#a very small and fucked up part of me feels like if things do go bad then what does it even matter and even better if whoever were to know

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

#lmaoooo #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #its a milkmaid dress for sure #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #unedited

[livingformintyoongi]

BTS fic recs

I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.

Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK

summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.

Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.

Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.  I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.

Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.

S'more than friends by @borathae MYG

Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.

Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.  Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….

Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.

Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH

Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.

17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.

Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS

JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.

The proposal by @hansolmates JJK

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.

Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH

Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.

Orange tulips by @kainks JJK

Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #fanfic #bts imagine #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #fiction #bts x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jimin x female reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #hoseok x reader

[bougiebutchbinch]

God I'm such a sucker for dom/sub edizzy where Ed enjoys domming because he gets to come up with endless fun 'fuckeries' (or.... scenes), and Izzy enjoys subbing because he's fucking gaga for Ed in all his Whacky Weirdness (affectionate), and god DAMN, this stressed-out little chihuahua-man needs to turn his mind off and just exist.

But it gets stale, eventually.

Ed is the flavour of neurodivergent that needs endless variety, whereas Izzy is the flavour of neurodivergent where everything needs to be the same forever, please, or I will have a nervous breakdown. Plus, neither of them have any idea how to manage each other's emotional needs!

Ed topdrops HARD. He requires a lot more aftercare than Izzy, but Izzy is kinda awkward and embarrassed about giving it, and is definitely awkward and embarrassed about needing it himself.

It's like, the 1700s. Neither of them have read 'the new bottoming/topping book'.

So, obviously, things crumble.

To the point where one time, they're setting up a scene, just going through The Familiar Motions (which to Izzy are such a source of comfort, and to Ed a source of growing torment) when Ed reaches his emotional broiling point. He crumples to the floor in tears, tugging at his hair, tearfully confessing to Izzy that he can't do this, he can't, he can't -

Cue Izzy panicking, tied to the bed, halfway to subspace already, now jolted out of it and adrift in a tidal wave of brain chemicals, his only thought what the fuck did I do wrong? Is it me? Is he tired of me?

(because deep down, he's been afraid of that for some time)

But his captain obviously needs something. And Izzy's gonna try his best to give it.

He's tied up to all four bed posts. He can't move, can't fucking get to Ed to stroke his hair and kiss him and do all that other soft shit he should hate a whole lot more than he does. But he can flop back on the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Coralling his spiralling thoughts.

He has to hold it together, for his captain. Has to do this, for him.

"C'mere, Eddie," he says, but his voice is all broken and scratchy and weak, so he clears his throat, tries again. "Eddie. Here."

And Eddie, snivelling, underlip trembling, comes. All dressed up in his leathers, beard big, shoulders broad, looking the very part of Blackbeard. Except for his tear-filled brown eyes - which are looking at Izzy so fucking warily, like Ed expects him to give him a fucking scolding.

And - yeah, maybe if this had been in the middle of a firefight, Izzy would've. But it's not. it's just the two of them, together, and right now, hurting Eddie is the furthest thing from his mind.

"What d'you need?" he asks, all gruff. Tugging at the ropes, rough hemp chewing on the tender insides of his wrists.

Ed gives a petulant little shrug. Fucker. Izzy's not a mind reader; he can't just intuit...

But... maybe he can. Ed's shoulders are shrunken, his spine stooped. He looks like a wet fucking cat. Pathetic. Useless. All the things the great Blackbeard should never be.

But Blackbeard is a myth. Eddie's a man. And Izzy knows better than most, how men can act as one thing and deep down, be another.

He thinks of the moments when he feels so fucking small and useless and broken. How Ed makes him feel good... And, glancing at the persistent bulge in Eddie's tight leather pants - how neither of them have said the word they agreed on, that'd bring this whole farce to a close - Izzy knows just what to do.

He licks his dry lips. Either this works, or Blackbeard snaps and kills him. Luckily, Izzy's always liked the thought of dying at his captain's hand.

"Wanna be mine tonight, Eddie?" he asks.

Ed's eyes go wide. Then narrow. Whole fucking face journey, mashed into a couple seconds: surprise, anger, fear, relief. Izzy waits patiently for him to settle, gripping the ropes that hold him spread-eagled for his captain's attention. Heart fluttering in his chest like he's staring down an oncoming enemy battalion: outgunned, outmanned, but still hungry for the fight.

"C'mon then," he says, nodding to where, despite it all, he's still half-erect too, bare cock plump against his scarred thigh. "Up here, there's a good b-boy."

His voice almost breaks on the last word, every instinct screaming at him not to demean his captain in the way he likes to be demeaned. Ed's so much better than him, brighter and sharper and fucking brilliant; he's not so weak as to need this. Or at least, he shouldn't be. Right?

But it's hard to focus on that when Ed crawls over him, danger in every movement, sleek and lithe as a jaguar. Fucking beautiful.

Then he ducks his head to bury in Izzy's neck, over his swallow tattoo, and nods.

"Good boy, telling daddy what you want," Izzy whispers into his hair - the same words Ed was supposed to say to him, when all this was over. He feels his captain sigh against his swallow and go deliciously slack.

