve been away". Peter whispers back, leaning close to give you a little kiss as he stares into your eyes, his face full of love and adoration.

"Mhm that's what I like to hear, now eat up we are gonna need a lot of energy tonight". You chuckled as you helped Mayday eat in her chair.

"Yes ma'am, of course". Peter smiled, before finishing up his meal in one final bite. “All done, are you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as a small bit of food falls from the corner of his mouth. He chuckled for a minute, before gently wiping his mouth with his index finger and licking it, giving you a wink.

"Peter"! The small but yet meaningful action caused your panties to grow wet, and the smell hit Peter's nostrils. He bit his tongue to make sure nobody heard his groan. You blush furiously.

Peter smiled at the sight of his wife getting all flustered by his teasing. One of the highlights to your relationship, in his eyes. A little banter and teasing, nothing could beat that. He stands from his seat and pulls you close once again, resting my hands on your hips and giving you a soft smile.

“Are we ready to go home and have a romantic night in? I just can’t help but keep thinking about you…”

"We still need to find a babysitter Peter".

“Is there no one in the neighborhood we can ask? A teenage neighbor or something"? Peter questions, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. He didn’t exactly know many people in the neighborhood, other than those he fought and saved countless times. But he was confident that somebody in the neighborhood could babysit.

"Can't you ask Aunt May"? You suggested it to your husband.

"That’s not a bad idea either. She does live a few blocks from us after all. Maybe she’ll stop by to help her favorite nephew out".

You nod in agreement. “Should we give her a call then, babe"? You questioned, leaning in to give Peter another soft kiss. A gentle pat on the cheek was the final touch, as he held you close.

"Mhm yeah let me call her". As you called May, Peter played with Mayday. You couldn't ask for more. Satisfied was the word you would use to describe your life.

After ending the call with May, you walked back to Peter. "May said she could take care of Mayday, so let's go back home to get her things ready. May said she would come in 15 minutes".

“Perfect, let’s go.” He grins as he grabs your hand, before leading you out the door and back to your apartment. Peter gives you a light kiss on the cheek every now and again, giving his beautiful wife the attention you deserve as the three of you make the walk back to your home. Besides Peter knew how touch starved you could get. He opens the door for you, taking your hand as he steps inside the warm comforting home.

Peter takes Mayday into his arms for you to get a bag for Mayday. After a few minutes May comes and takes Mayday and her things. The two of you say your goodbyes as they leave. You turn to Peter with a devilish smile. "Hi". You batted your long lashes at Peter trying to act innocent. But Peter knew what kind of game you were playing, and who was he to deny your teasing. You wanted to play dirty? Then so be it.

He can’t help but smile as he turns and sees you, a devilish look in your eyes.

“Hey babe. What brings you such a delightful expression”? Peter questions, moving a piece of hair from your face. He loved this game the two of you both played.

"Oh no reason". A smirk appears on your face while you walk towards him and your hands rest on Peter's chest as you look up at him seductively.

Peters blushes a little, as he looks down into your eyes with his own burning green eyes. He could feel your soft hands on his chest, and he enjoyed it. Peter caressed your cheek with his own hand. “Whatever the case may be, it suits you well”.

You tilt your head slightly and a quiet hum is the only noise in the room before gripping his shirt to pull Peter into a messy, heavy, and passionate kiss.

Peter grinned as you pulled him down, pressing his lips into yours. One hand on your cheek as the other on your waist. The kiss was passionate and messy but yet soft, like two lovers who had missed each other for a long time. He could hear your daughter babbling from the other room, before you guys broke the kiss.

The kiss left you dumbfounded, the desire of wanting your husband to touch your body clouded your mind. You couldn't think about anything else. Not even form a single word.

Peter was mesmerized by the way his kiss had left you. He couldn’t help but feel pride in his chest to know only he was the one to make you fall apart under his touch. “What did I tell you? I always know the right way to take care of you". He pulled you close once more, kissing you again while holding you tight. Peter lived for the way the whine, whimpers and moans would escape from you in moments like these.

You moaned at the sensation and pulled your bodies even more than possible closer. Your reaction was exactly what Peter needed, as I continued to hold you close and kiss you. He couldn’t lie to you and say that he didn't want this. He needed this. Eventually you pull apart once more. Peter looks down into your eyes, a loving gaze filling up. “Are you ready for tonight"?

"Y-yeah but first I need to do something". You grin before going to the bedroom to change into a red lingerie set you had just brought a week ago. As you walk out, you see Peter on the couch with his legs spread out. You could just cum at the sight in front of you. "Now I'm ready".

Peter smirked as you entered the room, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Wow, I didn’t expect that. You look absolutely stunning babe”. He gets up and he approaches you, grabbing your waist. “You just look gorgeous. This might be your best look yet".

"Consider this a welcome back present" you whisper in his ear. "Unwrap me Peter".

He chuckles softly, his breath catching in his throat at your words. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up into the air. “I might just have to, I can’t keep my hands off of you".

"Then better get to it". Surprisingly you get out of Peter's grasp. You turn to walk to the bedroom giving him a view of your ass. "Aren't you coming"?

Peter's heart started to race as you gave him that teasing view. A grin is plastered on his face. "Oh I definitely will be in a minute" he teases back. He takes his time walking towards you, his eyes glued to the provocative view in front of him.

Before he knew it, Peter was standing behind you with no words spoken. He reached his hands to either side of your body, and leaned his head against your right shoulder. His breath was hot right beside your ear as he whispered: “You look perfect".

”Peter please, I've missed you, I missed your mouth, your hands and your…..cock" you said very quietly the last word.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter as you spoke of missing him, even more so considering the final part. Your voice was deep and seductive, he loved every moment of it. “You missed what baby? I didn't quite catch the last part. Be a good girl and say that one more time” Peter said with a smirk, raising his eyebrow.

You were growing more desperate by the second. A rush of blood went straight to your cheeks, embarrassed to repeat what Peter had asked you to say. But being his "good girl" was something you badly wanted to be. "I missed your cock. Need ya to fill me up".

One thing Peter always loved about your relationship is how direct you are. Other people would dance around this topic, but you, god, you were straight to the point. A chuckle left his mouth as you continued to speak to him in that way. “I think I could do just that….”.

"Please Peter, please….. f-fuck I need you".

When he heard your words, Peter was almost convinced that they were honey for his ears. He was all yours, after all. He let out a soft sigh, before his hands came up to your face. “Oh sweet girl, you don’t have to ask twice. I’ll be right back, you be ready". He winked, as he walked back to the living room and closed the door.

Peter entered the room, a devious grin on his face. It was the perfect night. You whined as you waited for him. Your clit is desperate for anything. The ache was starting to grow more and more as time passed. But you knew if you touched yourself you would get punished. As Peter heard your whining, he smirked, knowing full well that he had you right where he wanted you. Once the door was opened he made his appearance again, looking better than ever. Peter looked down into your eyes.

“Are you ready to get this started"?

"Y-yes". You say already breathless. The more you thought about his fingers, mouth and cock, it made you dizzy. The thrill was rushing through your veins.

“Good girl. Now don’t move". Peter said with a smirk, before making his way over to the bed. Without a word he laid down, leaning over you with a soft smile. “How do you want to begin"? Peter asked, before planting a quick and soft kiss below your ear.

"Whatever- i-just need you n-now". You leaned in to feel his lips against yours. He smirked, as he felt your breath on my lips. But never touching your lips, fucker, you thought. “As you wish, my love". Without any hesitation Peter began to undress, starting with his shirt. “Just for you-“.

