#when they’ve been pretty good about hitting the major bits before now

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy 💫

warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution 🩷

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A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.

dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.

B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

unsurprisingly, jason has some…issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.

dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.

C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.

let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.

D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.

this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.

E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.

we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).

F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.

dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.

G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesn’t treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.

dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.

H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.

dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.

I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.

he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.

J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.

dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.

K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.

say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant…now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.

L | Location (favorite places to do the do)

if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.

the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.

M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.

dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?

N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.

I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.

O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.

you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.

P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.

dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.

Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.

if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.

R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.

dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.

S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.

dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.

T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.

ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.

U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.

dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.

V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.

dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.

W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).

dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.

X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.

‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips…you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.

Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens…often.

dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.

Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.

he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hi hello i wasn’t expecting to write barzy long fic but those damn musician mat photos KILLED me. also yes, i started this fic literally the day after the photos were posted but here we are. it needed major editing and also i need to like sit on it for a bit before posting. ANYWAY it’s here and i’m happy with it? i hate the title but whatever, it is what it is. enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🫶🏻

word count: 4.3k

tw: semi-public fingering but doesn’t go all the way, public thigh grinding

summary: hanging out in a dive bar on long island, the last thing you expect to see is mat with a guitar over his shoulder, joining the cover band on stage

When you look up from responding to a text and Mat’s nowhere to be found, you’re not really that surprised. He does this a lot - gets distracted and wanders off. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered by a fan, smiling gamely for a selfie and chatting for a bit. Every once in a while he gets roped into a game of pool, chatting with the random men like he’s known them for years. Once in a bar in the city, and this one nearly killed you, he struck up a conversation with Aaron Tveit - your favorite Broadway star and secretly a man that you absolutely would use a hall pass on - without realizing that he was talking to someone more famous in certain New York circles than he is.

All this to say, Mat disappearing in the bar isn’t a totally unprecedented occurrence.

You set your phone back down on the high top table and lean a shoulder against the wall next to you, crossing your legs at the ankle and taking a sip of your High Noon. It’s warm-ish now, starting to taste more artificial, and you look over your shoulder at the bar, scrutinizing the crowd that’s gathered and waiting for the bartender to notice them. It’s not worth it to leave the table since it’ll be snatched up in a second, so you flip your phone over and use your index finger to tap out a quick message to Mat asking him to get you another drink when he gets back from wherever he wandered off to - at this point you’re assuming there’s a major line for the men’s room. The little blue bubble floats up and shows it was delivered. Satisfied, you lean back against the wall, scooping your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand and holding it in a lazy ponytail so your neck can cool off a bit.

Long Island is a humid, swampy mess, August slipping away into a moment in time, as Queen Taylor says. But September is doing her damnedest to remind everyone that she’s still a summer month too.

Not that you mind, having been born and raised on Long Island and intimately familiar with the weather extremes, but it’s particularly gross in the bar tonight. Sweaty bodies packed in for the 90s alt cover band that’s supposed to be playing tonight. They’ve played at the bar before and they’re pretty good you have to admit, but right now you’re just wishing for a little bit of a breeze.

Giving up on your hair, you twist it up into a messy knot, securing it with a thin black elastic that’s seen better days. Three loops around thick hair, and you know it’s going to snap before the night is over, but you can’t worry about that now. There’s immediate relief from pulling your hair off your neck and now you can focus on the fact that Mat’s actually been missing for more than a few minutes. You tap your phone screen, looking for a message, but there’s nothing from him, just a few messages in the girls’ group chat talking about Monday night’s poker event. Wrinkling your nose, you look around the bar again, trying to see if you can spot your boyfriend.

It’s too dark though, Mat’s hair and black tee would blend in with the crowds. After a few more minutes of looking, you give up, rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, “he better not have found Aaron Tveit again,” before taking another sip of your High Noon. The spark of grapefruit flavour hits the back of your tongue and you pinch your lips together, swiping at your lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Drops of condensation roll down the can, making your hand wet and you wipe your palm on the fabric of your dress, already a little sticky with sweat.

Bored without Mat, you reply to the group chat and scroll through Instagram, double tapping on a photo Sofia posted of Olivia and commenting a string of heart eyes emojis. While you’re on your phone, the band takes the stage, a group of older men that have clearly been on the circuit for a while now. You start to swipe over to the phone app, ready to call Mat and find out where he went, when another man comes out onto the stage - this one much younger, much more handsome, and much more familiar to you.

“What?” The shocked gasp falls out of your mouth and either you’re louder than you thought or Mat just has radar to tell where you are at any given moment, because he looks over as he’s adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder and winks at you, his mouth curling up in that familiar cocky smirk you know and love.

Mat’s been fooling around on the guitar for years now and he’s gotten half-way decent in that time, but you had no idea he was feeling confident enough to play in front of a packed bar. Or that he knew the band well enough to ask or be asked to join.

The lights over the stage dim and brighten simultaneously and the band gets into position, drumsticks clicking together to signify the start of the set. In your excitement and rush to grab your phone so you can record Mat, you nearly knock over your drink, catching it at the last second. Mat grins at you again and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, looking down at the guitar to position his fingers. You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle the excited noises that start when the band begins to play - you want to make sure that the video you record has Mat’s playing, not your squeaks and cheers. He looks a little nervous at the start, focused intently on her fingers and the guitar strings, but as the song goes on, Mat gets more into it and relaxes.

The phone shakes in your hand a little from your excitement and the inevitability of you bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet as you get into the music too. Mat’s hair falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, long at his neck, and a flush of heat spreads through your stomach. He’s stupidly attractive up on stage, playing his guitar, and you’re ready to jump him. You lean up a little on your toes to get a better angle, the hem of your dress fluttering around your thighs. Mat looks up while he plays and spots you again. You move your hand from your mouth and grin brightly at him. He responds with another delighted smirk, shaking his hair out of his face.

Around you, the crowd is into the cover, singing along when they know the lyrics and dancing in that lazy way people dance in dive bars. You catch a few mentions of Mat’s name, eyes landing on a handful of younger girls that are staring openly at him and recording. You bite down on your lower lip to prevent the self-satisfied smirk from forming. There’s something extremely satisfying knowing that all these girls are thirsting over Mat, but you get to go home with him.

Mat shakes his hair back again and scrunches his nose up while he plays and the girl closest to you nearly yelps, “fuck, he’s so hot with that hair.”

Her friend chimes in with, “it’s giving Nathan Scott season four minus the depression.”

The first girl replies, “it’s going to be such a crime when he has to cut it for the season.” She’s not wrong - you always hate when Mat does the Lou-approved chop at the end of the summer.

You muffle a laugh behind your hand and focus on Mat’s playing. The song winds down and his grin is immediate and genuine. He shakes the hands of each of the guys and claps them on the back before wandering off the stage. You stop the recording and set your phone back down on the table, clapping and cheering along with the crowd. The band starts back up again and you bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for Mat to find you.

He ducks through the crowds, still grinning, and appears in front of you suddenly. Before he can say a word, you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and slanting your lips over his. One of Mat’s arms wraps around your lower back, holding you flush against the front of his body. You grin against his mouth - he tastes like peach flavored High Noon, chapstick, and the salt of his sweat. Mat’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you do, deepening the kiss and twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed up by your lips. The kiss lingers and fades out as you pull back for air, but then Mat ducks forward and kisses you softly. Your forehead rests against his and you exhale a little giggle.

“Hi, babe,” he laughs, whole face crinkled up in delight when he pulls back, one arm still looped around your waist. You can feel his hand tremble against your waist, betraying nerves or leftover adrenaline from his stint on stage.

“Oh my god! You loser!” You laugh, pushing at his shoulder with the palm of your hand. Mat grabs your wrist with lightning quick reflexes and flexes his fingers around your wrist, tightening gently before he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss your pulse point. Your breath stutters in your chest, but you continue, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to play!”

Still holding your wrist, Mat steps closer and shakes his head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I went to the bathroom, sort of got talking with the band,” he shrugs, “it just happened.”

“It just happened!” you echo on a laugh. “Well you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Mat ducks his head, ears going a little pink underneath his hair. He releases your wrist and scrapes his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands holding in place. Your back bumps against the wall and you realize Mat’s still crowding your body, one muscled thigh in between your legs. You hook an ankle around his, dragging his leg a little closer and the faint smile on his lips becomes more salacious, hungry. He leans his hand against the wall next to your head, caging you in. Your stomach flips and heat coils low, throbbing between your legs.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip and Mat’s gaze traces the movement, eyes darkening in a familiar way. His palm is flat over the curve of your hip, but his fingers curl up a little, capturing the cotton fabric of your dress and tugging the fabric up a little. A flutter of a breeze hits your upper thigh.

“Maybe you should quit hockey,” you giggle a little, blinking lazily, “and play guitar full time.”

“Yeah?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think amateur guitar playing is as lucrative as professional hockey.” His fingers twist in your dress more, making you glad that he has you backed against the wall and blocked with his body. He leans in, pressing his leg against your inner thigh, knocking it out an inch or so, widening your stance. Your entire body flushes with heat and it has nothing to do with the humid bar atmosphere.

Your head lolls back, hitting lightly against the wall, and you hum. “It’s really fucking hot though,” you murmur, tipping your head up so you can press a kiss to the edge of his chin. “All that fingering,” you giggle the innuendo, finding it cheesy even as you say it.

Mat huffs a laugh against your temple. His fingers loosen their grip in the fabric of your dress, letting the damp and sure to be wrinkled fabric fall back against your thigh. “I already have a fingering side-gig,” he informs you, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. He presses the pads of his fingers up against the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp, jolting your hips forward. He strokes the fabric slowly, dropping kisses against your temple and down the side of your face. He works you over through the fabric, sticky arousal collecting between your legs. The lace surely can’t be doing much at this point and Mat’s fingers slide over your inner thighs. His calloused fingertips catch and snag on the lace, stuttering his work and making your clit throb.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna let you touch me after that line,” you laugh, choking off into a little gasp when Mat snaps the elastic of your panties against the crease of your thigh.

“You started it,” he reminds you, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. His forehead touches yours as his fingers continue their exploration, trailing up and dipping under the waistband of your panties. Your stomach clenches when he stops inches from where you really want him and you bump his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to start things you can’t finish,” he warns, pressing closer to you, sliding his fingers lower. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline from the effort of keeping your legs from trembling.

You let out a harsh exhale. “Mat,” you mumble his name, grabbing at his wrist with both hands, trying to force his hand lower. He shakes his head against yours and doesn’t budge, your muscle strength no match for his. “We’re in public.” As if to punctuate your sentence, the drummer goes into a solo, the beat of the sticks on the drums pounding in time with your heart.

His fingers curl briefly and then they’re gone, leaving you cold and hot and frustrated. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. There’s an infuriating smirk on his face when you manage to look up. “I’ll behave.” He flips the hem of your dress down and smooths his palm over the fabric.

“I…what…Mat!” You stutter, the throbbing between your legs pounding in time with your heart. “You can’t just…” your voice trails off and you press your thighs together - or try to at least - Mat’s muscled leg is still in between yours and prevents you from giving yourself any relief.

Your absolute menace of a boyfriend holds his index finger - the one that had just been making a home in between your legs and is still wet with your arousal - up to his lips and shushes you. “Shh, I’m trying to listen to the music,” he smirks, sliding his other hand down the wall behind you and wrapping it around your shoulders, easily manhandling you so your back is leaning against his chest while he leans against the wall. You’re so stunned by the delayed pleasure that you don’t resist at all. Mat reaches around you and picks up your half-empty High Noon and knocks it back, holding the can lightly and sliding his arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, forearm pressed against your stomach. His broad palm rests on your opposite hip, blunt nails scratching lightly and absently.

He hums along to the music in your ear and you sink back against his chest, still frustrated, muttering, “I can’t believe you shushed me.” Mat exhales a little laugh and kisses the side of your neck, scraping his teeth against your pulse point. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck and you drop it back against his shoulder, giving Mat easier access to kiss your cheekbone. “Take me home,” you whine quietly, silently willing Mat’s hand to drift lower, but it remains stubbornly planted on the jut of your hip bone.

Mat’s nose bumps against your temple and you catch the scent of his cologne, mixed with the citrusy sweet alcoholic scent of the High Noon on his breath. He lazily rolls his hips forward, the hard bulge of his erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You grind back against him, whining low in the back of your throat. “Mat, please, I wanna go home,” you mumble, the vibration of the music rattling through your chest. Your hands wrap around Mat’s forearm, squeezing. “C’mon, take me to bed.”

“Babe,” Mat’s arm tightens around you, pulling you harder against his erection. You push your ass into him again, nearly grinding over the thigh that’s still in between your legs, desperate for relief. He holds you in place. “Thought we were in public?” His voice is slightly strangled, his breathing hitching when you press back harder, slipping a hand behind your back and in between your bodies. It takes a second, but you manage to wiggle your hand into place, pressing the heel of your palm, hard, against the fly of his jeans. Mat sucks in a sharp breath and he pinches your hip in warning, his head dipping down and his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a matching warning nip. You hiss at the sting of his teeth, knowing there’s going to be a mark there in the morning when he sucks gently at the spot, tracing his tongue over the faint impressions of his teeth.

“We don’t have to be,” you murmur, brushing your knuckles against the ridge of his erection. “You have a very nice car that can get us home in twenty minutes.”

Mat’s breath is harsh in your ear, the empty can in his hand making a crunching noise when he crumples it in his fist. Your arm is starting to go a little numb, twisted behind your back and pressed in between your bodies, and you’re desperately hoping Mat gives up and gives in to what you want soon. His hand flexes over your hip and you grind down on his thigh again, hiccuping a breath at the drag of his jeans and your lacy panties over your swollen clit. Faintly, you wonder if you’re causing a scene, if people are watching you both, but Mat’s hands aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be and your grind on his thigh could easily be mistaken for drunken dancing.

“Think you can wait twenty minutes, babe?” Mat jerks his hips into your ass, tossing the can back onto the table top and wrapping his other arm around your stomach so you’re caged against him. You wiggle your hand out from behind your back just before it’s completely lost feeling. “Moving pretty good on my thigh,” he bounces it lightly, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Think you could get off like this?”