Peter had never in the entire time you've been together this flustered or needy. He didn’t mind at all, he loved seeing his best girl with great desire for him. Hunger in your eye. The smell of your arousal in the air is stronger by the second. His pants feel tighter as he inhales your arousal. It was getting painful, but so good. After all he was a sucker for pain. But Peter wanted to focus on you first.

A smile fills up on Peter's face. “Well if you say so". He gives you a kiss, before cuddling you close. His game was just starting. “I’ll let you take it from here, I’ll just lay here and enjoy the show" He smirked.

"But Peter, I wanted you to show me how much you missed me" you whined desperately.

“Ah, of course. You want this night to be mutual, of course". Peter says, giving you a soft smirk and a nod. “In that case, I guess I have something else up my sleeve…”.

"Peter don't tease". You give him the best pout you could in front of him as you give him "fuck me" eyes.

He chuckles at your pout, and he feels an urge to tease you even further with the way you looked at him. But he kept his lips tight, only smirking at you now. “Oh I’ll tease you all I want, and I’m not gonna give in to your demands. Remember who the fuck is in charge”. Peter was so close to your face, his warm breath blowing against your face.

You nodded, not wanting to push his limits tonight, that could be for another night. Your leg wraps around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Your leg wrapped around him caught him by surprise as he wasn’t expecting it, feeling a jolt of shock go through his body. He lets out a quiet gasp, before smiling. “Well that’s a new one". Peter wraps his arms around your back. “Are you getting impatient, my love?”

You nodded quickly trying to please Peter. "Y-yes sir".

"In that case, I wouldn’t want to make you wait any longer for it, would I"? He comments, giving you a smirk as his hands move down your back towards the top of your thighs.

"P-please Peter, I need it".

He bites his lip, before smiling softly. “Oh I think I know exactly what you need, sweet girl". His hands continue to move further down towards your thighs. A soft smirk on my face, as my hands move ever so slowly to your inner thigh…

"Peter I swear to god if you don't fuck me in the next minute, I won't let you cum inside of me". You threatened him, wanting him to act quickly.

That last part caught him off guard, he wasn’t expecting that. Peter let out a chuckle, his hand gently trailing down your inner thigh slowly. “Now what makes you say that"? He asks, in a teasing tone.

"You aren't inside of me or using your mouth on me".

He smirks, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the lips before whispering in your ear. “Well you sure aren’t making it easy for me, with the way you just talk to me". He says, in an almost seductive tone. “You sure you can talk so dirty to me? Because as it seems, I might just need to punish you for it…”

"I- no, please, I'm sorry sir. Please I just need you".

He speaks to your soft ear. “Oh so now you want it? Now that you’ve apologized? I wonder, where were those sweet, innocent words of yours earlier. That’s what happens when you try to disobey my orders, baby". Peter whispers, before pressing his lips against your neck and moving his tongue along your skin.

The sensation was enough to make you moan out loud for him. "F-fuck peter".

Your small moan of pleasure was the only thing he needed to hear, knowing that it was time. Peter pulls you closer to himself, your bodies pressing up against each other as he feels the heat rising from your body. Peter gives you a soft squeeze before moving his hands up to your chin, gently resting them on each side of your face as he smiles down at you.

"I promise to be a good girl but p-pleaae don't punish me".

He nodded at your words, giving you one final kiss for good measure. “Perfect". He whispers in your ear, before you even know it Peter had already moved off his pants and boxers, he pushed aside your panties and moved aside your slick folds to put his cock inside of you. He takes a deep breath in, before letting time slow down just for a moment. Peter reaches in for one last tender moment with you before looking into your eyes.

“I love you, with my entire soul. You mean everything to me". Peter whispers to you. “I won’t ever leave you, alright"? He whispers in your ear, leaning in to kiss you once more.

The only thing you can think of right now is Peter moving inside of you. He wasn't even moving faster but yet it was perfect. The stretch was worth it, if you could you would have Peter inside of you 24/7. His touch was addicting. "I love you Peter, god, you're making me feel good".

"That's what I do best, sweetheart". He whispers, before kissing your neck. A soft smirk fills his face as his own voice leaves his mouth. “Just remember, it’s only going to get better".

The more Peter spoke to you the more your arousal dripped down onto the bed leaving a wet spot. You arch your back so that Peter could take off your bra and the pleasure was overwhelming. "F-faster".

Peter let out a soft chuckle, as he kissed the side of your neck. “Is that another command from my obedient little lover"? He asks, with a small smirk on my face.

His movements were even slower which caused you to groan out loud. "I'm sorry". The room was filled with your whimpers.

Peter smiles, a more mischievous expression taking over his own face as he continues. “Oh you need a little discipline then"?

Peter wanted to record your whines and play them later off for a release when you couldn't help him out. But hearing them now, together, he couldn't ask for something even better.

"Peter please, I want to cum".

He couldn’t help but giggle, before speaking in a soft but teasing tone. “Oh? Is that what you want? How cute". He smirked as he stopped his movements.

"Yes please". You had never begged so much as you had done right now. The embarrassment was the last thing on your mind. You didn't give one shit. You wanted, no, you needed to reach your orgasm.

“Well in that case, why don’t you ask nicely"? Peter asked in a soft, seductive tone.

"Please sir, please let me cum please".

He smirks. “You really can’t hold back, can you”? Peter chuckled, watching your begging from a soft, knowing grin.

"Please I can't handle it".

“Oh can’t you? Do you really want me to make you cum sweetheart? God, you're such a slut. Never met someone who was such a whore like you. Getting cockdrunk easily. I've barely moved and you're already falling apart".

"I'm your slut, you know that". There's a tone of annoyance and despair in your voice. It was making you wanna take charge instead.

“Oh dear, are you already getting impatient”? Peter rested his hands on your waist. “You were the one who wanted me to tease you, but it appears you can’t take much teasing. So I should let you release yourself from it then hm"?

"Please Peter I'm begging you, please make me cum, it's been two weeks since you last made me cum, please Peter".

His smirk grew as he heard you beg, your voice filling him with a sense of pride and confidence. “You really can’t handle anything, can you"? Peter says in a teasing tone.

"Can you blame me? I was alone without you for two weeks Peter". Your voice was breaking of how badly you wanted to cry. Your clit was getting puffy and it was bothering you. The feeling of Peter's cock inside of you was overwhelming

He sighs, his smirk filling the room. “I suppose I can’t blame you. In that case, I should really make up for those two weeks, shouldn’t I? Make my good fuck toy feel good, isn't that right"? To not move, not even a single muscle. He made a sound every now and then, your tightness was making it harder for him to not cum inside of you.

"Y-yes please sir".

Your pleading could convince anyone to do anything, as you continue to grow more desperate for his touch. He leans in and whispers in your ear. “As you wish, sweet girl. But you better be ready once I start, as there’ll be no stopping me now". A wink soon filled his face, as he began to move his hips once more.

You couldn't believe how hot you were getting by Peter's words.

“I’ll be honest hun, you looked extra beautiful tonight in that lingerie that you had on earlier. I loved my present".

You bit your lip to conceal the moan that was gonna escape easily out of your throat. "Mhm only for you baby. Fuck you feel so good inside of me. Sir give me another baby please, fill me up with your cum".

A soft smirk spreads on Peter's face as he hears your words. “Only for me, huh? Well it’s not a surprise we make a hell of a couple. Want me to fuck another baby into you? Want everyone to see that you're mine”? The last part wasn't even a question, it was more of a statement. Hell, you were married and sometimes that ring wasn't enough to get the ladies off of your husband.

Your hips move upwards to gain a bit of friction from Peter just to receive nothing but the air. He pulls out of you.

He takes a moment to see your response to his tease. Peter leans down your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. He holds back though, not wanting to give you his full touch

He chuckles, as he hears your pathetic whimpers and pleads. He can see the desperation in your eyes. “Don’t blame me when this is all we end up doing tonight, sweet girl. You keep begging like that and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop…”

"Then don't sir, let go for me" and that's when he lets out a groan at the tone of your voice. It was filthy and dirty of you. But Peter loved it so much that he smiles hearing your sedating words. This is what he was waiting for, as you finally let go of your restraint. With your permission, Peter knew nothing would stop this now. He moves further up now, resting his head against your chest as he moves my hands further up to your breasts…

You could taste the copper on your tongue after biting your lip in anticipation of what Peter was gonna do to you.

He gives you a soft kiss on your neck and collar bone.

"Please just do anything", you shudder as his wet but warm lips were on your skin. It made a chill run down your spine.

Peter gives you one final smile, as the moment he had been waiting for finally arrived. He leans in once again to tease you, but before he even begins, he whispers "Are you sure"?

"Peter! Yes, you have my permission so stop asking", you grew irritated by the second, wanting to take matters into your own hand.

You unconsciously spread your legs wider for Peter. He gives you a playful wink, “Ready"? You suddenly go silent as he slowly moves closer to you once more, a soft smirk filling his face. Peter leans in slowly, taking his time as he moves up your body, “Did you really think it would be that easy to make me start”?

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to God if you don't put your dick inside of me and fuck another baby into me, I'll take Mayday and divorce your ass".

His eyes fill with a knowing smirk as he hears your words. A soft sigh escapes his mouth, as he looks into your eyes. “Now would you say that to me in front of our daughter? What would she say if she heard you saying those words? Would she approve”? Peter asks in a teasing tone.

"She's only two, she doesn't understand babe".

“Oh she’ll understand one of these days. Just think about it, when she's older, she could be in her room. And she hears her so innocent mom whining for my cock” he says with a chuckle. “And when that happens, what will she think of her good mom?” Peter goes in even closer, his soft voice barely even breathing over your ear. Does he even care how close he is to you? Or does he just want to tease you as much as he can?

"Sir stop fucking teasing me or I won't let you cum tonight".

Peter fucking chuckles at you, at least your resolve to get the reward has not wavered. “Oh you haven’t given up yet then?” His lips are almost touching yours. “I guess we still have a little bit of a way to go, if you’re still wanting this as much as you did before, don’t you?

You couldn't handle the teasing anymore. So you somehow managed to flip yourself so you could straddle Peter. "If you won't fuck me, then I'll just take what's mine".

All the work Peter had done before to get to this point had been erased, as you managed to get on top of him. A small grin fills his face, as he finally sees the payoff here. “I can’t complain, now can I”? His hands now grab a hold of your hips.

"Mhm nope", you say as you grab ahold of his dick and sit on him. Once he bottomed out inside of you, you moaned at the stretch. Peter was thick and sometimes you wondered how he made it fit, but he would always say "Don't stress that pretty little head of yours, I'll make it fit baby", and he always did.

Maybe after all, all of his teasing did help in the end. The sound you made when his tip hit that one spot that made you fall apart was pornigraphic. But the embarrassment of it was the last thing on your mind. As a matter of fact, you didn't even think. It was just you and Peter.

Of course your pleasure was amazing but for Peter it was overwhelming. It took so much of his willpower to not cum the moment he felt the warmth of your pussy wrapped tightly around him. That sound you made was nothing like he had ever heard before in the time he's been with you.

It gave him a wave of satisfaction over him, as your voice told him everything he needed to know. It was as though everything had been leading up to this moment, as his heart began to pound in his chest and Peter felt a rush of excitement. But he still wasn't done with his teasing just yet.

A soft sigh escapes Peter's mouth as you start to take over. “Took you long enough, eh" he says in a teasing tone, just to get a rise out of you.

"Fucking shut it Parker, or I'm not gonna sit on your face after I'm done ridding your dick".

“Oh baby, you look so cute trying to take charge here", he let out a chuckle, as he looked up at your face. “That's your way of asking me to shut up"? Peter smirks, before giving you a wink.

You pulled him out of the one place he considered heaven and you groaned at the emptiness inside of you. But you would not stand his back talking anymore, you moved to hover over his face. "Since you wanna use that mouth so badly you might as well make it of proper use".

But with his stupid strength he stopped you before you could sit on his face. “Is this your way of punishing me now?” he asked, continuing to tease you.

Peter continued to speak, as your attempts to stop him were only making it more fun to talk. “So would you say that was a good idea"? The smirk still stuck on his face. He lets out another chuckle, as your attempt to silence him only made him laugh more. A soft smirk crosses his face, as your actions had the opposite effect on him. No, he wasn’t going to shut up.

"Peter I-".

He gave out a small laugh. “Sorry, I can’t hear you", he says, with a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. "Care to repeat that baby”?

You lower yourself onto his chest as you stare into pretty stupid brown eyes. "Fuck me please...I'm tired of your teasing".

“Glad to finally hear that". Peter says, as he sits up a little bit. “We could’ve just done this earlier on, instead of me teasing you". You couldn't believe him. You had literally told him earlier that you wanted him to fuck a baby into you, but this was all apart of him plan.

"Please just do it now, I've been good sir. You always say good girls get rewarded".

Peter finally agrees to your request. “Fine then, I’ve had enough fun for one night. So what do you say? You really want to make your dreams come true"?

You nod rapidly, at any moment you know that you're gonna break. "Y-yes please".

All of Peter's teasing has been leading up to this moment after all, so it was time for him to finally give you what you’ve been waiting for. “I hope you know you still owe me one, once I’m done here", he smiles playfully.

"Yes yes whatever you say sir". You didn't care about anything especially when he was about to give you the one thing you desperately needed. You move lower to his lap just hovering over his cock.

Your tone shifted, as you became more serious. Peter could feel the warmth of your wet cunt radiate onto his cock, it made it twitch. He had no idea how he was able to not cum after an hour of teasing.

After the moan that escapes your throat, it makes you feel like a porn star. It was disgusting and sinful. God, how Peter missed the sounds you made for him. Only him. Your hips rotate slowly and steadily, grinding into Peter's

Savoring the feeling of his cock stretching you, filling you completely. You squeeze and relax your pussy around him. Peter's arms are wrapped around you, pulling you tight against him, skin against skin.

Peter moves his hands slowly down your waist, feeling your soft skin against his fingers, down to your hips. He holds your firm ass in his hands and purposefully begins to move his hips up and down into you, grinding more than anything else.

You lift yourself up a little, your big round tits right in front of Peter's face. He traces his tongue along the underside of your breasts and around your hard nipples, circling them, teasing them. He flicked his tongue across your nipples, then sucked them into his mouth.

You raise your hips and begin to pump up and down, slowly at first, deliberately, taking Peter deep into you. Then slowly let him slip out, almost all the way out, with the head of his cock right at your wet and dripping lips, you lower yourself on him again.

"P-Peter….. fu-fuck".