Yes, is your immediate thought.

You have and can use Mat’s thick, muscled thigh to get yourself off. Most recently two nights ago, lazily grinding yourself over him on the couch while half-heartedly watching a movie. But tonight, with alcohol and lust fogging your brain and the image of Mat’s capable fingers working the guitar strings, you don’t want his thigh.

“Wan’ your fingers,” you turn your head and press the tip of your nose against the side of his neck, nuzzling him. He smells so fucking good. Mat chuckles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so good with your fingers.” Your hands cross your stomach, covering his hands, and you play with his fingers, lacing them with yours.

“You’re good at getting what you want,” Mat grins and you can feel the lift of his cheek against the side of your head. He squeezes you in a hug once, tightly, before loosening his grip. “You gotta walk in front of me to the car, babe. Hide the evidence of what you do to me, don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Your heart kicks up its tempo in your chest and you lift your head from Mat’s shoulder. “Home?” You ask brightly, wiggling and turning in Mat’s arms, your own coming up to loop around his neck.

“Yeah, home,” he laughs, smirking, cupping your cheek with one large hand and dragging your face up to his for a deep kiss. His hips roll mindlessly against yours and you lift higher on your toes to press flush against him, the throbbing between your legs building. When he breaks the kiss off, there’s a mischievous little gleam in his eyes and a slightly mean curl to his lips. “But you don’t get to touch. I’m gonna practice on you, okay, babe?” He taps his fingertips against your cheek, “just these. Gonna practice my finger placement.” Mat’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, obscuring the usual hazel-green color.

Your head bobbles up and down in an agreeable nod. You’ll agree to almost anything just to get Mat’s fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You also know that he’s a total softie and as much as he tries to act stern and tough, once you get into bed with him it’s only a matter of time before he gives up the act and gives you whatever you want. Honestly, you’re both too horny for each other to really commit to the bit. Plus, you roll your hips up into Mat’s, based on the rock hard erection he’s sporting, you’re not even sure Mat’ll be able to keep to the promise of giving you only his fingers.

His hand slides back from your cheek and tangles in the messy bun knotted at the nape of your neck, gently pulling so your face tilts up. “Let’s get out of here,” he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth and turning you around swiftly, one hand resting on your lower back to push you in front of him and through the crowd. You reach back and tangle your fingers with his free hand, a zap of excitement running up your spine when Mat’s hand slides lower and grabs a handful of your ass.

You’re navigating the crowd with Mat hot on your heels, purposely stepping on the backs of your sandals and laughing when you whip your head around to glare at him. His hand flexes against your lower back, warm through the cotton, and he uses his hand in yours to pull you back slightly so your ass bumps against his groin. “Gotta move a little faster, babe,” he teases.

“You’re a fucking menace, Mathew,” you grumble, a laugh startling out of your chest when Mat finally urges you out the front door and crowds you up against the front of the bar. Heat pools low in your stomach and you lick your lower lip reflexively. Mat grins down at you and ruffles a hand through his hair. It’s messy, the little wings sticking out around his ears and neck, and all you want to do is tangle your fingers in it and pull while he eats you out. And you tell him so, watching with delight as his eyes glaze over a little and his mouth goes slack.

“Why the fuck are we still standing here then?” He asks, voice a little strangled.

A giggle slips past your lips. “You tell me, Van Halen.” Your hands slide up Mat’s arms and over his shoulders so your fingers can twist in his hair. Mat hisses when you tug gently. “Why aren’t we in the car or at home where you can get those talented fingers knuckle deep in me?”

Mat groans your name and drops his forehead to your shoulder, growling a little against your overheated skin. His hands slide to your waist, gripping tightly. You grin wickedly, even though he can’t see it, and tug his hair again. “If you get me home soon, I’ll show off my skills,” you murmur into his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

“Fuck,” Mat grunts, grabbing your hand and nearly yanking your shoulder out of its socket with the force of pulling you down the street to his parked car. Your giggles echo around the quiet street, the humid air enveloping you and making your hair frizz around your temples. At the car, Mat pushes you up against the side, grasping your chin in one hand and kisses you, hard and bruising, his tongue dipping in your mouth. His other hand slides up your dress and he presses his thumb against your clit, the rasp of the lace on your clit providing extra simulation. Your knees go weak and you moan into his mouth, flattening your palms against the side of the car for stability. A rush of heat floods between your legs and the longer Mat’s lips are on yours, the wetter you get. At this point you’re not sure if it’s sweat or arousal that’s dripping down the inside of your thighs. He slides his tongue over your lower lip and rubs his fingers against your damp panties again, eliciting a strangled noise from the back of your throat.

When Mat breaks the kiss, pulling back from your face and breathing heavily, you blink up at him, completely dazed and lust drunk. He kisses the tip of your nose and squeezes the inside of your thigh and you giggle, unable to stop the words from slipping out of your mouth, “are you gonna play Wonderwall before or after I get my orgasms?”

A laugh barks out of Mat’s mouth and he pinches your ass cheek, making you squeal. “Just for that, it’s gonna be before,” he laughs again, reaching behind you to pull open the passenger door. You fold into the seat, making sure to flash Mat a little before yanking the door shut and grinning at him from behind the window.

“Who’s the menace now, babe?” Mat sticks his tongue out at you, laughing, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still you,” you tease back, wrinkling your nose at him, knowing he’s going to be so worked up the more you poke fun at him. “Now get in the car, I’m gonna put Wonderwall on so we can get straight to the fingering practice when we get home.”

[hugmeimtouchdeprived]

Ghost!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Prologue

A little prologue, I guess? I do want to make this into a proper fic, just a bit busy now so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to write.

English isn't my first language and this is my first fic, so please bare with me!

Inspired by @ghouljams's ghost!Ghost fics!

(Yes I did write something for this previously on a different account but ended up deleting it for reasons)

Content warning: MW3 (2023) major spoilers, major character death right at the beginning, not edited because it's 1am and I'm feeling lazy but really want to post this, please let me know if I need to add more, I'm still new to this!

Soap x reader, this one is from Johnny's POV but the next part will be reader's POV.

Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It’s odd, really, how quick it all happened. From defusing a bomb to saving his captain to getting shot. He hadn’t even realized he was dead at first, although it should have been obvious in hindsight. No one could survive being shot in the head from point-blank range like that, not even an elite soldier.

Truly understanding what had happened took a while. Sure, he could see his own limp body on the ground as his teammates stood around him, when it was delicately put in a body bag and carried away, but it didn’t hit him until way later. It was more confusing than anything when he tried to tell them he was alright, that he was right there, and nobody would listen. Nobody would even look at him.

He watched as people came in and out of the tunnel for the next few days, doing their investigations and cleaning up the corpses and the blood, until everything went back to normal. Trains ran by as scheduled, workers hustling about.

Johnny was deep in denial for a long, long time. He can’t be dead, absolutely not. Look, he’s right here! Just- just look at him. Please look at him, say something to him. Why the fuck is everyone ignoring him?

No, actually, it’s just a bad dream. That’s what it is. He’s having a very vivid nightmare, one that feels like it just won’t end. But it will. Definitely. He’s going to wake up at base, or maybe back at his apartment in the city, and he’ll go to work and tell everyone about the weirdly realistic nightmare he just had, and they’ll all have a laugh about it.

But days turn into weeks, and he’s still there. It catches up slowly that this is no dream. He’s not going to simply wake up, not this time. He keeps going between absolute hopelessness and uncontainable rage. How could this happen? Sure he knew the risks of his job, that his life could end with little to no warning at any moment. Still, it’s almost impossible to actually comprehend once it has happened. What will his family think when they get the news? How will his poor mother handle it, if at all?

What about his team? They’re trained soldiers, best of the best. They’ve all lost friends, loved ones, teammates. They’ve seen it all before, surely this is no different. Just another Tuesday. No, they’re a family. At least in Johnny’s eyes. They must miss him, grief in their own ways.

And then there’s Makarov. Johnny can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing. The 141 must still be on his tail, if they haven’t caught him already.

Johnny hopes they give him hell. For everything he’s done, and selfishly, Johnny hopes they make sure to avenge him while they’re at it.

Acceptance of this new reality comes agonizingly slow. Johnny tries to force it, tries to convince himself that it’s okay, it was bound to happen eventually. It just happened sooner than he had dared to hope. But that’s how it goes, people die, the world moves on.

He does eventually move around the underground tunnels. He could leave. At least he’s pretty sure he could if he tried, but he doesn’t want to. Maybe someday, but what good would it do now? Watching his loved ones grieve his passing, wondering how the hell they can go on. Johnny knows he was loved. He is loved. And he is full of love, even if he didn’t always show it in a traditional way. But the people around him definitely knew it, Johnny always made sure of it.

And now he’s alone.

He wanders the underground tunnels, watching the trains rush by. Makes sure to step aside when they do, still afraid of being hit. Refuses to even test it if he’d just pass right through them or other solid objects and surfaces (or maybe he does pass his hand or entire arm through some worker in a bright vest, just to see if he can. It’s not like the man will ever know anyway, despite the cold shiver that seems to go up his spine.)

Finding himself at a platform with people passing by at almost all hours of the day feels like a relief. Nobody will still acknowledge him, but the hustle and bustle fills his days with something, and that’s definitely better than nothing. It’s boring and mundane but feels less lonely. He watches as people rush to work, complain about the weather and how the train is late again, teenagers loitering around and kids playing at their parents’ feet as they wait. Occasionally he’ll see some dramatic show of goodbyes and breakups and arguments and heartbreaks of all kinds. He’ll see reunions, online friends meeting for the first time. Even watched some poor bloke propose to his girlfriend. She had awkwardly declined and quickly hopped on the next train, leaving her boyfriend on the platform. Johnny would have felt bad for the young man, if the couple hadn’t looked like they were on their first date.

He makes stories about people, especially ones who take this route often. Wondering where they’re coming from, where they’re going and why. What the lives of these seemingly regular civilians must be like. The single mom who gets on the train almost every day with two screaming toddlers in tow. The young man always smoking, ignoring the glares and the security telling him off. The old woman who comes by alone, often not even getting on a train and opting to sit near the stairs for a couple hours, a few days a week, just people watching. Just like Johnny, he supposes.

That’s how the first months go by. Johnny isn’t sure how long, there’s no point in keeping count of the days, weeks, months. He’s dead, what’s he going to do with that information? Well, he does keep some track of the days, reading headlines of newspapers and articles over people’s shoulders as they wait, just to keep some track of what’s going on in the world outside the tube network.

Yeah, it’s still boring as hell. Faces passing by, day by day.

Johnny is tempted to leave, or at least see if he can. There’s only so many things to see at a train station until it starts to numb his mind. He could probably see the world. Other than war zones and safehouses and such, that is. Do ghosts go on vacations? Can they go on vacations? Johnny doesn’t know much about what ghosts – at least he thinks he’s a ghost, or a spirit of some kind – like him are capable of. Too many movies and stories about the subject, all so similar but oh so different from one another. Guess there’s no better time than the present to find out, huh?

Those plans of leaving for good are quickly forgotten when something – someone – catches his eye one day. Not even sure why, he feels drawn to her, like a magnet. And after just a few days of seeing her almost daily as she gets on a train in the morning and returns later in the evening, it just doesn’t feel enough for poor lil’ Johnny. Whatever this is, he can't just let her be. Especially when, for a brief moment, he believes she looked at him. Actually looked straight at him.

Well, maybe he will try and leave this tunnel, after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 🌷This was a fairly quick thing, just because I wanted to get this little fic started, and starting a new project is always the hardest part in my experience. Just wanted to get the ball rolling, ya know? Just getting those brainworms out.

Original drabble | Chapter 1

[leahseclipse]

Marry me (Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader)

Warnings: talks of hospital, car crash, blood and wound mentions (no major character death)

Summary: A car crash turns everything into a nightmare. (Based off episode 18 and 19 of S7 of grey's anatomy)

A/N: It's a bit of a random post, but I remembered I had wrote that fic for @imagining-in-the-margins 's wedding challenge, so why not post it! It's really a no beta we die like men in here, so there might be some mistakes. This was based off @fortheloveofwonderland 's prompt 🤗

Word count: 3.7k

As soon as the occasion presented itself, Emily and Y/N did not hesitate a single second to spend the weekend together, far from their home. Windows rolled down, their hands glued together as Emily had the other on the steering wheel, they couldn’t stop freaking out about the simple concept of ‘vacation’.

“How did this even happen? You never get days off. I can’t believe your phone hasn’t started ringing. This is insane.” Y/N moved her right arm around as she spoke.

“Right? I can’t believe it either. It’s been… months.” Emily said.

“We finally have a weekend to ourselves.”

“Just us and the little one.” she said, briefly looking at her when the road was empty. "Let’s enjoy the final weeks before she never lets us rest again.”

“You said it,” she sighed. “We’re going to fuel ourselves with coffee.”

Emily doesn’t answer to that, eyes on the road.

“Is something wrong, Em?”

She blinked, “No, I just… spaced out for a second. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay. That happens. Did you…” Y/N started to say, but the buzz of her phone stopped her. “Oh… He found out.”

“What?”

“Reid. About the… prank we did on him, that’s not going to be good when we come-” she rambled, before Emily yanked her phone out of her grasp; throwing it somewhere behind. Probably in the back seats, not that it matters. Emily wanted this phone away. “What was that?”

“Can you just… this time is for us. You see him all the time, so do I, but he's not here now! It’s just us.”

“Come on, he was just texting. I wasn’t going to stay on my phone all day.” she argued, “I gotta text back at least.” then unbuckles her seatbelt to turn around.

“What are you doing?” Emily yelled.

With her phone in her hand, she yelled back, “I’m answering the text! Calm down, he’s not getting more time than you with me.”

“You make me sound like I’m acting jealous, or something.”

“Are you?” Y/N asked, eyes on her phone.

“It’s kind of difficult not to be when you talk about Spencer so often.”