His hands move back up your waist and massage your tits as he sucks them again into his mouth leaving dark purple hickeys, for him to see. Your long silky soft hair drapes down and brushes against his face, caressing him with the softest touch.

"My slut, taking my cock like the good slut you are".

The two of you begin to thrust into each other harder and faster. The intensity is greater than what you had both imagined. Little by little Peter is pounding into you with a perfect rhythm, your hands running through his hair, pulling it.

Wrapping his arms around you, Peter rolls you over onto your back, still deep inside you. He grabs your ass with his hands and lifts your hips up off the bed as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him into you.

Holding you, Peter thrusts into you -- full, deep, long thrusts, slapping against you each time. Your lips are wrapped tightly around him, as if pulling his cock into you. Thrusting, he watches as your tits bounce back and forth.

The bed sheets wet with your juices leaking down onto it, his cock disappears into you then re-emerges, pounding you. You on the other hand, you play with your tits, tweaking your nipples.

You both roll around on the bed, and continue to fuck each other senseless, alternating who's on top -- sometimes slowly, often hard and fast, always completely in tune with each other. Holding, caressing, kissing..., you fuck and suck each other for almost two hours.

Peter holds back, denying himself his own orgasm. His priority is to make you cum as many times as he can until you beg him to stop.

"I'm g-gonna-". Peter was so lost into his pleasure that he couldn't make out the words.

"In me, cum in me". You weren't lying when you told him that you wanted him to put another baby into you. There was no barrier for either of you. This was the moment to do it.

Finally, after pulling four orgasms from you, he can no longer hold back and unleash a powerful orgasm into you. You are sure he had never came this much before.

His hot cum hitting the depths of yourpussy, filling you and dripping out around his cock. He collapses on top of you, completely spent and satisfied, never happier than he is now.

You hold each other, catching your breath, kissing and fondling one another. Your body glows from the moonlight that peaks through the window of your bedroom and the beads of sweat -- Peter doesn't know if you have ever looked more beautiful, but he knows that your beauty is the woman inside, the woman that has his heart safely tucked away, as much as the sheer beauty of your body and eyes.

You know how much he loves you and he knows how much you love him. Your sex alone is great, but making love is the greatest pleasure of all for the two of you.

You lie together on the bed in each other's arms. Not long after you fall asleep in Peter's arms. He gets up to clean himself and you as well while you sleep. He tucks you in properly after.

Peter climbs in with you, and holds you until he falls asleep, happy and content, hoping and praying for another day to spend with you, and thanking God for another day he had been able to spend with you.

[lazycats-stuff]

I re-read the fic where baby reader first words was "jay" it was to cute 🥺😭 maybe a part 2 of Jason using this whenever his siblings fight and he's just "was your name his first word? I don't think so."

Oh yeah, Jason would totally use it. No doubt about it. Bragging rights too. Jason Todd & child!male reader - part 1 so to speak. Also, it's a little bit short, but it's full of fluff.

Summary: Jason is still on cloud 9 ever since (Y/N) said his name.

Warnings: Bragging rights, Jason feels like he is the king of the world.

Ever since (Y/N) has said Jason's name as his first ever word, Jason spent even more time with his baby brother. His goal was for (Y/N) to say Jason at one point. Full name and not just Jay. Not that. But still, he is happy that (Y/N) loved him so much that he would say his name.

Of course, that event made new arguments in the family. Of course, (Y/N) is a baby and (Y/N) is not at fault at all. They never blames (Y/N) and they never will. They blamed Jason for it and Jason blamed them. Bruce and (Y/N) would watch them from aside.

(Y/N) would be tilting his head in confusion and Bruce would kind of copy the same head movement. The arguments were always about something completely stupid and at this point, they were all just looking for a reason to fight.

Alfred would scold them all the time, but there was no point. It seemed that the four older boys need to just get it out of their systems. Bruce was confused as to why they have entered this stage, but at least they weren't actively trying to kill one another.

At least.

Bruce was feeding (Y/N) some mashed up fruit that Alfred has prepared. (Y/N) loved to eat the fruit and he giggled every time he saw the familiar dark red color coming towards his mouth. Bruce smiled at the sounds, happy to see his baby happy.

" Oh I'm sorry, did (Y/N) say your name as his first word? " Jason countered and Bruce sighed. This is the nth time that Jason has mentioned that fact. And there was more to come, Bruce was sure of it.

" Oh please Todd, babies love people who share their IQ. "

Bruce snorted quietly. (Y/N) looked confused at the noise that Bruce made. Bruce shushed him gently, putting more mashed fruit into his mouth.

" Oh please demon spawn! He knows who is intelligent. " Jason tried to defend himself, but Damian wiped the floor with him with that insult.

" Master Bruce, they are going to drive me crazy. " Alfred said as he entered the kitchen, taking his grandson into his arms.

" I know. Did you hear what Damian said? " Bruce asked as Alfred was gently swaying his grandson.

" I had to give him the credit, he is witty. " Alfred chuckled and (Y/N) giggled at the sound of laughter.

" That he is. I can't blame them. Every time they argue, Jason pulls the (Y/N)'s first word so much that it's becoming insane and outright annoying. " Bruce said and Alfred nodded, (Y/N) giggling and making more cute noises. Bruce couldn't imagine his life without (Y/N) anymore and his noises that he makes.

No baby should be this adorable. Bruce watched as Alfred handed his son over to him to wash his hands. He had plans to make some cheesecake and he couldn't do it with (Y/N) in his arms.

Bruce listened to his sons arguing and then he heard Jason running over to the kitchen, stopping when he saw (Y/N). He walked over to Bruce, taking him into his arms. " My baby brother, the only one who loves me. " Jason said as he swayed his brother, giving him a kiss on his head.

" We love you too Jason. " Alfred chimed in and Jason shook his head. " No, only (Y/N) loves me. " He said and the baby giggled once more.

" Yes you do. " Jason said as he glanced down at his brother. " He doesn't see my flaws. " Jason said and Bruce raised his brow. " Well, he doesn't have to listen everyday how he said your name as his first word. " Bruce said and Jason gasped in faux shock.

" Old man, you hurt my heart. Do you see this (Y/N)? They teamed up!" Jason said as he walked out of the kitchen. Bruce smiled at the sight of his two sons. Now he knew that if something were to happen to him or Alfred, Jason is the one to take care of (Y/N).

Of course Bruce had that planned out. Of course he did, he is Batman and his job is dangerous and him dying is something to keep in mind. He is human and he is mortal.

Nothing really spectacular.

" He loves that boy so much, it's incredible. " Alfred said as he was making the batter.

" I know... " Bruce said as he glanced over to the newspapers. He took them to see if what was happening in the city.

Jason walked with (Y/N) to his room, stopping to allow Tim and Dick to give him a few coos and then moved to go on with their tasks. Damian stopped too and Jason narrowed his eyes at him.

" Come on Todd, you can't be mad at me for stating the truth. " Damian said as he caressed (Y/N)'s face.

" Oh I am mad. I am so pissed that you can consider yourself lucky that I'm holding (Y/N) right now. " Jason said in a neutral voice, but Damian knew that Jason could mess him up and that he would start fighting him if he didn't have (Y/N) in his arms.

" Sure. See you later Todd. " Damian said as he walked away.

Jason let out a huff as he carried (Y/N) to his room. He knew that (Y/N)'s nap time was nearing and he was going to take that nap with (Y/N). Whenever he could, he would take a nap with his baby brother.

" You are the only one who loves me (Y/N). And honestly, I love you too. " Jason said as he laid (Y/N) down on the bed, near the wall. (Y/N) yawned quietly and Jason laid down next to (Y/N) and he reached out to grab Jason.

Jason gave (Y/N) his pinky and his little pink fingers wrapped around Jason's pinky and it didn't even close all the way. Jason smiled and cooed more at his baby brother.

(Y/N) slowly started settling down and he closed his eyes. Jason watched him for a few moments and by few moments, probably for over 10 minutes. Soon, Jason fell asleep too and made sure to listen to (Y/N)'s noises and movements.

Thankfully, Bruce and the training he got the make him sensitive to movements and sounds. When it comes to (Y/N), that is great. Especially when it comes to (Y/N)'s protection.

[copias-sewer-rat]

COPIA'S SEWER RAT RECOMMENDATIONS PT.1

This has been a long time comming! I wanted to take the time to create a long post not only with fic recommendations but also other stuff. The Ghost community is so talented that I needed time to gather all of the amazing projects and ideas that flutter around.

(This even took longer than anticipated because just when it was almost ready some of the authors in this list posted some freaking MASTERPIECES and I needed to add them as well, obviously.)

I plan to do a post like this from time to time with new discoveries, so please if you don't follow/know these creators, please check them out. Furthermore, if there is someone you think I have missed or that you would like for me to check out, please, let me know. I am always eager to know more amazing creators.

(please be aware that some of the fics and artists I will be talking about write some very nasty, yet amazing, stories/art so please always check their tags and tws before diving in).

next part | my masterpost

📝WRITING

Let's start with one of the backbones of this amazing community: @da-rulah and her gorgeous and deliciously nasty fics. Please go read Rituale Septem and Confessional if you haven't already. Her hcs and drabbles are also so so good, you should read everything she has written, you won't be dissapointed.

Now, the wonderful, amazing writer that is @her-satanic-wiles. I have become her personal and most ardent supporter this October (if you could not tell by how much I have reblogged and liked her stuff smh). Her Kinktober challenge this year has been an absolute delight so I leave you with her mastrerlist so you can check her out on your own.

Now, my beloved, the amazing writer that is @writingjourney with my favourite fic to date I Knew Nothing but Shadows. I honestly get such joy when she posts, it is pure perfection. She puts such detail in her writing that it always makes me so incredibly happy to read her stuff. I also leave you with her masterlist, please check her out! UPDATE: SHE JUST POSTED THE MOST PERFECT VAMPIRE SECONDO FIC, you must read it: Friday Nights at the Vinothek.

The great @bupia is next!!!! I honestly adore everything they write. My personal favs are Barista Preferita, Love Letter, Bloodlust, their kinktober series and their new work is Serendipity. I am always in awe with how they write honestly. I want to be y/n so much with their fics (lol, cringe). Please read everything of theirs!

How can I not mention the absolute, amazingly talented, cowboy lover that is @ramblingoak ??? Her whole universe of cowboys (I love cowboys like yeehaw all day you know?) is honestly one of my favs, AND THE WAY SHE WRITES, let me tell you, the DETAILS, the EMOTIONAL backstories, THE ROMANCE, THE DRAMA?! Please go read The Cardinal's Bride and the other stories of the same au if you haven't done so already. You are missing out on one of the best AUs this fandom has to offer. UPDATE: A NEW FIC?! SKATING COPIA?! TIGHT SUITS?! Need I say anything else? Go read her new series: Copia on ICE!

Then, @molly-ghuleh !! I just started reading her stuff and now I cannot stop?! Camellia is SO GOOD you must read it!! It deserves much more attention!!! THE DETAILS?? The love at first sight trope leaving me in shambles???!!! I am seriously invested and I cannot recommend her more! GO! NOW!

Next, my lovely ghestie @discountdemonwarehouse/@eyeslikelilith who is so funny and so so nasty😈💜! Please go follow her here and on Ao3 for her amazing fics (I love her WWDITSxGhost fic What We Do In The Ministry the most hehehehe iykyk)

@leezlelatch and her amazing drabbles bring me so much joy, please go check her out and read everthing she posts, it is wonderful and insanely entertaining. (I cannot choose only one recommendation help, read everything!!!)

What can I say about @earthry other that she is amazing and I that I am obsessed with her drabbles and asks? I have read Watermelon Kisses so many times that you could lock me up.

Go check @zombie-rott out in general! Her stories are very comforting and nice!!! AND THE WAY SHE WRITES??? I love love love it. I highly recomend reading Pawprints, it is adorable, you should ckeck it out.

Please go read @bethbruttenholm's Seduce Me... I fell in love with this fic, so so good, and her writing is *chef's kiss*.

@anamelessfool in general is a master, like, her Omega3 fics are so nice *wink*, extra kudos for Reciprocity muhahahaha (it is delicious)

AAAAAA @gravehags and her curator!reader x copia series??? I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED? THE HALLOWEEN CHAPTER? I WAS GRINNING LIKE A MADWOMAN ALL THE TIME. She also writes a lot about the Ghouls and Ghoulettes and it is SO SO NICE!

@the-curator1 In The Darkness of your Dreams ??? AN ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE oh my Satan, I LOVE LOVE IT!!!

🎨ART

This list is going to be long and I don't want to sound like a broken record or make this post eternal (because I could talk about all of them for ages if you let me) so I will make only a big recommendation for the following artists:

@vogelfreyh

@piaart

@vanmec

@comfysanda

@nocterish/@nocturnal-birb

@sirlsplayland

@risunsky

@blanchebees

@mardyart

@meowsaidmissy

@forgelokid

@novaiisk

@nekronyancer

@delulluart

@yollur

@quaildoodle

@oranpo

@doodleshrimps

@kabukiaku

@thew0man

@blackbird5154

Please, check all of them. They deserve all the recognition they can get. I adore how much love and effort they put in their art, WIPS or whaterver they decide to make. Every single one of them inspires me so much, I cannot explain with words how proud I feel to be able to look at their creations and share a community or even an interest with such talented creators.

👻OTHERS

This is the one that needs more creators. I need to find projects, creators that do other things such as theorising, gifs, big projects, whatever. Please, give me your suggestions and I will check them out and add them in following entries.

For now, I leave you with a couple of amazing people that deserve all the praise:

@stressghoul I honestly follow her EVERYWHERE. I love her tiktoks so much, she is so funny. The Brittany Brosky of the Ghost community you could say.

@slavghoul If you need any questions solved about our dear Satanic papas, go follow Slav. I have never seen a more dedicated person with such an amazing brain, it is honestly so inpiring to see what they have to say every single time. By the way, also check their videos on all the little isolated parts from Ghost songs, does not fail on lifting my feet from the ground as if possessed, every-single-time. You can check all the videos here.

@kabukiaku again??? YES! WHY?! BECAUSE I ADORE HER PAPA PLUSHIES I THINK THEY ARE THE CUTTEST!!!!

Lastly, I wanted to mention a YouTube creator that is making orchestral versions of Ghost songs. I found an orchrestral version of DATHOML on Tiktok and I had to find the whole song. Please check them out because they are doing more and it is amazing. Jamie Turton.

[garbinge]

You, Me, and Italy

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  Italy Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, angsty, mentions of suicide, death, grief, loss, broken heart, drug use, addiction, being high, someone close to ODing, uncomfortable, sad, mentions of sexual situations, it's based on canon mentions of suicide and death and grieving, but a little more in depth. So just be weary of any triggers one might have in reference to these things.