“He’s my best friend, am I not allowed?” she asked, defensively. Taking a breath, she looked away from her phone. “I am giving all my time to our couple, you, and the human growing inside of me, so I am allowed to do other things, like talk to my friend, just for a minute.” Then she stopped talking. Went back to her phone, and the car was as silent as ever.

It’s never been that silent.

They’ve never been so pissed off at each other, they’ve swore to stop when they had to, calm down and apologize.

There wasn’t any apology.

Just the light sound of y/n’s fingertips hitting the screen. That was pretty much it.

“Marry me.”

That earned a chuckle from her girlfriend.

“I’m serious. Marry me.” Emily said, her voice sounding more serious, which led to Y/N turning to look at her, absolutely stunned. “I want… more.” She looked at her, “I love you more than anything, and what we have is perfect but I want more. I want the commitment, the rings, the married life— everything. With you. So…” she paused. “Marry me.”

Emily kept her eyes set on her, and y/n couldn’t either. Even if she was mad. Even if she didn’t know what to say.

But, something was in the back of her head. When she turned around, she didn’t have time to react.

Neither did Emily, before there was a crash and then everything went black.

++

The first thing Emily registered as her eyes opened was the texture of the airbag against her face. It was stained with blood— her blood. But she didn’t focus long about it, she couldn’t see y/n. She was nowhere near the seat.

As her eyes looked up, she saw her on the hood of the car.

She had gone through the windshield.

“Y/N!” Emily yelled, rushing to get her seatbelt off her as she rushed out of the car towards the front. The front of the car had been completely crushed by the impact when they hit the truck in front of them.

Y/N was on the front of the car, her breathing ragged and fast. She was covered in blood. Things didn’t look so good for her.

She remembered seeing the car. It got closer.

Then it crashed against theirs.

Emily was instantly out of her mind. She yelled at the driver to call for help, then proceeded called for help herself on her phone. “We need someone, right now! There was a crash and-and my girlfriend went through the windshield! You have to come right now!”

This definitely wasn’t what she had in mind for the perfect vacation.

There wouldn't even be any vacation to go on anymore.

++

Emily doesn’t remember what happened before she got off the ambulance, or she just doesn’t want to. She’s probably in shock, she doesn’t know. She thinks she dialed Spencer’s number or sent a message, somewhere through the ride.

She hated him a minute ago, but someone else had to know. No matter what, she can't forget he's the father of their child.

He probably called someone else, her guess would be Derek, or Hotch— or hell, everyone. He probably did, they're part of the family. Of course they'd come.

That is if they’re not already on a case. Not everyone would be able to leave. Just him. She guessed.

Y/N was out of sight as soon as Emily entered. She wasn’t allowed further in the room, simply left to stay outside. She was completely panicked.

Knowing the doctors there didn't help. There were all blurry faces. Just people moving around.

Was it all her fault?

She was the one driving. She didn’t look at the road.

Why would it be empty? It’s not a private road.

She swore it wasn’t there.

Was it?

Emily could register the dried blood on her forehead, the wound was still exposed, she didn’t even let anyone touch it when they saw it. She was too worried about her girlfriend.

If she hadn’t thrown the phone out of her hands she would’ve kept her seatbelt on. Maybe then her injuries wouldn’t have been so bad. Maybe the baby wouldn’t be in danger either.

She couldn’t stop blaming herself for that.

She asked Y/N to marry her, and this truck came out and they crashed right into it.

They didn’t even get to spend a full day together, not one without injuries or worries or yelling or whatever came with Emily’s job. She didn’t think Y/N would ever be the injured one. She never intended to.

It pained Emily to see the state she was in compared to what she had.

All of this because of a stupid phone, and because she had to ask her in marriage in the middle of the road.

She was the one driving.

“Fuck.” Emily said, running her hands in her hair. Next thing she knows, Spencer is walking in, yelling her name.

He’s running towards her, panicked. “What the hell happened Emily? Is she... oh god.”

Y/N was being rushed out of the room.

She seemed worse. Way worse. She had gotten intubated. Fuck, Emily hated herself so much for that phone. Spencer was just there, out of his mind and she didn’t know what to say.

None of them had time to even say a word before she was wheeled out of the room by at least ten doctors, and she was gone again, rushed in an elevator. She was just gone again.

“I asked her to marry me and a truck came out of nowhere.” Emily said, eyes still glued to the elevator’s doors.

“How did she… how did this even happen?” Spencer asked.

“She took her seatbelt off. And she went through the windshield… when we hit that truck.”

“Why on earth did she take it off in the first place?”

“To text you! ” she yelled, facing him. “I got mad because she was talking to you again, and I chucked her phone out of her hands! That’s what happened! I was sick of hearing about you !”

And then the silence fell. They looked at each other, and then she was crying, kneeling down to the floor as her face fell to her hands.

She hated this day.

++

The clock struck midnight, and they still remained sitting in that waiting room. Emily knew it by heart now. The number of seats, the posters on the wall— blood donation, STDs testing, retirement houses, or that damn smiling family on the insurance one. They don’t know how much she wanted to rip their faces out when she could lose what they had on that stupid photo, then there was the same nurse that’s been ‘gossiping’ about her colleague that dated the whole service (as if it were any of her damn business) and she just wished chucking staplers at people’s faces would be legal.

She almost did it, when that nurse was stitching up her face. She wasn’t the nicest one.

To resume, Emily was in a bad mood.

She couldn’t bear hearing or seeing anything.

Not when Y/N’s life was at risk, and when she had the person that caused a part of this in front of her. Technically, it wasn’t Spencer, she was the one that caused her girlfriend to take off her seatbelt, but she did it because she had to text him.

So it’s a quarter (or something) his fault, at least. Maybe.

They haven't talked since her breakdown in the corridor. She just got up and sat and looked away. Looking back at it, it looked like two children after an argument. She felt stupid. Really stupid.

This could have been avoided.

If it wasn’t for these doctors she recognized coming in to see them to lead them to the room where Y/N was, she would’ve fallen asleep. This day had been too exhausting.

"Is there anything new?"

“She's stable for now. We stopped the surgery right now. We were afraid of further damage, so we have to see and wait if she makes it through the next 24 hours to go in again." Derek explained.

"The baby is also doing fine. We'll have to watch her as well." Addison said, before realizing he might have said something he shouldn't have. "Did you not know the…"

"We knew, we knew. It's okay." Emily dismissed.

“Is her state putting any risks on the baby, or the opposite?” Spencer questioned.

“There could be risks, eventually.” she answered.

“Would it be best for the baby to be taken out, then?” Spencer asked.

Addison sighed, “Well, we would need to know…”

“What we want to do.” Spencer interrupted.

"What about her, Spencer? What about what she would want us to do?"

“Why are we even talking about the baby?” Spencer asked, with an aggressive tone.

And then there was silence. Emily turned around, in disbelief.

“Are you being serious?”

“We just need to focus on giving her the best shot she can get.”

“Y/N wants her child !”

“Y/N wants to live.” Spencer insisted on the last word.

“We all want to! But what is it going to be like when she wakes up and her child is gone, Spencer?” Emily snapped.

“And what’s her life going to be like if she’s dead? We can just have another child, but we can’t have another Y/N!”

“Just say you want to fuck her again.” Emily wanted him to admit it, so bad.

“You’re still not over it, aren’t you? It’s not even a big deal. We just had sex a while ago and that’s it.” Spencer defended himself.

“It is a big deal.” Emily said, trying to make him understand.

“It’s not ! That or that kid isn’t! We can just have another one!"

“I can't believe you.”

“You can say what you want, but this is my family. I’m the father, Emily.”

“Do you want a medal for that? You’re not the only man in the world that can make children, in case you didn’t know about it."

“Okay, but in that case, I’m still the one she’s pregnant with. I am the father, you’re nothing!”

“You don’t even care about that baby! You didn’t care at all two minutes ago! That baby is way too young to be born! I don’t know all the risks and all that you know, but I know 23 weeks is not the time.”

“You think I don’t know? I know the risks!”

“Do you ? Because you haven’t been acting like you do.”

“I’m thinking about Y/N! Do you think I don’t care about it too, I’m the father!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You never even wanted that baby in the first place, Emily. You never asked for it, so why do you think you have an opinion on it now?”

“You know what I didn’t ask for? You. You’re nothing, nothing. You’re basically just a sperm donor. This isn’t your relationship, not anymore, so…”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t get to say anything again, this is my family. I am going to say that again, because apparently, you didn’t register it. I am the father, I am. You’re nothing. Just a bystander. You hear me? You're nothing.”

And that was it. Emily stood there, Spencer stood there, the doctors too and nothing else was said.

There was just this wall between them now.

++

After thirty minutes, or so spent in Y/N’s room, crying, looking at her, a bit of crying again, some praying (even if Emily wasn’t even into religion), she decided to step out for a bit to get a coffee, or whatever was available because most of the time, coffee machines at hospital are always broken, it’s a fact.

But if she had to pick a thing she liked in hospitals it would be the coffee, even if it can be bad because nothing compared to the rest. The injuries, being in the hospital or having someone you know hospitalized is the worst.

She doesn’t even know what to do.

She keeps wondering what she’s going to do if her girlfriend doesn’t make it. It’s probably bad to think about the worst already- when she could make it, but she can’t help but think about the other outcome. The worst one.

They haven’t even been together for that long, just about three years. That’s not enough. She needs more time.

Time that could be cut short because she was jealous of a guy she dated ages ago. Just because of that.

Emily can’t even imagine a life without her, she’s truly the first partner she’s been happy with. No one has treated her like Y/N does. She just made her feel special, all the time. Made sure Emily knew she was loved, was happy, she cared about Emily first, no matter what.

No one will ever replace Y/N, she’s sure of it. No one will be as perfect as her.

So, she needs her. She needs her to survive.

Walking through the corridors to the ICU again, she just hoped nothing happened while she was gone. Anything can happen in just a minute, she knows it.

When the room comes back into view, she can see Derek sliding the door shut, talking to Spencer as soon as he turns back to him.

“...soon to tell anything.” the man said. Emily managed to catch enough of the sentence to understand what was going on.

“She didn’t respond at all?” Spencer asked. Emily could hear the panic in his voice, along with the tugging on his fingers to probably calm his nerves.

“All she did was open her eyes. We tried making her follow commands but… nothing.” He responded. “Like I said, it’s just too soon to tell.” he ended, leaving with a polite nod after a short glance to the both of us.

“No good news for now. Great.” Emily said after the short silence that followed after the doctor’s departure. She shot a look at Reid, before sliding the room’s door open, shutting it after her.

He must have gone in when Emily was gone, so she assumed it was fine for her to walk in.

She sat by the chair, sighing at her girlfriend, still on that bed, the only thing moving being her chest, aside from all these machines around her. Beeping. Beeping. Beeping.

She wishes Y/N was moving something else, that she could be awake and talking.

It’s a few minutes before Emily stopped just staring and started talking, “Maybe he’s kind of right you know. He… might be, because legally I’m literally no one, I’m not related in any way to the child. But also, strangely, for some reason…” she paused. “I feel like I am related. Like I’m the baby’s mother. Truly.” she said, her voice faltering. “Can you…live? Can you do that, for us? We all love you in the team and I probably wouldn’t be the only one to miss you.”

She lowered her head, trying to fight the tears from coming. She cried enough today.

As she was about to leave, the machines suddenly started beeping like crazy. It was a matter of time before Spencer and two doctors rushed into the room.

“What happened?” Spencer asked.

“Her pressure is bottoming out.” the first doctor said. She didn't know him.

“Belly’s tight as a drum.” the other joined in. “It’s a flash pulmonary edema, her lungs are full of fluid right now. She has abdominal compartment syndrome as well.” She didn't know her either.

“She’s bleeding out, alert an OR that we’re on our way.” one of the doctors walking in ordered. They started unplugging things there and there, grabbing all the monitors, and even more people barged in. It was overwhelming.

Emily lived their arrival once again, Y/N being wheeled out, out of sight, and she was left there. Not knowing what might happen for hours. She was left in front of the door sign that read “Authorized personnel only”, watching all the crowd of doctors disappear in the corridor.

She felt helpless. Empty. She wasn’t Emily anymore, just a body standing there, paralyzed by fear.

When she felt herself being moved, she was surprised to see that Spencer was the one next to her. He probably hated her.

“Come on, let’s go sit down. You can’t keep standing there.” he said, reassuringly. “Can you hear me, Emily?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

“I…” she paused. “I can.” speaking with a weak voice, before following his lead. She didn’t walk away from his grip around her shoulders while they walked back to the waiting room, even with how much she hated him for what he had said. She would’ve probably fell down if he wasn’t there.

Spencer was the first to make another sound when they sat down, sighing deeply as he ran both of his hands from his face to his hair, keeping them at the top of his head.

“Shouldn’t we say a prayer, or something? She’s the kind of person to do that, when there’s something… bad.” Emily said, looking at her hands.

“I’ve been doing it since I came here.” Spencer harshly answered, and Emily didn’t even say anything about his tone, because she understood why. She was pissed too, even if she didn’t show it in her previous sentences.

Emily let out a sigh again, letting the silence drown the unsaid words.

++

When Emily was suddenly woken up to Spencer shaking her so she’d wake up, panic immediately rushed in.

“Did something happen? Is she…”

Spencer tightened his grip on her shoulders, “Hey, she’s fine… they’re fine.”

“What do you mean…they?” Emily asked.

“They had to get the baby out. Both her and Y/N are fine.”

Emily immediately felt tears in her eyes. “Are you serious? They’re okay?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that, Emily.”

“Can we…” she said, getting up from the chair. “can we see them?”

“Of course.”

++

“Emily?”

“Yeah, Spence?” she answered, somehow surprised at the use of the nickname. It felt weird after their numerous arguments, and after all the silence when they stared at their daughter, and walked back in front of the room.

“You’re not nothing.” he said, as Emily turned her head to meet his eyes. “We had this kid together. Up to this day, we took care of it, you and me. You acted like a mother and I…acted like a dad, as best as I could. I’m sorry for what I said.”

“It’s… we were both frustrated.” Emily said. “She’s going to wake up, don’t worry. She’s made it this far.”

Spencer opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but nothing came out, until a few seconds later. “Do you want to go in…first?”

“You can come too.” Emily said and she slid the door open, letting Spencer sliding it shut as he stepped in.

She tried so bad to convince herself that Y/N looked better since the last time, she seemed like she did. At least the machines weren’t beeping like crazy.

That was a good sign.

She stepped up to her bed while Spencer still remained in the background, watching. He seemed terrified.

She sat down, giving a smile to Spencer before glancing back at Y/N. “Hey, uh, we saw her, you know. She’s… really small, she only weighs one pound. That really freaked me out at first, but she’ll make it. You made it this far, so she will as well. She probably got your strong genes, she made it, even with all the complications that were implied with a birth at 23 weeks.” she explained. “She’s really beautiful, she has your hair. She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, but I can tell she was… somehow looking for you, asking for you. So, get well soon so you can see her, okay?” Emily asked, keeping her eyes on her for a minute before going back to staring at her own hands.

“These past days have been horrible.” Spencer said.

“I’m going to be afraid of cars for a while, probably.”

“I wouldn’t blame you for that.” he answered.

“...yes.”

The whisper quietly spread in the room, making both of the agents’ heads snap towards it.

“Y/N?” Emily called.

“I’ll marry you.”

++

[cannonball5]

My head canons for the Girls post graduation:

Spoilers Obviously

First James and Erin were dating in 3x07 and no one can convince me otherwise. Erin and James dated until the end of summer. They were each other’s firsts for a lot of things. Their first “I love you” happens in the middle of their first real fight as a couple. They were each other’s first time which happened about 5 minutes after their first fight. They both got into different Universities and so agreed to break up before leaving for school so they don’t strain their relationships with their friends since they won’t see them as much now (I imagine a last kiss at the train station as one of them boards).

Erin goes to school and studies English and Literature. She gets a job at a publishing house after graduating from University and continues her writing (she will often try to slip her manuscripts to her bosses). She started to focus on YA fantasy when Harry Potter blew up and Erin frequently calls J.K. Rowling her “Nemesis.”

James goes to school in London for University but also because he finds out his mom’s pregnant by her new husband (James didn’t even know she remarried). He decides to be close by to give his new sibling at least a partially stable “Parental Figure.” He decides to Major in Film but also takes a minor in business. Not long after graduating he goes over to his mom’s to find out she’s packed and gone on a vacation with her new boyfriend and that she’ll be “back in a month, tops.” James realizes almost immediately she’s packed all her stuff and probably isn’t coming back anytime soon. Knowing he can’t care for both himself and his little sister (plot twist his mom’s horrible) James moves back to Derry. When he moves back he buys one of Dennis’s old shops and makes it into a nerd paraphernalia store. It does well even before the Doctor Who revival because it hosts regular movie nights showing films sooner than even theaters thanks to some old film school friends.

Orla decides to travel after graduating. She packs a bag (of mostly sweets) and over the next 5 years travels the world. She steps foot on every continent (when she visited Antarctica she had to be stopped from smuggling penguins in her bags), she learned self defense fighting from multiple sources, discovered she’s a prodigy in Yoga, met Kamal when she was in Africa, fought in underground fight clubs, accidentally started a cult, and at one point assisted MI6 with an operation (she may or may not be an inspiration for a Bond Girl). After getting back home she told her stories to Erin who used them as inspiration for a moderately successful YA series. Also Orla is never hurting for money as she apparently partially owns the rights to several international hit songs and movies. She currently owns a Yoga studio with an Ice Cream/Sweets shop attached.

Clare after being in therapy to help with her grief and anxiety she became fascinated by the human mind and started studying psychology. She eventually becomes a therapist and opens a practice back home. While she deals in all matters of mental health she specializes mostly in anxiety. A few years after opening her practice she also starts a Help Line for LGBTQ+ kids and teens (it’s her proudest accomplishment). Clare also starts dating the manager she hired to run the help line. They’ve been living together since 2011 and were engaged in 2012. They adopted 3 kids (2 girls and a boy) as well as 2 cats before they officially got married in 2020.

Michelle lost focus a bit after graduating. With her friends gone she didn’t know what to do. She became a bartender and was actually pretty good at it (she also likes to joke she’s doing what Clare wants to do without the fancy degree and she gets to drink when she does it). After a few years slinging drinks she realizes she wants more out of life. After spending time with her brother Michelle decides to get involved with the Justice system. She starts taking night classes studying pre-law and while she is struggling to find a law school she has a chat with her mom and decides to change course. Her mom asks her how she wants to help people and tells Michelle that while she doesn’t have a medical degree she believes she makes more of an impact in people’s lives than the doctors. After that Michelle joins Law Enforcement to not only help her community and people but also to hold her fellow officers to a higher standard. Michelle now is a Chief Inspector. She also is divorced and shares custody of her twins with her Ex.

Also Erin and James did eventually get back together. They did date other people (James dated Jenny Joyce for about 2 months, a secret he plans to take to his grave), but they started dating again in 2007, exactly 10 years to the day of their first kiss. They got married on the 10 year anniversary of there breakup (Erin liked the full circle feel of it). They got pregnant about 6 months after their wedding and have a daughter, Josephine Deirdre Maguire (they call her Joey).

Sorry it’s so long. If you made it this far kudos to you.

[raccoonfallsharder]

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟupdated 1/9

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 24/27 chapters | wip| word count: pending. ♡ check the masterlist for expected updates ♡ ♡ see the "holiday special" ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ Winter Across the Galaxy * ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ [new 12/5] ♡

girl falls first; racoon falls harder.

When Rocket enters their new bunk, Jo’s sitting on the floor: leaning against the edge of the bed, working diligently on some kind of woven thing. It’s a tapestry of sorts, the threads and flosses all hand-laced together. She’s put most of her tools and equipment in a closet down the corridor, and she takes them out when she’s practicing a new skill or brushing up on old ones, working on these little low-cost, low-sentiment projects that are the only ones she’ll take on board, and only for a few days at a time. She pulls out her little tools and supplies, and sits on the floor in the common area or — now, apparently — in their new bunk. She works, and then she packs up all her small things, and she takes them back out and tucks them out of sight in the closet once more. The idea of it gets under his skin, to be honest. A closet. Jo’s been shrinking her life ever since she met him, and he should probably back up out of it before he makes things worse — but it’s too late for that now. He’s too greedy to do it, even though he knows he should. And besides — if he’s pretending to be altruistic — he’d promised to not run her off. So instead, he decides he’s gonna focus on making sure she puts her name on every goddamn surface she can, everywhere they go.

[NEW 1/9] ✧･ﾟ:*Chapter XXIV. Space Would Be Better. in which Rocket ~ discreetly ~ claims the title of boyfriend. ❤︎❤︎

this was originally the last half of Chapter XXIII (the previous chapter) so if it starts a bit rough, i'm so sorry. as a result, we do jump into some smut pretty quickly in this chapter so if you need to, make sure to check out the warnings in the closing notes. i'm really excited about the next chapter, too! which is less smutty and more feelings-ish. ~♡

explicit lines or references* abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

General summary/notes + links to recently preceding chapters behind the cut.

let me know via comment, message, or ask if you'd like to be added or removed from my fanfic taglist ♡

Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1 (but will hit most of the same major plot points). slow burn + eventual smut with a lot of pining in the middle. kinda enemies-to-lovers? (but only one of these idiots thinks they're enemies).

let me be real with you: this fic is really about wish-fulfillment. not just the eventual smut (but that too). mostly i just want someone to be nice to my best boy raccoon

*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

Chapter I. A Delicacy. in which our reluctant heroes meet atop a crate of Sovereign porn in the bowels of a Ravager ship.

Chapter II. Monster For A Pet. in which one hero wrestles with his inner Groot, and the other is quite possibly a moron.

Chapter III. A Kindness. in which Rocket gets in his own damn way: not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Chapter IV. Got There First. in which our heroes obtain an arsenal and street food.

Chapter V. Things No-One Has Said Before. in which one hero refuses to babysit and the other refuses to leave.

Chapter VI. Two and a Half Billion Units.in which we lean into the “they were roommates” trope. Jolie has misgivings, while Rocket has fantasies - about getting rich, of course.

Chapter VII. I'm Here. in which we visit Knowhere.

Chapter VIII. The Care & Feeding of Human Pets. in which our heroes practice breathing and we lean into a new trope: “there was (technically) one bed.”

Chapter IX. Scrapmetal and a Dream. in which we redefine homemaking.

Chapter X. Thin Fucking Ice. in which our heroes get fucked. Not in the good way.

Chapter XI. Let It Be. in which Xandar is saved and good lives are lost.

Chapter XII. So Much It Hurts. in which we try not to fuck up the vibes.

Chapter XIII. Don’t Wait. in which a lost sister is found and Drax grapples with the concept of sarcasm.

Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared.

Chapter XV: Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly.

Chapter XVI. Run. in which Rocket falls victim to his superstitions.

Chapter XVII. A Seedling. A Fox. A Little Girl. in which the party is divided.

Chapter XVIII. I Happen to Know a Guy. in which our heroes get fucked. Again. Still not in the good way.

Chapter XIX. He Was Loved. in which a planet is killed, a friend is made and lost, and nobody still has any frickin’ tape.

Chapter XX. Some Nerve. *in which an ultimatum is given.

Chapter XXI. I Very Still. ❤︎❤︎ in which our heroes get fucked. In the good way, this time. Finally.

Chapter XXII. Got There Worse. ❤︎❤︎ in which Rocket does not say "I love you."

Chapter XXIII. We're Gonna Need a Bigger Table. ❤︎ in which the galaxy continues to spin.

Chapter XXIV. Space Would Be Better. ❤︎❤︎ in which Rocket ~discreetly~ claims the title of boyfriend.

Chapter XXV. Little Love Stories. *

Chapter XXVI. Other Side of the Window. ❤︎

Chapter XXV. The Most Beautiful Thing in My House. ❤︎❤︎

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ Winter Across the Galaxy * ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ A Holiday Special *

Epilogue: Interviewing Rocket & Jo. ten years after Window ends. short/drabbly, silly fluff.

explicit lines or references* abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @glow-autumz

[therecordconnection]

Ranting and Raving: “Unholy” by Sam Smith and Kim Petras

I'm always about fifteen years late when it comes to things that are trending so I'm only just now hearing the new Sam Smith and Kim Petras collaboration, "Unholy". I'm not on TikTok because I’m a curmudgeon so I have to find out about new music and music trends like an old person. Sue me. 

Anyway, I've been finding "Unholy" infuriatingly fascinating. It's one of those songs where the things that are great about it are great and the things that are bad about it drag it down. Let's cover the great things first. 1) We now have a major hit song that features both a nonbinary performer (Smith) and a transgender woman (Petras). Regardless of the criticisms I have about this song, that's a big deal and I'm happy to see that kind of representation in a year that has been pretty damn boring for the pop charts. 2) That hook is great. The gospel choir that accompanies it is infectious and makes for an earworm that will stick in your head for a bit. It fits in well with Sam's "Theatre Kid" energy. 3) Pretty sure the bassline is just "Sober" by Tool, but that's a plus because while it's simple, it hits. My only wish is that the production made it sound dirtier. 4) I love Sam on this song. They've always bored me as a performer, but over the last couple years they've been turning that around by getting more adventurous with their music. Sam sells this song to the best of their ability and it sounds great. 5) I got to hear Sam Smith sing the lines "While she's droppin' it / She be poppin' it" and while it does sound comical coming from them, it made me laugh in a good way so it gets a point for that. 

Alright, we've covered the things I enjoy about this. So why do I find this song to be "infuriatingly fascinating"? Easy. To quote the late Norm MacDonald's review of Interview With the Vampire: "Not gay enough." I'm aware that's a strong accusation due to who the two performers are, but here's how I know it's not gay enough. I've heard So. Many. Shitty. Heavy. Metal. Covers. Of. This. Song. If this song was truly as gay and unholy as it advertises, metalheads wouldn't even touch this with a ten foot pole, as that community still contains some of the most homophobic scum still walking the Earth. The only reason I was able to find so many of them is because doing metalcore versions of lame pop songs is what gets the views these days, kids. Most metalheads would take one look at Sam Smith, use the wrong pronouns, and then call them a word that rhymes with “maggot.”

But even beyond that, I keep asking myself this question: "What's so unholy about infidelity?" At this point, the idea of a devout religious person having a passionate affair/cheating on their spouse is about as old as the Holy Bible itself. It's not so scandalous in a world where, not even forty years ago, televangelists like Jim Bakker or Jimmy Swaggart were in hot water when people found out they were cheating on their wives. Hell, Swaggart even admitted it on television back in 1988. I've heard this song before... It's called "Miracle Man" by Ozzy Osbourne. Ozzy tore into that hypocrisy with style and made an unholy man look like a clown. I have no questions about what that song wants to say or do. This one I only have questions. So, I ask again, what's so unholy about infidelity? If you're gonna make something that truly lives up to the song title "Unholy", I better be hearing about the most fucked up thing imaginable. I may not be on TikTok, but I've seen enough videos from that app where people admit to wild, fucked up, and pathetic things that you would have to waterboard in order to get out of me.

Another issue I have with the song is in the way it doesn't play to the strengths of its performers. Who the hell is Sam supposed to be playing in this song? Are they a priest? Are they a neighbor? Are they an omniscient third person narrator? Who? I keep thinking that the song would be a million times better if it was framed around Sam playing the role of a priest. Imagine this: Sam is in the confessional. They're hearing people confess their sins and all that, but then, this guy walks in and reveals this news: He's cheating on his wife... with a trans woman. Now, imagine that while Sam is hearing this wild confession, their first idea is to start jacking off to it. You want to talk about unholy? There's your double whammy right there. I think the idea of the man in the song having an affair with a trans woman is a really important detail, considering that not only does this song desperately need something to make it more noteworthy lyrically, it has arguably the most famous trans woman in pop at the moment being completely wasted on this song. You want to really get Christian wine moms clutching their pearls? Tell them Nancy’s husband was out all night with a trans woman. Now that’s quite a story for the neighborhood.