A/N: This is not apart of my Richie Jerimovich multichap. This is heavy. I try and steer clear of fics like this because of my own triggers and trauma around drug abuse and addiction but this just was an idea sitting in my head probably because of all that trauma. The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas

The kitchen was always your favorite place to be when you couldn’t sleep. Something about the ability to hear every single noise in a space where usually you’d be lucky to hear the person next to you speak at a normal tone. 

You had come in through the back, placed your stuff down in the locker that had your name written on a green piece of tape, your insanely patterned bandana was snug around your head just above your forehead, something you always wore when cooking. Now, the sounds of the water running as you washed her hands filled your ears and was followed by the clunks of pulling the knives out, the blade tinging as you set it free from its case. Now slicing, the quick quippy sounds of the thin slices of all the items you needed to prep. Basil, onions, garlic, fig, and parmesan cheese. All the ingredients you picked up from the grocery story that was still open this late. The chopping and the sizzling filled your ears in a similar way that music would fill someone else’s. It kept you grounded, kept you calm, kept you in the moment. 

“Late night snack?” A voice interrupted that tranquility but surprisingly, there was no reaction from your side. You kept steady as your hand tossed the garlic and basil in the olive oil, other hand equipped with a spoon ready to add in the parmesan ricotta mixture. 

“You’re lucky I don’t scare easily.” Your voice was steady as you focused on the pan in front of you. 

Mikey looked down and laughed before he made his way from the office over to his best chef and best friend. He leaned against the prep area, hands crossed as you had your back to him. 

“You should toast the breadcrumbs.” Mikey said as he took in what you were doing. 

Immediately, your head turned to look over your shoulder and shot the man a look. “I’m a one-woman show here, Mikey. I’m getting to it.” 

“You know, I can help you out.” He had crossed his leg over the other now as he waited for a response. “Only if you want to.” His arms were now uncrossed as he raised them in a surrender.

Your head tilted, the only invitation he needed to start helping out. 

“I’m making arancini, fig and garlic arancini.” You specified. 

“Rice balls. You’re making rice balls.” Mikey teased. “What inspired the fig?” He asked as he toasted the bread crumbs at the stove next to you. 

“Remember when we went to that bar the other night?” You looked up at him, despite being a few feet down from you, he still towered over you in height. “While you and Richie were off doing God knows what, I ordered shit from the bar. They had this fig, arugula, and goat cheese pizza.”

“Jesus Christ, what fuckin’ bar were we at?” Mikey laughed at the fanciness of how it all sounded. 

“That place, Porta. I’d say it was more hipster than fancy.” 

“God, I don’t even remember.” Mikey laughed before placing his attention back on you and continuing the conversation. “So the pizza was good?” 

“It was, and I just kept thinking what would go well with fig and landed at a rice ball.” 

“Arancini.” Mikey corrected you with the biggest grin growing on his face. 

A laugh left your mouth as you took the sauce off the heat, wanting it to cool down slightly before pouring it into the egg mixture that was already placed in the fridge. 

The silence fell over the both of you and you both continued to move around the kitchen. Mikey stood with the bowl of rice in his hands, resting it on the prep counter as you stood over and poured in the egg mixture. Mikey was whisking it around rapidly, that way the eggs didn’t scramble. The smell coming from the bowl was filled with savory scents of garlic and sweet touches of fig reduction. 

“You good, buddy?” Mikey was looking at you as he stirred everything around. It wasn’t so much in reference to your current state, which was focused as you concentrated on pouring the egg mixture in, but more in reference to why you were here late. 

Buddy. Such a Mikey term. The two of you knew each other for years, meeting when you were smoking in the back of the restaurant you used to work out. To put it in simple terms, he poached you. He had just grabbed a bite at said restaurant, with his brother Carmy, a detail you found out later since Mikey came alone to the alley in the back where you had been taking a break. He asked if you had made the slow braised beef and proceeded to tell you about his restaurant. You never walked back into that restaurant again and started at The Beef the next day. 

As time passed, things got close with Mikey. The two of you just fed off each other, you vibed effortlessly and one day that led to more. You spent a majority of the night locked in the office making a bed out of the table, the floor, the bookshelf, anything that had an inch of a flat surface, Mikey took you. That however, never amounted to more. It was always just sex. There was no label on what the two of you had, no real dates, no holding hands, just stolen moments around the restaurant, late nights in the kitchen, nights out at bars, and overnights spent at each others places. But that never made anything awkward because despite their being no label, everyone knew there was something between you two. It was impossible to miss. The way you two got along, the way you spent every waking moment together, whether you were at the restaurant or not. But what the real dead giveaway was, you two moved in the kitchen like you had perfected a choreographed dance, every, single, time. There was never any missteps, any arguing, no bumping into each other, you just glided by each other, calling out kitchen terms and directions. It was a sight to be seen, everyone thought so. Including the family. Sugar and Carmy were impressed when you came by for the first time maybe a month into starting at The Beef. Richie had already seen how the two of you worked together but both Berzatto siblings were shocked by it. 

“Hey, you good?” Mikey repeated himself and bent down a little to look into your eyes. 

“Yea, sorry.” You shook your head from your thoughts. 

“I don’t buy it.” Mikey pressed you again for more information. “What’s with late night rice balls?” 

“You ever feel stuck?” There was no point in trying to hide what you were feeling from Mikey. 

“Uh, just every day of my life.” You let out a breath through your nose in a sort of chuckle. “I just, wish I could get out of here.” The frustration was littered in your voice. 

“Where would you go?” He set the bowl down now that everything was stirred, and he turned to face you. 

“Anywhere.” You turned too so you were facing him. 

“So let’s go.” His voice raised, like what he said and meant didn’t need planning, didn’t need money, he spoke it outloud like it was the easiest thing to achieve. 

“Yea, where?” You were about to start naming off places around here in Chicago as a joke but he was quick to answer you. 

“Italy.” 

You frowned but a smile was growing on your face. “Italy?” You questioned. 

“Yea, let’s go to Italy, we’ll eat all the rice balls in the fuckin’ country, we’ll learn how to make ‘em like a true Italian. We’ll eat our way around Rome, Sicily, Naples, it’ll be great, just me and you and Italy.” He was so energetic in how he spoke, his hands were in the air, his voice was echoing off the kitchen walls. 

“You, me, and Italy?” You questioned him as your head nodded in agreement. 

“You, me, and Italy.” Mikey nodded with the biggest smile on his face. 

____

Time might’ve passed and a lot of things might’ve changed, but sometimes stayed exactly the same. You were pushing through the back door of The Beef, bag and kitchen tools in hand as the clock ticked past 1AM. 

“Mikey?” You called out, expecting to see him appear in the kitchen. You called out again and heard nothing. It was odd, but also maybe not. He had been distant lately, you picked up on that when most nights he didn’t come back to your place. You knew things had been tough for him, he was having money issues and as a result moved back in with his mother, he was stressed. Every time you did get the chance to see him, he wasn’t fully there, sometimes you’d taste alcohol on his breath, others you could tell his mind was caught in a thought or 20. 

Moving to the lockers, you saw the door open just slightly and the lamp on illuminating a ton of paperwork. You saw his hand resting on the table and slowly peaked in. 

Now, you had your suspicions, they were probably more than suspicions, you knew. You knew Mikey was hooked on something. But you didn’t want to accept it. But there it was, slapping you right in the face. It had been functional, he had been functional, which is what made it easy for you to question, for you to say nothing. After tonight, you’d regret it, you’d regret staying silent, not giving in to your suspicions, voicing them out loud. 

You took in the sight of him, he was so out of it, you could see his glazed over eyes even from the distance you were at. The giveaway as if everything else wasn’t so obvious was the pills scattered all over the paperwork in front of him. 

“Mikey.” The urgency hit you just as much as the the scene of him. You were next to him in seconds, shaking him awake. 

The smile that filled his face as he stared at you, the smile that warmed your heart, the smile that melted you, the smile of your best fucking friend was breaking you. 

“What–what’re you doin’ here?” 

“How much did you take, Mikey?” You moved forward to the table to search for a bottle, a pill count, see how many were on the table, but Mikey’s hands began to grab your arms. 

“No, no, no, no, no. Stop, you’re ruining the fun.” Mikey complained, his voice was slurred. 

You pulled back immediately, uncomfortable and unsure what to do. Your heart was beating fast and before your tears could even start falling, Mikey started yelling. “You’re ruining the fun!!” It was a repetition of what he had said before and all it did was secure your feet frozen to the ground. “That’s all anyone ever does anymore. Ruin the fucking fun.” He spun in the swivel chair like a child and when it stopped spinning he looked at the bookshelf and began speaking again, but this time more at a whisper. 

“Even my own fuckin girl. I can’t have anything.”  

You snuck out the door, searching for your phone in your pocket. The irony that in your hastiness, you spent more time looking for it than if you searched for it with purpose and patience. 

As you picked your phone up to your ear, your hand was shaking. “C’mon, pick up, pick up.” You mumbled, taking your other hand to pick at your lip. 

“It’s 1 in the fuckin’ morning, I’m neck deep in shit diapers, if this is you and Mikey asking me to go out, I’m blocking your number for eternity.” Richie seemed stressed in a completely different way. 

“Richie, it’s Mikey, he uh, I don’t know, there’s pills, he’s awake–sort of?, he’s angry, I don’t know how much he took but he, he uh, I just need help, I need you down here, can you get down here, please?” The shakiness in your voice was the dam holding back your tears. 

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Keep him up.” 

With that Richie hung up and you were moving back into the office, you squatted down and turned the chair so he was facing you. “Mikey, babe?” You tried to keep your voice soft. His red, glossy eyes met yours as he plopped his head down to look at you. 

“My girl.” A little bit of hope filled his face, he reached his hand up to cup your face. The impulse to pull away was strong but you stayed there, you stayed there with him and let him speak to you. 

“You’re so pretty, you know that? So pretty. And you’re so talented, you can throw down, you know that? Best fuckin slow braised beef I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” 

The amount of compliments he was giving you, it should’ve had you elated, floating, with butterflies but instead it was making you sick–uneasy. And you just had to sit there and let him say it, over and over again. You were counting in your head, hoping that once you got to the 10th 60th second count, that Richie would be here. 

“Hey hey hey, you listening to me?” Mikey moved slightly to look at you, even in his fogged state he could tell your mind was elsewhere. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared into his eyes. 

“You, me, and Italy, baby. You, me, and Italy.” The second time he said it, it was in a whisper like he was desperate for it to be true. Like if he said it low enough the world would grant him the wish. That’s when you really saw him, saw what was happening in his brain. Alongside that hopeful look was one of peace and happiness. The absolute gut wrenching emotion you felt in your heart when you realized it. How being high set Mikey free, set him free from his demons, in some weird twisted way this was the closest you’ve seen Mikey to his usual self. 

Before your heart could break anymore, you heard Richie’s voice behind you and he was slipping into your spot and picking Mikey up.

______

“You know I remember this one time, we went over to Mikey’s place, the one on Courtyard, me, Carm, and Richie, and it was Sunday, Braciole night. We walk in, Mikey’s got the game playing so loud in the background, we start prepping, cooking. I remember he told me not to put raisins in the braciole even though that’s how mom did it. And he just, he had this smile on for those first 30 minutes, like he had something planned, like he was in on the joke. But the thing is none of us knew what the joke was. And then, the door opened, we were all confused at who it was and then, this woman appeared. Mikey introduced her to us, he was so happy, and we were like shocked, cause Mikey, our big brother, the player, brought this girl over to our fucked up family Sunday night dinner. She didn’t care that the TV was loud, that we were even louder, that Mikey and Richie would tell the most insane stories, over and over again, and in fact, she moved around the kitchen like, well, like she’d known us all our whole lives. I don’t know if I ever saw Mikey so happy.” Sugar was sitting in bed, her phone on speaker while you sat silent on the other line. 

“You at the restaurant?” Sugar cleared her throat. 

“Standing right outside it.” You spoke up, trying to hide your tears from the story Sugar just told. 

“I’ll be there soon.” There was rustling on the other side of the phone, like she had started to get up and get ready. 

“Sugar?” You questioned, worried she was about to hang up. 

“Hm?” She hummed. 

“Thank you.” It was two words but sometimes you needed to hear it. How much Mikey loved you, he didn’t tell you often, but you felt it, you saw it. But now, that he was gone, that all that was left of Mikey for you was the things he left at your place, the memories you shared, you took the antidotes Sugar occasionally told you and kept them someplace special. 

“I’ll see you in the chaos.” Sugar replied back to you in which you did the same. 

For a few seconds after the phone call, you stood there, staring at the gutted restaurant, staring at the mayhem happening behind the glass, which was normal for the restaurant, whether it was in business or not. But right now, standing outside, in the peace of the quiet reminded you of those late nights in the kitchen, and you were destined to hold onto that peace for just a few more minutes. 

Eventually, you joined the chaos. Greeting everyone as you made your way through the renovation. Finding yourself getting swept up into something in the immediate first seconds you entered the front door. After an hour or so, when you wrapped up your job in the front, you made your way to the kitchen.  

“What’re you doing?” You placed your stuff down in the office as you walked past Richie, Fak, and Marcus who were gathered around someone’s phone watching a video, arguing back and forth. Natalie stood up from the chair in the office and placed a hand on your shoulder in a half greeting and walked over to the arguing men. Your eyes lingered on the office table and chair a little longer than normal, letting the memories flood into your brain for a short few seconds before you turned to put your attention back on everyone. 

“Scraping and painting and fighting over moving the lockers.” Marcus spoke up. 

You turned around and stepped out of the office, staring at them trying to attempt to move the lockers. Carmy had appeared now, yelling at them to keep it down and when the mention of Mikey’s locker still being locked was announced, that’s when everyone silences. 

“Just fuckin’ open it.” Carmy spoke up. 

A hat. June 5th, 2010. Taste of Chicago. The booth. 

You smiled at that. You weren’t there for the booth, but you heard all about it. From the family, but from Mikey, it was one of the many stories he’d tell you over and over and honestly, you’d do anything to hear him tell it 200 more times. 

Carmy handed the hat to Richie, and as he turned around his eyes fell on your. 

“Yo, uh, I got something for you.” He said and walked right past you into the office, searching for something. As everyone went back to working, you turned and took a few steps towards Carmy as he moved the papers around looking for something. 

“So, uh, we’re sending Ebra and Tina to culinary school, for them to stay sharp, learn some new shit, and uh, I–we, Syd and I figured you didn’t want or honestly really need that, so uh–here!” He proclaimed the last word louder than the rest as he found the envelope with your name written on it and handed it to you. 