This is to segue into how I think Kim Petras' verse on this song is the weakest part about the entire thing. Her performance is great, but she's utterly wasted on a verse that really any woman in pop could've done. Lizzo, Cardi B., Ariana, Dua Lipa, Halsey, your indie friend with a single on Spotify that has just over ten-thousand listens, etc. You would think she would be going off and telling me all about the wild sex-capades that are going on in the body shop, but nope! It's a just a verse about a guy who gives her decent sex and spends a lot of money on her. BORING. Like I said, any woman in pop right now could do this verse and you'd lose nothing. That's why it's the weakest part of this song to me. Kim Petras has something that none of the other names I mentioned have... being transgender. That makes for a really great detail in a song that could really explore a fascinating question: How would religious circles deal with someone having an affair with a member of a group of people they despise and fear? You see it happen with men cheating on their wives with other men, but how would God-fearing, Christian women react if they heard someone in their neighborhood was going across the tracks and fooling around with a trans woman in a fucking auto body shop of all places? It makes for a great premise that the song never truly bothers to explore.

Plus, it's Kim Petras for God's sake. Regardless of what you think of her due to her problematic working relationship with scumbag serial abuser/producer Dr. Luke, this song wastes her strengths. It especially sucks because if any woman could make this song live up to the name "Unholy", it would be her. We're talking about the woman who just last year made an album called Slut Pop! The woman who made a whole dance song just about her tits on "Coconuts", the woman who made "Throat Goat," "Treat Me Like a Slut," and "They Wanna Fuck"! The woman is known for nasty, highly sexual music and if you need someone to get absolutely filthy and unholy on a track for you, she’s a damn good choice. But what does she get here? Boring lyrics about designer clothes and shopping on Rodeo? Boo! I don't need an Incognito tab to listen to this song. I've heard this song on the radio unchanged. Sam already did the cutesy "censor out the bad word with a sound effect" trick for me. Come on! Unholy... There are church kids probably listening to this song right now. There are probably wine moms doing TikTok dance videos to this right now. There’s probably a whole plethora of Halloween playlists that have this song in it. Sam Smith is still probably the only gay person you could safely bring home to your grandma who truly means well but is just a little backwards. Unholy, my ass.

Look, if you want overt gayness that will really look unholy to people, look at the Lil Nas X videos for "Montero (Call Me By Your Name)" and "Industry Baby." You can find those on my new CD compilation, Now That's What I Call Gay, hitting store shelves soon.

This song's biggest sin (HA!) is that it pulls its punches when it could've been so much more. "Unholy" is a song that, while I do enjoy listening to it, is a song that is playing it way too safe and doesn't live up to its full potential in my eyes. Even though I've complained about what I don't think works here, don't let that diminish what this song's success means culturally and what it could mean going forward. If this song breaks the barrier and allows for more non-binary and trans representation in the mainstream, then this song should be celebrated on that alone. It's the first hit song I can think of that features both a non-binary singer and a trans woman. Like all experiments, sometimes the first result isn't the greatest, but it gets you excited for what the next results *could* be if we keep at it.

[thefootballobserver]

April 9-11 European Roundup: Match Reviews

It was a week full of surprises, with underdogs exceeding expectations.

Wow. Nearly every match this week was filled with drama and reminded everyone of the beauty of continental competitions. From wonder goals to disappointing performances, here’s a brief review of a chunk of the matches played. I’ve only managed to watch these highlights, so these reviews do not represent the full matches but key moments.

Arsenal 2-2 Bayern Munich: Penalty Controversy Steals the Attention

A Harry Kane goal against Arsenal on his return to North London was written in the stars.

Of course, as a Spurs fan, it was a delight to see Harry Kane score against the Gunners, making him the highest goalscorer against Arsenal at the Emirates. As he said in his post-match interview, Arsenal tend to concede penalties to Kane, with him scoring his 15th goal against them - and 8 of them being penalties. Maybe it’s not a good decision to let the striker of your biggest rivals be the top scorer at you on your ground, yeah?

Besides me fawning over Harry for a bit, the game was good. Saka opened the scoring with a beautiful finish thanks to some pretty poor defending from Davies, who struggled against Arsenal’s leading man (and picked up a yellow, meaning he misses their next meeting). Unsurprisingly, Arsenal played on the front foot. At the same time, Bayern largely looked to counter, with Bayern’s right winger Sané causing havoc on Arsenal’s left side, and Kiwior looked like a major defensive weakness that night. But it wouldn’t be Kiwior but Gabriel, who’s arguably been better than Saliba this season, who loses the ball, resulting in former Arsenal player Gnarby equalising for the visitors.

Usually, with a leakproof defence in the league, Sané again caused trouble as he glided through it, and Saliba conceded a penalty through a stuck-out leg. Raya dived about ten business days before Kane even moved, resulting in Kane waiting and slotting it away instead of his usual “I’m going to launch this bad boy into the net as hard as possible,” silencing the Emirates as Bayern played without away fans.

Trossard, who was subbed on Martinelli (I was surprised he didn’t start if I’m honest), would go on to equal for the home side with a sweet strike. Still, ultimately, the game ended in a 2-2 draw - a much better result for Bayern than Arsenal, who should have taken advantage of Bayern, given this is one of the weakest teams they’ve displayed in a long, long time.

Of course, the game had to end in controversy as Saka tried to draw a foul from Neuer in the last minute instead of shooting at an open goal. I think the criticisms have gotten out of hand, but I agree that it was a poor decision by Saka and Neuer, who knew that he wouldn’t get the ball and stopped moving his leg. Saka’s leg didn’t look in a particularly natural position, but camera angles make it a difficult call. I read an opinion that Arsenal likely tries to draw fouls to take advantage of set pieces, which I think is a good point. However, in the world of VAR, they need to get it out of their system when they’re in the box. Ultimately, what has happened happened, and both sides need to let go of it as an exciting game is teed up at the Allianz Arena.

My MOTMs: Odegaard (ARS); Kane (FCB)

Real Madrid 3-3 Man City: Wonder Goals Star in 6-Goal Thriller

Ruben Dias scored an unfortunate goal and didn’t have the best of times against Vinicius and Rodrygo.

Bar the four incredible goals scored, the real news to come out of the game was Pep pronouncing “vomit” in quite a zesty manner when asked about Kevin de Bruyne’s absence from the starting lineup. Even his stomach is against him playing in big UCL nights, I’m afraid (I still love that man).

Before the clock could even hit a minute, Tchouaméni got carded for a foul on Grealish - which, if I’m honest, was entirely unnecessary - and now misses the second leg. Minutes later, Silva scored a beautiful free kick. Some may argue Lunin should have done better, but let’s be honest: you, him, the players, the managers, the Bernabeu and the neighbour’s dog weren’t expecting that. Real Madrid then responded with two rapid goals in the 12th and 14th minute, with Dias conceding an own goal and Rodrygo scoring, both from taking advantage of City’s relatively slow back line. The game slowed down after that, and City were sloppy at best.

They massively improved in the second half, though, and managed to turn the 2-1 scoreline in their favour, with Foden (it just had to be him) scoring from range perfectly into the top left corner, making it impossible for Lunin to make the save. Gvardiol then one-upped it with an even better goal on his right foot, his first goal for City since his summer transfer. This goal sparked a lot of humorous Twitter conversation, with City fans saying that Walker will be shooting from 40 yards out constantly and Liverpool fans saying that they don’t even want to think about Robertson shooting like that on his left - let alone right foot. Gvardiol hasn’t been the 70m signing most have expected, but his upturn of form lately has been promising.

Three unforgettable goals weren’t enough, and Valverde scored an even better strike to level the game at 3-3. For all the hype of Real closing the Bernabeu roof (which one commented that it looked like an air fryer, which I’m afraid I have to agree) and wearing all white, it was an excellent game for the neutral, but not so much for the Madridistas, who may have the 4-0 trashing at the Etihad in mind…

Oh, and of course, Haaland ghosted. Whether or not he served as a distraction for the centre-backs or just failed to get involved is not my fight to fight.

My MOTMs: Vinicius Jr (RMA); Gvardiol (MCI)

Atletico Madrid 2-1 Dortmund: The Metropolitano Still Stands Strong

What can I say? Atletico did what it always does.

So, I’m not an avid watcher of Atletico, and I’m even less of a Bundesliga person. Thanks to time zones, I don’t watch European games live either, so I wasn’t precisely tuned into this match as much as I should, but it was still exciting.

Atletico should have had more than a one-goal advantage but failed to capitalise, notably when Lino should have scored in the 71st minute. This is especially true given Dortmund’s inconsistent form this season. However, their UCL form should be applauded as they escaped the “Group of Death” relatively more straightforwardly than the other three teams. The home side stunned Dortmund early in the game, with De Paul capitalising on a Kobel-Maatsen mistake to score in the 4th minute. Although Dortmund had the ball, all the chances came from Atletico, who…well, Atletico-ed with a back five and looked to counter, as is the Diego Simeone way.

The home side would deservedly double to lead through Lino to round off the first half. Dortmund finally grew as the game went on and did manage to snatch a goal back through Haller to keep Dortmund in the second tie. It's less eye-catching than the previous night's matches, but the second leg should be fun to watch.

My MOTMs: Griezmann (ATM); Haller (BVB)

PSG 2-3 Barcelona: Xavi’s Super Subs Give Barca a One-Goal Advantage

What’s up with big stars and poor UCL nights? Mbappe ghosts as PSG loses at home.

PSG ultras had a lot to say and do before the match, with them launching fireworks at the hotel Barcelona were staying at 4 am, chanting “p*ta Barca” (f*ck Barca) to the players, as well as “Real Madrid” too. Some bold moves, considering their star man will leave them to Real Madrid for nothing, but PSG ultras have always been questionable. Some Barcelona players, like Ferran Torres and youngest Marc Guiu, were seen recording and laughing, likely at the fans. They would also have the last laugh that night as the current La Liga holders left with a one-goal advantage.

Barcelona started the game much stronger than PSG (they had 0.81 xG, ten shots and one on-target versus 0.33 xG and eight off-target shots) and were rewarded when Raphinha scored in an empty net. They carried this lead to halftime, but PSG was on the front pedal when the second-half whistle blew, looking like an entirely different team. Barcelona couldn’t handle the pressure, and former Barcelona man Dembele scored (and celebrated) and was followed by Vitinha - who’s been having an excellent season for the Ligue 1 giants - only three minutes later. 

However, Xavi’s super substitutions would save the game for Barcelona, as Roberto came off for Pedri, who then produced a wonder assist within a minute with his first touch of the game - and his first touch since his injury in March - to Raphinha, as all the Brazilian had to do was slot it past Donnarumma to level the game. Later, de Jong would come off for Christensen, and this time, he one-upped Pedri and scored thanks to a Gündogan corner with his first touch, which was within a minute of coming on. On his birthday, too!

As a Barcelona fan, I would have been happy with a draw at the Parc des Princes, but to leave with a win really must have been confidence high - even if it’s only a one-goal margin and there’s still all to play for that the Montjuïc Stadium next week. I can’t lie - Dembele scoring and celebrating hurt, but I think Barca fans have overreacted, especially those calling for the Figo treatment. Honestly, I’m just glad he did what he did and left us with some money instead of going on a free next summer.

My MOTMs: Vitinha (PSG); Raphinha (FCB)

Liverpool 0-3 Atalanta: Klopp’s Farewell Party in Tatters

Poor, poor mistakes from the Reds resulted in a completely unexpected scoreline.

My oh my, where do I even start? For starters, I’d like to say that I quite like Klopp. I think it’s a bit of a shame he’s leaving Liverpool, and I hope he leaves the club on a high note. I’m glad they won the EFL Cup, so at least they have something, even if it’s the least noteworthy competition they could win; a cup is a cup (but I am a Spurs fan, so I’m not exactly in a position to judge).

That being said, Liverpool’s defence was sh*t. I’m sorry, but it had to be said. I like Kelleher, and I think he’s been pretty good for Liverpool, given he’s not a starter and has to fill in Alisson's shoes, but man, that first goal was a bummer - although I don’t think that should take away from his other two incredible saves before and after the error - Kelleher did end up conceding two more after that (neither of which the goalkeeper was at fault for, but he did concede). Unfortunately, goalkeepers tend to be remembered for the goals they concede, not the ones they prevent.

Attacking-wise, Liverpool was fine but very much not clinical - although I don’t know if Klopp wished for goals when he started a front three of Gakpo-Nuñez-Elliot. There were a few promising sequences, but Nuñez (absolutely no one is surprised) was wasteful - but he’s not the only culprit.

Atalanta tried to catch Liverpool on the counter - again, to no one’s surprise - and they reaped the awards. Italian striker Scamacca scored two against Liverpool in the 38th and 60th minute, the first taking advantage of Kelleher not reacting nearly fast enough for a preventable goal as it slid under the ‘keeper and the second coming from a cross when (1) Van Dijk really should have closed down De Ketelaere and (2) Scamancca should not have been so open and unmarked.

The third was by Pasalic and was to an inexplicable back pass by Szoboszlai - although Kelleher did block the initial shot by Ederson, it wasn’t enough. The backline wasn’t trying to prevent the two later goals by how they reacted. They were walking back when the Atalanta players really should have been closed down earlier.

A comeback looks unlikely as Liverpool plays away next, although it’s not off the cards. Liverpool have now drawn to an underwhelming United and lost at home to a side that’s 6th on the Serie A table and have lost their two recent games. Their finishing has disappointed them despite having some of the Premier League’s best forwards and playing well in their previous Europa games. This game is a major result for Atalanta and confirms them in the semifinal - though I don’t want to jinx it.

You have quite a lot of work to do if you want that nice farewell party, Jürgen Klopp.

My MOTMs: Gakpo (LIV); Scamacca (ATA)

Leverkusen 2-0 West Ham: So Close Moyes! But Forget It

Moyes-ball almost gets them a draw…until it didn’t.