You looked down at it for a second and then back at Carmy, you two didn’t talk much in general, but you definitely didn’t talk much about him. 

“You and Syd…” You started to say as you mindlessly tapped the envelope against your skin. “You uh,” You wanted to say that the two of them reminded you a lot of you and Mikey, the effortlessness in the kitchen, the way their ideas just bounced off each others and how they brought this new sense of life to each other. But it was that last thought that weighed heavy on you. There was a point that Mikey brought a new sense of life to you and you did the same to him but unfortunately that emotion, that feeling, had changed at some point, at no ones fault but it didn’t stop you from not cherishing it more. “Just, don’t take it for granted.” 

“Yea, yea.” Carmy nodded, getting where you were coming from but also not really wanting to get into it and you were okay with that because you didn’t want to get into it either. 

Carmy’s eyes moved down to the envelope and back to you. Taking the hint you nodded. “Right.” You said quickly and began to rip the envelope open. As your hand reached in and pulled out the papers in the envelope, you saw the word United and then followed by a seat and time and that’s when you saw the airports. 

ORD – NAP

Naples International Airport. 

“Carmy.” You looked up, eyes shocked. 

“It’s what Mikey would’ve wanted.” Carmy nodded and walked by you, taking his hand to rest on your shoulder and then tap it as he exited the office. 

You stared down at the tickets, trying to take in everything. 

“You, me, and Italy, Mikey.”  

[artiststarme]

I've seen a few people talking about how cool a hellfire 'adopting' steve fic would be and since youre my favorite steddie writer I immediately thought of you. If you want to, I think you'd write that situation really well

Thank you! I'm really glad that you like reading my fics and I hope this meets your expectations!

~*~*~*~

​​Eddie was long in the business of collecting lost sheep. He himself knew what it was like to be alone, to be ostracized and isolated for being a little bit too different in a town as bland as Hawkins. So whenever he could, he tried to help people. He looked for those that needed support the most and tried to befriend them because he knew what it was like to go through life without it. If he could be the shepherd needed to guide the lost sheep, he would. 

In the late fall of Eddie’s senior year, something happened that no one could have predicted, an event so shocking that it shook the entire town. All of Hawkins was in a state of surprise, and all of the students at the high school were rattled. Steve Harrington had lost his title of King. He went from having throes of close friends and confidants at the top of the social hierarchy to having no one and resting at the bottom. 

Eddie didn’t know what had happened over a single weekend to make King Steve lose everything but when he saw him sitting all alone at one of the empty tables in the corner at lunch, exiled by his peers and poking at his food, Eddie felt compelled to step in. 

He stood up from his seat at the head of the Freak table with his eyes still on Steve. He took one step before a hand grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. 

“What are you doing?” Gareth hissed at him, trying to plant him back in his seat. 

“I’m going to go talk to Steve.”

“Harrington? What the hell is the matter with you? Are you insane? He was bullying us just last week!” Grant whisper-yelled at him. 

“Okay, no he wasn’t,” Eddie defended. “He didn’t say anything and he told Tommy H to leave us alone when he was messing with us.”

That didn’t seem to help his case as much as he thought it would and he sighed. “Look guys, something obviously happened to him since he’s sitting there alone and picking at a bag of peanuts while all of his old friends are ignoring him and enjoying their lunches. We don’t judge here and we don’t know Steve enough to form an accurate opinion. So, I’m going to go get him and you’re all going to be nice. I have a feeling he needs that right now.”

His friends blinked at him wordlessly and he nodded. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’m going to go get him.”

And with that, he stalked over to the fallen king with the entire student body glaring at him in appall. He stopped just short of Steve’s chair and flashed his biggest grin at him. Upon seeing Steve’s concern however, he muted his grin into something less ‘I’m a maniac’ and more ‘you should be my friend’. 

“Hey Harrington, how are you today?” Eddie asked him. 

Steve just blinked up at him for a moment. His eye was bruised and his cheekbone was bloody. He looked like utter shit and that was saying something coming from Eddie. 

“Um, I’m alright. How are you?”

Eddie’s smile brightened, “I’m great! How are you?”

“Still alright? Can I help you with something?” Steve asked him in confusion. 

“Yes, I saw you over here by your lonesome and decided to sequester you to my table instead. Your former court doesn’t deserve to feast on the sight of your suffering.” Eddie may have gone a little bit overboard on that one. 

Steve squinted at him. “Dude, I might still have a concussion but that didn’t make any sense at all.”

“You have a concussion?” Eddie asked in concern.

“Um, yeah. Byers has a mean right hook. He’s tougher than people give him credit for, I guess.”

“Byers? Like Jonathan Byers?” Eddie’s eyes widened. What the fuck had he done to piss of Jonathan ‘The Wallflower’ Byers?

“No, his little brother Will. Yes, Jonathan Byers,” Steve snarked sassily. 

“Jesus Christ, I did not know he had it in him. He looks more like a lover than a fighter, you know?”

“Not really?” Steve shook his head slightly. 

“Anyways, I feel like we’ve bonded. So since we’re friends now, do you want to come sit at my table? We hoard chocolate pudding, gossip about the popular kids, and play the amazing fantasy game that Christian mothers everywhere like to hate. You in?”

Steve watched him for a moment before biting his lip in thought. “How much chocolate pudding are we talking?”

“Tons. Grant’s mom is the lunch lady so we have a near endless supply and an ally on the dark side. We also get extra apple juice and all of the carrots one could ever want. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” That was a bit of an over-exaggeration considering Grant had to steal her work key to get them the food but it was still kind of true. 

Steve grabbed his bag of chex mix and his backpack and stood toe to toe with Eddie. “Now that’s an offer that I can’t refuse. Lead the way, Munson.”

Eddie smiled, he’d added another lost sheep to his herd. “After me, Harrington!”

They both stalked across the now-silent lunch room back to his table. Jeff, Gareth, and Grant were looking up at the two of them in surprise like they hadn’t expected his amazing personality to win over Steve Harrington. 

“Alright, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. Boys, this is Steve. Steve-O, take a seat!” Eddie announced boisterously. He pushed Gareth off his chair and motioned for Steve to take it. “Oh, look! An empty chair right next to my seat! Steve, you can sit right here!”

He saw Steve give a sympathetic look to Gareth but he sat down regardless. Eddie planted a cup of chocolate pudding right in front of him and smiled deviously. “Now Steve, what do you know about Dungeons & Dragons?”

“Um, I know that the kids I babysit like to play it and it’s some sort of storytelling game with lots of math?” he muttered.

Eddie just gasped along with the rest of Hellfire. “‘Some sort of storytelling game’? That’s the worst possible way you could’ve described it, Harrington! It’s not a game, it’s an experience!”

All three of the guys defended it at once.

“I can’t believe he just said that!”

“Lots of math? It’s a reasonable amount!”

“Next he’s going to say he doesn’t know what a dungeon master is!”

“Oh is that some sort of dice?” Steve asked them in confusion. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the guys muttered.

“No, I’m the Dungeon Master. I tell-” Eddie tried to explain. 

“Sounds kinky.”

“What the fuck-” Eddie yelled. Looking at the smile on Steve’s face, he knew that bringing him into Hellfire's fold was a good idea. He was a little concerned at just how easy he was riling up the guys but he had a good feeling about this sheep. Very good, indeed.

(Eddie starts dating him two weeks later after Steve lets it slip that he knows what a paladin is. How is Eddie not supposed to kiss him when he made his way to his little nerd heart?)