I’ll be zooming through the next few because I think the results are coming, or I don’t follow the teams too much.

Leverkusen’s 30 shots to West Ham’s one sums it up. Still, West Ham did look like they were going to snatch a point until the German side finally broke the deadlock with seven minutes of regular time remaining through Hofmann, who would also assist Boniface’s goal in stoppage time. Fabianski bailed the team out on multiple occasions, displaying some fantastic saves. On a better or worse day - depending on who you’re asking - Leverkusen easily could have had three to five goals. A two-goal deficit is saveable for West Ham at home, but they’ll need to do better on the counter.

Also, please end Leverkusen’s unbeaten streak. If the streak ends by Moyes ball, it’d be hilarious, and I need one less thing for them to be happy about (I’m just a little salty).

My MOTMs: Fabianski (WHU), Hofmann (B04)

AC Milan 0-1 Roma: What in the World is De Rossi Cooking?

Roma play at home next with a one-goal advantage.

All I can say is that Roma should have fired Mourinho ages ago if De Rossi was willing to take the job before his release (and this isn’t even my Spurs bias talking) because you’re telling me De Rossi has only lost to Inter and Brighton (in a useless game) between then and now? What in the world is he cooking in Rome?

Also, that back-and-forth between Giroud and Lukaku was hilarious. It’s even funnier when the replays show that Lukaku’s making the goalkeeper’s life way harder by standing in front of him and preventing Svilar from catching the ball.

No man of the matches because that’s all the highlights had.

Aston Villa 2-1 Lille: Work to Be Done Next Week

McGinn, with his iconic celebration as he put the Villans two in front.

The game was a perfect McGinn performance from the looks of it. I’ll admit that the second goal looked accidental on Bailey’s part (that slip…was he trying to cross?), but that strike was terrific. Of course, Lille did manage to pull one back, but Martinez also made some stunning saves to keep Villa in the game in the first half. The way he comes off his line with that confidence is impressive.

My MOTMs: McGinn (AVL), Diaketé (LIL)

[causmonaut]

aaaand we’re back…

with another long ass post !!

documenting my stupidity immaturity:::::

she tweets: i love my bf!

he tweets: i love my gf!

she tweets: i miss my hubby i cant eat or sleep i cant breath i cant live like this

and hoooowwww do i see it? by logging into the acc i follow her on (to softblock everyone and keep the account as an archive since i had been using it for years)…

i !!! was confused? at first. then icked out… then hurt.

how do you shit on me for not even directly questioning your sexuality once because you loved to talk about dating men and dated and LOVED a man for 3 years, and say you’re a pure lesbian and i’m projecting by suggesting that you might have curiosity or the capacity to be attracted to men .. and then go date a man?

that part got me for a bit but her sexuality is really none of my business nor do i really care about it past the fact that she got super aggressive with me when i would question her comments. if she’s figuring out her sexuality then, good on her. i don’t believe in holding anyone to labels they’ve given themselves, it takes a long while before someone might settle (or decide not to settle) on whatever label(s) they feel comfortable with.

but it confirms that she’s with someone, it confirms that she likely lined him up soon after or before she dumped me which also stings because i think she’s shown me my worth to her so many times and it’s really not much. i think i was worth more than a few weeks of recovery? but it’s fine. i think she’s emotionally constipated and avoidant as fuck so i lowkey hope it all builds up and blows up in her face eventually (this is hateful, i’m rarely ever hateful…)

i decided to reach out before yesterday ended because it gave me an excuse to go and a: make it known that i know she’s a “lesbian” with a boyfriend and b: make it clear that i think it’s best i don’t have her on any of my social media accounts.. so i removed her on my defunct instagram… removed her from the server we used to share stuff and vc during games… took her out of groupchats with my friends.

her responses vv

“my tweets? do we still follow eo anywhere? but yeah, sure. please delete my personal info on there.”

“ooh i see”

“alright alright, thanks”

^^ putting these here.. for a few reasons

i think it’s important for me to reflect on how little energy she was giving me despite my long-winded over-explanations for my actions.. i wanted to make it clear i wasn’t removing her out of malice and stuff.. but really i don’t think i owed her the clarification.

i don’t think she thinks that deeply about things, and probably didn’t care much since they’re logical steps.

i wish i could’ve been more reserved during a lot of our conversations together but my overthinking makes it so hard not to assume she’d need the same reassurance as i might need in that situation.

i think for the first time she’s actually given me pretty mature responses. curt, dry, detached. probably in part because i’ve been pathetic as fuck in a lot of my messages to her, i’m sure she’s tired (i know she’s tired).

i would like to adopt her way of being firm in her decisions and knowing when to step away.

i could’ve honestly just quietly removed her from things, didn’t need to open up that can of worms or do that to myself or her.

i’ve now been dealing with the consequences of feeling a little hurt by her short responses, by removing her from things i wasn’t ready to remove her from.. by her moving on so quickly. her using the L word .. didn’t necessarily want her to while she was with me but she couldn’t say it even after a year, but with anyone else she’s said it within months? my self worth has taken a major hit. i think it’s half her and half me. two mentally ill people cannot function together for sure.

on the topic of mental illness, she subtweeted .. with “mental illness” .. friend saw and sent over a screenshot

yes, i’m mentally ill. i deal with chronic depression, anxiety disorder, a whole separate cocktail of other stuff, and ADHD… not to mention addiction (sober, btw).. and if we are being honest i am probably bordering on a personality disorder and all of that in combination with my anxious attachment style turn me into a monster when i’m with someone who can’t meet my needs or be consistent.

i recognize that and my needs, and what i need to work on.. i’ve known for a very long time but i still end up being attracted to manic types who are wishy washy and leave me questioning their intentions 24/7… this last girl was also a love bomber so that was not fun.

not excluding my own mistakes and toxic tendencies btw. i could lean into manipulative territory when i was upset, probably overloaded her with information in attempt to be transparent and it likely came off as being over critical and uncaring, because she could be petty i also allowed myself to be petty, too. we would get snappy at each other, she’d fuck up and i’d hold it against her for a while because she’d never genuinely apologize.. i’d fuck up and she’d never let it go, never communicate, only bring it up when it was too late for me to make up for it. it just wasn’t a good match.

but at the end of the day, once again, i can blame others as much as i want for things. i can hate her, i can ruminate on how little i must’ve meant to her in comparison to how much she meant and still means to me, i can torture myself with old screenshots or what ifs and would’ve should’ve could’ves but it doesn’t serve me.

^ easy to recognize that it doesn’t serve me but hard to not think or do these things anyway. i’m not good at combatting negative thoughts. i either don’t have them or they dominate all other thoughts. no in-between.

i think my anxiety and tendency to overthink are the biggest roadblocks i face.

kind of feeling like i am damaged goods. kind of feeling like i’d rather not date again so i don’t turn into an insecurity monster over someone that ain’t shit for the hundredth time.

life is tough as is. i have a lot on my plate, and sometimes i fear i’ll never feel peace. i don’t need a relationship to come and muddy everything up on top of all of the shit i go through on a regular basis.

buut as much as i don’t need it, that fear of loneliness sure does know how to creep in at just the right moments.

i’m talking about general loneliness. dying alone.. being distant from family… but also romantic loneliness, yea. everyone grows and branches out, my friends will find people they’ll go live in their own little bubble with, my cousins will do the same.. my parents are split and it wont be long before they both find people, too.. and here i am, their adult daughter who Should be more independent but i have honestly been so stunted by the amount of trauma we’ve all been through and it’s hard to feel my age, hard to cope with the fact that my life is my own. i don’t have the support structure of someone with parents that love them unconditionally or healthily.. it’s hard to grow when i spend so much time in their shadow trying to patch things up with them and help out without ever being nurtured in return.

in a lot of my relationships, i’m the one who lifts and supports others while i’m expected to get through things on my own. i fear it won’t ever change.

this all sounds very woe is me but i think i deserve to sit in that energy for a bit.

[angelsndragons]

okay since folks really like my original cockroach party post i’m going to expand a bit and talk about how and why the mighty nein turned into a cockroach party.

but before we do that, i’m going to talk about mechanics on this post. warning: long post ahead.

first, let’s define terms. all adventuring parties find their own play style when it comes to combat. from my experience, these tend to fall into three broad categories that i am calling the glass cannon, the control, and the cockroach. to be clear, no one party style is better than another; the players and characters simply have different priorities and skill sets.  

glass cannon: these parties are built for doing damage. that’s basically it. they do damage and hope that they kill their enemies before their enemies kill them. these parties tend to be low on support casters, healers, or both. round 4 is where things start to get really rough for these parties and chances are good that if the fight has gone on this long, someone’s at least unconscious.

control: these parties tend to go around obstacles and enemies. there are a million ways to do this; for example, these parties can regularly avoid conflicts all together via stealth or charisma or some other check. when forced into combat, they excel when they have plans or traps to spring on opponents. they struggle a bit but ultimately triumph because they have a myriad of ways to not get hit or they are able to escape and lose their pursuers. 

cockroach: these parties don’t engage in combat, they endure it. their goal is to outlast their enemies via healing, support, and tanking. you hit them? joke’s on you, they don’t care. unlike their glass cannon counterparts, round 4 is where things turn around for the cockroach party. they’ve dug in and are starting to push back.

vox machina is a quintessential glass cannon party. part of that is simply down to player availability; ashley their cleric worked across the country so that made it tough for her to attend on the regular. but. the party technically still had a primary healer who could have stepped in and filled that role: keyleth. druids are pretty dang good healers and support casters, even moon druids. however. marisha and keyleth decided to instead take a dps and tank role similar to grog. this ain’t a diss either so don’t any of you all start anything, especially considering keyleth was often burning her higher slots just to get vm to different places. when keyleth was tanking in wild shape and focusing on dps, it meant that vox machina was reliant on: vex’s cure wounds (and with her being a half caster, you weren’t getting a lot of mileage of it), scanlan as the only support role, and later vax’s lay on hands for emergency healing. percy could heal himself a bit if things got really dicey, grog was taking half damage from most attacks, and the twins could hide as a bonus action or stay at range out of the way. in fact, most of vm had some method for staying at range and letting grog and keyleth tank. and this style worked for them for the most part. their biggest dangers were always the longer fights, with or without pike. longer fights meant more chances for these fragile kids to get hit and possibly drag out the fight even longer by trying to get someone up.

the ashholes from exandria unlimited is a great example of a control party. i count half of their encounters which they’ve been able to wriggle out of without killing their opponents. their liberal use of charm spells, high charisma, and just flat out out of the box thinking (they flipped a fucking crocodile!!) has saved their bacon so many times. during unavoidable combat, they have struggled a little bit, but they’re a low level party to begin with so struggle is expected. all the casters appear to be offensively geared with dariax and fearne having prepped utility on the side. even so, that control vibe still permeates the party; dorian’s most clutch move was that dissonant whispers on mister, which he cast not to harm mister but force him to move away from the rune that transformed and powered him, thus ending the combat.

and finally we have the mighty nein, the cockroach party. we’ll get into the hows and whys later, for now, cockroach parties are built on three major founding principles: action economy, mindset, and versatility. action economy is king in dnd. pcs get an action, bonus action, and reaction per turn. having turns each round is critical to a dnd party's ability to overcome the enemy and the more turns you have compared to your opponent, the better. for large parties, that is a sizable advantage over enemy monsters, which is why even low level monsters are packing multi-attacks, decent ac, and/or good solid hit points. more members means more attacks the creature(s) needs to take and focused fire adds up fast, even at low levels. for example, kylre had about 90 hp and was dead in three rounds, with fjord alone dealing 64 points of that damage. yeah. want to know why mid to high level monsters have legendary actions and resists? action economy. want to know why some silly min-max number crunchers think that cleric healing is severely under-powered? action economy. laura's assessment of healing, that it is better to damage the enemy and only heal to bring people up to make sure they get their turn, is a solid, reasonable assessment of the economy, especially when it comes to the cleric spell slot economy which I elaborated on here.

so, in light of the action economy, let's talk about the cockroach mindset. the cockroach party doesn’t ask ‘how do we beat this opponent’, it asks ‘how do we outlast this opponent.’ it’s a subtle difference in combat focus but an important one. survival of the party is the cockroach’s top priority and all members go into the encounter with that priority in mind. the players aren’t focused on the survival of their character, however, they are focused on giving their party another round to act. they give themselves room to breathe. whether that is stunning the enemy completely, whether it's lowering the enemy's attacking ability, whether it's giving a party member an extra action, whether it’s bringing someone up from unconsciousness, those methods combine with damage generation to win an encounter. cockroach parties don't rely on damage output to keep themselves safe, they rely on their own ability to survive and support their team. 

which brings us to versatility. cockroach parties tend to have a wide array of skills at their disposal and aren’t afraid to use them. while they have solid support roles, casters are not the only ones who can bring utility to a party. just ask beau. just ask yasha as she flew caleb out of danger in the first lucien fight. heck, just ask orym and his swip swap battle flop. or damian and the owlbear from the darrington brigade. cockroach parties, more than control and glass cannon parties, prefer to have a wide range of options available to them. the more tricks up your sleeve, the more likely you are to have something to deal with whatever the dm throws at you. marine layer, anyone? at the same time, the party also uses this wide array to have multiple ways to handle the same problem. jester is the backup stealth scout and teleporter. fjord is the emt, able to remove and heal injured party members if caduceus or jester cannot. caleb is the backup backup cleric with polymorph. veth can also stun/incapacitate enemies with her spells. caduceus is the backup backup tank and battlefield control via his shield of retribution and spirit guardians to beau and jester.

these three tricks combine into one inescapable reality: there is no one better or obvious target to take out. the entire party is one giant interlocking trap; break one and the others will reinforce the weak point and make you pay for the effort.

(incidentally, the cockroach approach is so ingrained in the cast that the vm side of the battle royale didn’t play with the urgency the vm playbook requires and that, more than anything, screwed them over. but that’s a different post.)

tune in next time for a break down of how, when, and why the nein went from glass cannon to cockroach because it is a fascinating ride.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[thefanficmonster]

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

                                                             *  *  *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

                                                            *  *  *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

[hanazuma-inactive]

Hello! This is kind of a long request and well- Hopefully you’re fine with doing temporary Body Swap. :>

So basically Bakugou and his Male S/O are pro heroes and when out on a mission, they both get hit by a villain who has a swap quirk. Basically, they just swapped bodies. (Y/n is in Bakugou’s body and Bakugou is in Y/n’s body, they basically just switched minds.) They are told by the other pro heroes that the two should go home and take the day off. Unfortunately, nobody knows how long the quirk effect will stay, but they were convinced it was only temporary. So the two go back to their shared apartment and the day goes on pretty normal- besides the fact that, you know, they’ve swapped bodies. Though later Y/n gets a bit of an idea. What if he were to f*ck Bakugou in this body? The thought seemed kinda strange at first since he would literally be f*cking his own body, but he couldn’t deny that the thought was turning him on. Especially wanting to see Bakugou’s reaction. So, he basically handcuffs Bakugou to prevent him from struggling and.. while in the middle of doing it, something happens.. Shit! Why did it have to happen now?? Y/n panics in his head as he realizes they just swapped bodies again, and he is now at the mercy of Bakugou Katsuki himself..

I actually sent a request kinda similar to this to someone else but it was a while ago and they haven’t responded so they may not have liked it, or it just didn’t arrive. And sorry for choosing Bakugou again, you just may be able to figure out who my favorite character is.. Sorry for my rambling.

If you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine. Anyways, have a good day/night, man!

in his shoes (nsfw) bakugou x reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: body swapping during sex, bottom and top reader+bakugou, selfcest (?), degrading, bratty behavior, claimming and possesive themes, bondage (handcuffs)

a/n: i really like this concept and i will write it don't worry 😎👍 i usually write all of my requests anyways. im also sorry this took literally 5 years.

_____

katsuki bakugou and y/n bakugou. the two of you have been married for 2 years now after you guys started working as heroes. you both went to UA and graduated at the top of the class. neither of you had time for love or romance resulting in neither of you confessing you feelings for each other. gladly, things managed to work out in the end.

"he's on it again, i need the bakugous here right now."

hearing the police force requesting your assistance, you and your husband show up on the case. it turned out to be the villain that the two of you couldn't capture the last time during patrol. 

"HEH?! look y/n, it's this motherfucker again. what's up with this loser, coming back every time it's annoying." 

"play nice now katsuki, let's just go and restrain him and let the police take care of the rest."

the two of you move quickly to match the villain's rapid movements. katsuki flew around using his quirk to attempt to catch him but failed. the villain was surprisingly agile and you guys had a tough time trying to chase him down. 

after around half an hour of chasing you finally cornered the villain on top of a tall building in the middle of the city that was still in construction. the ground was hard to walk on and somewhat unstable but you managed to find your balance. 

"alright, give it up, you've got nowhere to run now. 

"what he said, stop resisting and i won't blow your face off."

the villain's expression turned to fear as you started to close up on him. out of panic, he used his quirk. it was a small beam that didn't hurt at all. however, after a few seconds your body started to heat up, you looked over to katsuki and you could tell he was feeling the same. what was happening?

seeing the two of you struggling, the villain quickly left the scene but he had trouble moving around due to his surroundings. his movements were also somewhat impaired due to fatigue. it was most likely the aftereffect of his quirk which was why he was pretty reluctant in using it. 

the strange feeling in your chest wouldn't go away and your vision started to blur. next thing you know you woke up on top of the same building to see yourself lying next to you. was his quirk duplication? no it couldn't have been. you tried to stand up but felt the weight of some heavy armor dragging you down. you look down to see yourself wearing katsuki's hero costume and his gauntlet. still in awe, you heard a groan in your own voice next to you. 

"shit… wtf happened, y/n where are you where-" 

it didn't take long for your husband to find out what happened. 

the two of you have switched bodies.

you both tried to explain to the police who's who but it only ended in confusion. you went home with your husband after they put the two of you on break for "damaged mental" from the villain because the majority of the police thought you guys were crazy. 

there weren't any cases similar to body switching between heros before so the doctor said there's nothing that can be done other than attempting to wait off the effect. so there you were, in your husband's body, cooking dinner for the man while you saw your own body lazily sitting on the couch with your legs spread open watching the tv. 

life went as normal for the next two days, since you two were both males there weren't any problems whatsoever. however, one day a thought flew into your mind while taking a nap with katsuki. since he was the one who would usually top, now that you're in his body wouldn't it technically mean you get to top? 

physically you would be using your boyfriend's body to fuck yourself. but the thought of the all mighty bakugou katsuki taking his own dick, his bratty attitude, and lastly breaking him and making him fall apart by your touch aroused you in an indescribable way. you knew katsuki wouldn't agree to this due to his prideful personality so you had to take other measures to carry out your plan. 

you and kastuki had all sorts of toys laying around and you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine with them. while he wasn't looking you grabbed the vibrator, handcuffs, and blindfolds and put them all on the nightstand. now that everything is in place, all you have to do is wait to catch katsuki off guard tonight when he gets tired.

later tonight, after finishing dinner, katsuki was yet again sitting casually again on the couch watching tv, not giving a single care to the world. 

"heyy katsuki!"

"hm? yah?" 

"come with me for a second? i want to show you something!" you said with a sly grin on your face

katsuki didn't care enough to talk back, neither did he think this could lead to the ill intentions you had with him tonight. following you into the bedroom, you gestured katsuki to sit down on the bed. he obeyed although he began to have a suspicion of what you're about to do. using your new body, you abused katsuki's strong muscle and speed to restrain your own body with the handcuffs you prepare. there was no way for katuski to fight back in this situation because your body was simply not built enough to resist his. 

"h-huh? what are you doing dumbass…if you're joking s-stop it now, it's not funny." 

"oh i am very serious katsuki, now that i'm inside your body. i am going to fuck your brains out. i'm gonna thrust that bratty attitude of yours right out the window." 

hearing you say that, your husband looked away to avert his eyes while you heard a small gulp coming from his throat. you could tell he was nervous and that's exactly what you wanted. katsuki has never bottomed in his life before and he does plan on doing so either. 

finally having katsuki in your grasp, you decided to carry on with your plan. you put on the blindfold for him as he jolted in surprise. katsuki tried to get out of the handcuffs but later found his attempt futile. these were the toys he used for you too and he out of everyone should know it's impossible to get out of them. once your husband stopped moving you gentlt took off his pants, leaving him exposed wearing only your boxers with an erection under it.

"aww katsuki~ already hard and i haven't even done anything yet, maybe you're better off being the bottom hm?" you teased 

"s-shut up you shit head, just get on with it, whatever evil plan you have in store for tonight…"

"no need to rush katsuki" you said as you entered his asshole with 2 of your fingers, loosening him up for the vibrator. 

"we have the entire night."

you heard your own voice whimper as you explored more with your fingers. soon enough it was time to put the other toy in. your fingers left for a bit preparing the vibrator, leaving bakugou panting from the pleasure and clenching his hole around well, nothing. you turned on the vibrator and katsuki immediately noticed the familiar sound of what's in your hands. 

"o-oi y/n, don't put it in here, i-i won't be able to take it." 

"oh i'm sure you can~ you made me do it plenty of times, why can't the big and strong bakugou katsuki do it?"

without mercy, you put in the vibrator quickly and let the show play out. katsuki was moaning and groaning while you stroked your own cock enjoying the view. katuski's cock was bigger than yours and you weren't used to jacking off such a big dick but it was a nice first.

seeing a wet spot forming on katsuki's underwear, you knew he was ready to go. you took off katsuki's underwear to see the precum leaking from it, so much it looked like he was about to cum any second now. next, you took out the vibrator and started to spread some lube on your cock. you positioned yourself on top of the katsuki and teased his pink hole with your huge cock. 

"what do good boys say katsuki~?" 

"tch! i'm not saying it, y-you sadistic fuck."

you slapped katsuki's ass so loud that the neighbors probably could've heard you.

"i'm the one in control right now, you listen to what i say, understood?"

"f-fine, jesus christ! p-please y/n, put it inside me…" 

"that's a good boy…" 

after you fit ¾ of your cock in katsuki was already panting heavily trying to catch his breath. it reached his prostate you leaned down on his chest to bite on his nipples to make him feel even better. his hole clenched on your hole so tight you were barely able to move your cock around. you continued to make thrusts and sped them up each time. 

during your thrusts you suddenly felt the weird feeling when fighting the villain again. both you and bakugou's body started to burn up but it wasn't as painful as it was last time. next thing you know everything was pitch black. you felt a piece of black cloth on top of your eyes and a familiar size inside your ass. it didn't take you long to realize that you and bakugou finally switched back. 

you were glad to be back in your own body but why did it have to happen now?! out of all the times it could've happened this was no doubt the worst possible timing. you just teased the crap out of bakugou and now that he's in control again he can take his revenge right here, right now.

"oh? would you look at that…our bodies switched back…" you couldn't see katsuki say this but you could already tell the evil smile on his face. 

"k-katsuki i'm sorry, i didn't mean to tease you that hard i was just trying to have some fun y-y'know." you desperately tried to explain. 

"too late now baby boy… bad boys get punished for what they did. now… get ready, for the night of your fucking life." 

regret, nothing but regret. bakugou was already an aggressive person when it comes to sex, now that you pissed him off even more you weren't prepared for what he was about to do to you. 

without warning, katsuki pulled back his hips and thrusted into you harder than ever. you took his entire length right away and the full feeling in your ass was too overwhelming for you to handle. you started to blabber nonsense, unable to form words due to the pleasure. 

"c'mon baby… gotta speak up if you want me to understand you." bakugou said knowing damn well you can't talk back. 

incoherent moans and groans escaped from your mouth as you felt dry orgasms again and again from katsuki reaching your prostate. you were on the verge of passing out till you saw your husband's panting just as hard as you. you could tell he was very close as well. you tried your best to stay conscious and cum with your husbands. 

katsuki let out a loud moan as he cummed inside you. you reached your orgasm too cumming all over yourself. katsuki licked up the cum on your stomach as you slipped into sweet unconsciousness. he gave you a warm smile and patted your head as he took you into his arms and fell asleep with you. 

[leahseclipse]

I posted 142 times in 2022

14 posts created (10%)

128 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@leahseclipse

@leahblackk

@simibraun

@imagining-in-the-margins

@mydirtyvalentine

I tagged 40 of my posts in 2022

#lexies favs - 6 posts

#aot - 4 posts

#snk fic - 4 posts

#criminal minds - 4 posts

#stranger things - 3 posts

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#snk - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 58 characters

#he's so fucking pretty i nearly cried at work making these

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Marry me (Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader)

Warnings: talks of hospital, car crash, blood and wound mentions (no major character death)

Summary: A car crash turns everything into a nightmare. (Based off episode 18 and 19 of S7 of grey's anatomy)

A/N: It's a bit of a random post, but I remembered I had wrote that fic for @imagining-in-the-margins 's wedding challenge, so why not post it! It's really a no beta we die like men in here, so there might be some mistakes. This was based off @fortheloveofwonderland 's prompt 🤗

Word count: 3.7k

As soon as the occasion presented itself, Emily and Y/N did not hesitate a single second to spend the weekend together, far from their home. Windows rolled down, their hands glued together as Emily had the other on the steering wheel, they couldn’t stop freaking out about the simple concept of ‘vacation’.

“How did this even happen? You never get days off. I can’t believe your phone hasn’t started ringing. This is insane.” Y/N moved her right arm around as she spoke.

“Right? I can’t believe it either. It’s been… months.” Emily said.

“We finally have a weekend to ourselves.”

“Just us and the little one.” she said, briefly looking at her when the road was empty. "Let’s enjoy the final weeks before she never lets us rest again.”

“You said it,” she sighed. “We’re going to fuel ourselves with coffee.”

Emily doesn’t answer to that, eyes on the road.

“Is something wrong, Em?”

She blinked, “No, I just… spaced out for a second. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay. That happens. Did you…” Y/N started to say, but the buzz of her phone stopped her. “Oh… He found out.”

“What?”

“Reid. About the… prank we did on him, that’s not going to be good when we come-” she rambled, before Emily yanked her phone out of her grasp; throwing it somewhere behind. Probably in the back seats, not that it matters. Emily wanted this phone away. “What was that?”

“Can you just… this time is for us. You see him all the time, so do I, but he's not here now! It’s just us.”

“Come on, he was just texting. I wasn’t going to stay on my phone all day.” she argued, “I gotta text back at least.” then unbuckles her seatbelt to turn around.

“What are you doing?” Emily yelled.

With her phone in her hand, she yelled back, “I’m answering the text! Calm down, he’s not getting more time than you with me.”

“You make me sound like I’m acting jealous, or something.”

“Are you?” Y/N asked, eyes on her phone.

“It’s kind of difficult not to be when you talk about Spencer so often.”

“He’s my best friend, am I not allowed?” she asked, defensively. Taking a breath, she looked away from her phone. “I am giving all my time to our couple, you, and the human growing inside of me, so I am allowed to do other things, like talk to my friend, just for a minute.” Then she stopped talking. Went back to her phone, and the car was as silent as ever.

It’s never been that silent.

They’ve never been so pissed off at each other, they’ve swore to stop when they had to, calm down and apologize.

There wasn’t any apology.

Just the light sound of y/n’s fingertips hitting the screen. That was pretty much it.

“Marry me.”

See the full post

48 notes - Posted December 13, 2022

#4

Nothing ever lasts forever | E.M

STRANGER THINGS 4 VOL 2 SPOILERS

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gen!reader

Warnings: Death of important character, death mention, possible light mentions of s1-s4 pt1, graphic details

A/N: I'm sobbing too

It's been hard.

Incredibly hard without you around. I can't believe this isn't some dream, or hell, Vecna taking me in a very long trance. I wished it would be that for a while.

That, just a moment, it wouldn't be true. That you would just be there again. That I would still be in your room, surrounded by the heavy metal music, the scent of cigarettes, and your arms around me. The warmth of your body, and your breath tickling my skin as you kissed me.

I don't think I will ever love someone the way I loved you. I don't think anyone could ever make me feel like you did. I feel like a void every since that day, I stopped crying because I don't have anything left in me, I'm pretty sure I cried all the water I had.

For a moment, I waited the moment where I'd feel your fingers wipe my tears away. You would always do that whenever I cried, and now a stupid tissue has to replace you.

I won't see you again.

That's why I have to accept. But I don't want to, I don't think I can. I've known you for too long that I'm not sure I'm able to live without you.

You were one of my best friends, we've gone through hell and back together, almost died a couple times, but we've made it out, together. Every time.

You were supposed to have made it out. You weren't supposed to leave me standing all alone. Neither the others.

Having to see Dustin's smile disappear when he saw me come out the portal alone was the worst thing I've ever have to witness. I held him as he sobbed uncontrollably, as I told him what you told me before dying.

If everything goes back to normal after this, I promise we won't split up the Hellfire club. I will fight for it to stay, it cannot be shutdown. It's what you dedicated part of your life to.

I never understood a thing in the game, but I still came everytime, sitting with a book in the corner while I heard you and the others scream for hours. I stayed each time to put back everything in place, and walked out of the school with you.

Now, it'll probably stay empty for a while. The school might be closed for a bit, and the news didn't make it easy. They've promoted the club as a 'satanic cult', and everyone probably believed that.

If only they knew what this club meant. All the people in it, the memories, the bond we shared. It wasn't just a club, but also a family. You made sure everyone felt welcome there.

You took Dustin, Mike and Lucas under your wing when no one else did. They grew with you, became more confident, because you kept telling them to not care about others. To simply be yourself, because trying to be like someone else was 'completely and utterly ridiculous'.

We were sort of like... Parents for them. We looked after them as much as we could. Tried to protect them from everyone who tried to hurt them.

I would've almost kicked Jason in the face for harassing you if it wasn't for Steve separating us.

It took time for you to like him, you two have had fights before, but then the whole Vecna thing happened, and it somehow brought you closer.

He's been the one that's been checking up on me these last days, trying to bring me out and change my mind.

He's sort of saved me, I was doing kind of badly in my room, blinds closed, wearing the same clothes. I was a mess, yeah. I can admit that.

I can see it's hard on him too, but he doesn't show it. He's always been the type to keep things to himself, especially when others had problems. He preferred to comfort rather than be comforted.

Talking about comforting, I talked to your uncle with Dustin, the other day. He really cared about you, always believed you were innocent from the start, no matter what everyone said. He loved you, truly.

I'll make sure to visit him from time to time, we'll look after him, don't worry.

About the others, well, Mike and Eleven reunited, Nancy and Jonathan as well, Lucas ended up fine, but Max didn't.

She died, and then she came back. Ever since, she's been in a coma. No one knows if and when she'll wake up. We can just hope for the best, that's all we can do, unfortunately.

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52 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

#3

2AM (Spencer Reid x gen!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender neutral Reader (there might be some very light fem!reader mentions)

Category: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: none I can think of!

Summary: The reader locked themselves out of their apartment out of the middle of the night, but a certain genius living down the hall might be able to help.

A/N: Excuse me if Spencer is OOC lmao it's been a WHILE since I wrote about him. Prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins!! :)

Word count: 1.9k

There couldn't have ever been a day worse than this one, in my whole existence— not one that made me want to give up, go to my apartment and never go back to my workplace ever again.

First off- I arrived late. I didn't turn on my alarm the day before, and woke up at 8AM instead of 7AM.

One hour isn't a big deal, you would say. Well sure,  for a high schooler. 

I had to give that lame excuse, and well… they didn't believe it— everyone throws that one, so it gets old. I've had to work like hell all day to make up for the hour I've missed as if it was one week to my superior (the guy's a bit dramatic).

Second; on my way home, my car decided to stop two times. The little guy decided to play the old trick of the dying engine— turns out a bang on it is enough to stop that drama queen. It's really time I throw it away, I've had it since college. That car is lucky I wasn't on the freeway, I would have gotten yelled at for blocking the road.

Then— because the day didn’t stop there, one of the back tires ended up dying just as I found a parking spot. Here's to another-I-don't-know-the-high-price-of-it-repair off my bank account … as if I needed another bad event.

The finishing touch was when it started raining, and of course, I had forgotten my jacket this morning. Which meant that I had to walk in the rain because running would cause me to break an arm and end up in the ER with another-very-unknown-high-price. 

By the time I got to the door of the building, it was around 2AM. I had to get up in 5 hours. Pretty great amount of sleep for the next day waiting for me.

I didn't even bother to check if the elevator worked. It worked one time out of two and could guarantee you a whole night of sleep inside if the doors would decide to not open. 

I've already been there, except it was the afternoon. I watched at least two movies of two hours each before a technician even bothered to show up.

When I reached the fourth floor, and proceeded to put my hand in my left pocket where I always keep my keys— my hand didn't touch anything but the fabric. 

That's… weird? Maybe it's in the others? 

I plunged my hand in the right pocket, still nothing. I tried both of the pockets at the back— they were as empty as a bank account at the end of the month (trust me, I truly wasn't in the mood for jokes, but that just went through my mind).

I really started to panic after my unsuccessful attempts to find the keys in the pockets of my pants, they're always there! I haven't put them anywhere else in years.

I set my bag on the floor, took my flashlight and examined the whole bag— to the point of emptying it out on the floor out of despair, just in case I had missed it by whatever means— still no sign of them.

There wasn't any way I could have left it at work. I didn't open my bag a single time, all I did was re-organise files as soon as I arrived. I only touched my bag again when I left. It was in my locker, which was closed by a lock— so they couldn't have been stolen, lost, or whatever crazy scenario.

The only place left… right inside of my apartment. I had just locked myself outside at 2:30AM. Right when everything was closed. I could only hope my landlord could pick up, which wasn't 100% sure by looking at the hour.

Still, I took my phone again and dialed the number, just in case he happened to pick up.

I called once.

Twice.

Then soon, five times… all calls had gone straight to voicemail.

He wouldn't be answering until 8AM in the morning, which was impossible. I couldn't stay all night outside. 

I started to get really upset, I had no way to get in, I've just had the worst day, I was really tired, I was cold and just wanted to change into dry clothes; this had to be a nightmare. I was cursing myself for forgetting the keys this morning as hard as I could, I couldn't believe I could have forgotten them, they were right there, on the table next to the door.

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74 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

#2

If I only could I'd make a deal with God, and I'd get him to swap our places | E.M

Pairing : Eddie Munson x gen ! reader

Warning : ST4 VOL2 SPOILERS, possible mentions of graphic details, coma, BUT it ends well, it's a fix-it fic !!

Summary : After the recent traumatic events, Eddie has ended up in the hospital and fell into a come. Reader visits everyday, in hopes he'll wake up.

A/N : yes I needed to do that after what happened 🥲 this is my apology for the other fic LMAO @smalluniversecollector

W/C: 1.3k

It marks one month since Eddie hasn't opened his eyes, today. One whole month without him.

Without the sound of his voice.

Without moving his arms in all directions like a sugar - high toddler.

Without the sound of his guitar playing.

He's just been there, laying in this bed, doing nothing else. I just wish he was awake.

Without the smell of whatever thing he'd smoke.

A month without all of those things. I have to admit, it feels empty, not having those in my life. It's like the world doesn't make sense now that it doesn't have him to fill it.

He's just been there, laying still, doing nothing. We probably couldn't have gone out of the upside down without injuries, so I just wished he had something that wouldn't keep him so long at the hospital at least.

I wish Eddie wouldn't be the one going through this. I've been feeling so guilty with my sprained wrist, it's nothing compared to what he has, and I wish we could've swapped places. I love him so much that I would do that for him.

But again , he'd be the one worried to death , just like I am right now. The one that wouldn't be in a coma would still suffer in some way.

I just wish we would just have something that wasn't bad at least. I wish he'd be there with me, and that we'd just have to laugh about a stupid sprained wrist and something else kind of broken, but not fatal for him. He'd play non-stop with his crutches if he had to have those.

We'd switch between his house, my house, Dustin's, we wouldn't stop moving around.

If only that was the only thing that happened. I wouldn't be here, sitting all day, hoping he wakes up.

"You know, I actually knew you before." Eddie said.

"You did?" I asked, surprised.

"In elementary school. You probably don't remember, because we weren't even in the same class. We never talked. I was... Much quieter before, the quiet type that wouldn't have the courage to tell he liked someone. I always watched you, from time to time. I still liked you, even with your bad haircut."

"That one was horrendous! How did you still like me?"

"I guess I just really loved you. And I will always love you, even if you get a messed up haircut."

If only Eddie saw what I did to my hair. I couldn't stay with this upside-down-monster-blood on my hair, even if I'd wash it, and it reminded me too much of what happened— so I just cut it off myself.

It's grown a bit since, but everyone can still see how badly cut it is.

But he won't care, probably. He'll still somehow find me pretty, in some way, even if I have no idea how. I'll probably mess with him a bit, it's funny when he goes into attorney mode to defend his case.

I hope he has nice dreams, at least. I don't want him to be trapped constantly in a nightmare. It's best if he dreams of hellfire, moments we had in the cafeteria, when we smoked under the bleachers, or when we skipped school because we didn't want to go to science.

That's what I want him to dream about.

As I got up from the chair, taking my stuff, I approached his bed and took his hand in mine. He still felt warm, he wasn't gone.

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89 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you // S.H

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: light mentions of ST s1-s4 events

Summary: With the help of the kids, Steve secretly organised a proposal to you.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: just thought this would be cute 🤩👍 sorry if it's kinda long and bad 💀

Steve could not express how much stress he had been feeling the last few days, between trying not to get caught, not to seem too suspicious, make sure the kids would do the same, try to spend time with you so you wouldn't worry— he was a mess inside. 

But he didn't care.

He wanted to organize the most beautiful proposal he could do for you, he wanted you to remember it forever. 

So... he asked for help to the only people he knew: kids. Except for Robin, and Nancy, but they were outnumbered compared to these children. 

Besides, you liked them a lot. Steve thought that if you were to have any type of celebration, you'd want them here. They counted a lot for you two, you've known them ever since the incident that happened with Will— when you were in highschool with Jonathan.

And that's when you met the famous Steve Harrington. Famous was a good word to use, because he was. With his great hair, great face, personality and his 'keg king' title, who couldn't love this guy? 

As for you, you were just a sort of outcast, hanging out with Jonathan in the corner and developing pictures with him in the red room between classes, the kind of people no one would pay attention to— you two were considered freaks. But you never really mind, you were fine with this lifestyle. 

But people like Steve, Carol and Tommy would just have probably laughed at you, approaching them would only earn you a bullying session. 

Therefore, you just stayed there, watching him from a distance. Jonathan always told you to stay away from this 'jerk'. 

The first time you talked to him after those months of contemplation was at a party, Nancy had taken two extra flyers from a girl who was giving them out. She thought it would be nice for Jonathan and you to go and try to socialize a bit more. 

Jonathan was reluctant at first, but eventually agreed when you said it'd be nice.

When you had gotten out of his car, you immediately felt overwhelmed by the number of people in and out of the house. You knew that no one would look at you in this entire crowd, but somehow you were still convinced you'd look like a complete clown in there.

You weren't a party girl, just a nerd that hung out with kids at the science club, played DnD with them after school, or just looked over them when their parents were busy. You'd be laughed at if they knew you played the role of the babysitter with them.

You weren't embarrassed by it, even if they were younger, they were still nice to be with, but you didn't need to get bullied; so blending in with the walls at school was better than that.

By the time you had gone in and turned your head, Jonathan had already disappeared from your sight. This had either meant that he had decided to chicken out, or that a certain girl named Nancy had gone to have a  more-than-friendly chat with him. 

As you made a path through the crowd, and made your way towards the drinks, you suddenly tripped on your own feet, ending up in some guy's arms.

Lifting your head up, you were met with Steve's worried eyes.

"Hey, are you fine?" he asked. 

"Yeah, yeah, I am." you said, stepping away from his touch. "Thanks for... catching me, I'm sorry I almost took you with me in the fall. I wasn't drunk I just... tripped on my own feet." 

Steve smiled, "It's okay, there's a crap ton of people here."

"Yeah, a bit... too much. That's true." you admitted.

"Do you... want to go outside the street, then? It's less crowded. Just in case, you know. But if you want to stay here, then I can stay or you can... Yeah." he stopped himself from rambling any further, bringing his hand in his hair. 

"Outside is fine, if you don't mind. I wasn't supposed to come here to begin with. 

Nancy dragged me here." you confessed. 

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201 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jiminrings]

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

:O

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

:O

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

[rocorambles]

Hit It Till It Breaks

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play

Prompt: Hard At Work

Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light. 

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.  

(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)

It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult. 

Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for! 

But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step. 

And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line. 

Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity. 

You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor. 

A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder. 

Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing. 

You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes. 

If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think. 

But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate. 

Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place. 

Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission. 

But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm? 

Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have? 

So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes. 

Or so you believe. 

You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds. 

There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods. 

It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path. 

“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.” 

Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.  

 You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers. 

“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.” 

You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd. 

But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants. 

You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place. 

It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable. 

And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…

 “So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”

 “Oye! Oikawa-”

“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”

There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face. 

Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you. 

You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right? 

Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.  

Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home. 

If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of. 

But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you. 

You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru. 

It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.  

So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries. 

And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.    

Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”. 

Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips. 

The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame. 

It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.  

Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing. 

When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch. 

You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”. 

It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four. 

But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting. 

And history repeats itself. Over and over again. 

Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you. 

Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock? 

And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.

You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint. 

Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of. 

Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy. 

Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases. 

“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.” 

He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with. 

But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it. 

“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him. 

It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you? 

But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use. 

So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose. 

Anything, huh? 

In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him. 

Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly. 

They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary. 

Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast. 

“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.” 

You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face. 

“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”

Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim. 

There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy. 

Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...

“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.” 

“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”

The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll. 

And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.

“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.”