It ain't what Izzy likes, as a rule, but for Ed... for Ed, he'll do damn near anything.

...Then Izzy gives Ed a healing dommy sloppytoppy, all while still tied to the bed, Ed crying while he rides him into the mattress. They hug after and hold each other, but not for nearly as long as they should. And everything hurts like an infected wound, but they can't stop picking at this thing they call a relationship until it scars.

#ofmd #ed teach #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd izzy #edizzy #blackhands #ed babygirl teach #ed teach born on a beach

[penguinbuttcheeks]

going to a rave with the 141 boys

A/N: can u tell im excited for my upcoming rave bender? the next few weekends are gonna be intense and i’m here for it

cw: alcohol, casual drug use

ghost

- let’s be real, he would never actually agree to go to a rave with you. the closest you’ll ever get to taking him out to something similar is a bar, and it’s going to be the usual dingy one near base. he rarely even goes to that one unless it’s for celebrations or he wants to brood solo with some liquid luck by his side

- in the highly unlikely instance you do manage to bring him, he surprisingly fits in - visually at least

- his balaclava and simple compression shirt that he’s worn seems to be the vibe of everyone else, just very toned down. maybe he’s a casual raver, not too keen on dressing up like everyone else is what passer-by’s think

- not that anyone’s really paying attention, they’re all either tripping balls, high off their faces on MD or too busy feeling the music to care

- ghost is definitely feeling out of his element

- so many shirtless, sweaty men doing ‘ridiculous’ dances and women in skimpy outfits that flash all sorts of bright colours

- you’ve definitely dressed up for the occasion.

- ghost is absolutely floored when he sees what you’re wearing for the first time

- “what the fuck are you wearing”

- definitely acts more like a body guard than a rave buddy. everyone is so intoxicated. he’s on high alert the whole time, keeping a keen eye on you while you lose yourself to the sensations of the music rumbling deep in your bones and the feeling of bodies brushing up against you by the stage where the dj continues to do their thing

- you’re probably not even close to the stage, you’re further back where there’s less people and simon actually has the space to be able to breathe

- it doesn’t matter though, you’re still having a blast and dancing away to your hearts content

- ghost definitely can’t help watching the way you move your body, trying his best not to seem creepy, but you seem so in your element - it’s almost like watching you in the shooting range. you’re so lost in focus

- it’s hot as hell

- even if he thinks the way you’re dancing looks absolutely ridiculous, you’re confident and he finds it deeply attractive

- “don’t ever bring me to one of those again”

soap

- probably the most on board out of everyone to join

- you guys absolutely sat in your room together while you did your makeup and dolled yourself up

- “oi lad/lass, can ye put some o’ that on me?”

- soap gives you the biggest shit eating grin when you pull out a small baggie of pills to get the both of you through the night. you better pray there’s no upcoming standard military drug tests

- you are definitely going to be the one babysitting the entire time

- you almost lose him several times and the only reason you were able to find him again was because you heard loud scottish yelling

- arriving for the first time, soap can’t help but let out a low whistle. “fuckin’ ‘ell”

- tries to mimic the way you and the people around him are dancing but can’t for the life of him figure out how tf you’re all moving your bodies so quickly and fluently to the rapid beat of the music

- almost falls on his face trying the first time

- you’ve got him dressed up in the sluttiest, most ridiculous outfit that you think you’ll ever see him in. it’s definitely caught the attention of a few people around you

- god he’s so cocky when he realises he’s popular amongst the crowd with all the men and the ladies

- it may be boosting his ego but don’t worry. he’s only got his sights set on you

- speaking of sights set, soap can’t stop staring at you. you’re wearing the most revealing outfit ever seen and he swears then and there that he’s going to marry you

- he knew that he wanted to make you his, but tonight definitely sets that in stone

- the following weeks, you’re getting amused grins and eye rolls from your teammates (ghost is absolutely the one rolling his eyes)

- soap had secretly snagged a video of you dancing to your hearts content and made a point to make sure everyone bears witness to it

- when you find out, soap is sulking in the rec room with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his head, sulking like a kicked puppy

- oh well, at least he managed to hide one video of you after forcing him to delete them all

gaz

- it’s not his scene, but god he’s curious

- agrees to tag along with you, and boy is he glad he did

- his eyes are all over you the entire night. he just can’t help it when you’ve prettied yourself up so good

- “you look stunning, love”

- he’s content to just watch you truly be yourself, mingling and swapping bracelets with strangers and drunkenly stumbling around the place with a joyous laugh leaving your lips

- definitely would need occasional moments away from the crowds to allow him the space to gather his thoughts

- soap is probably there with the both of you tbh. it was originally a trio outing, but soap has run off to do his own thing

- don’t worry, gaz is here to watch over you and make sure you’re safe

- he takes it upon himself be be the sober one

- besides, he wants to remember the way you sway your hips to the beat and drag your fingers through your hair

- can’t help the slight pang of jealousy when he sees you dancing with another man, his eyes raking over your body and his hands reaching out to touch you

- “move along buddy”

- gaz is quick to pull you next to him, a steely glare directed at the man as he pulls you in to his side, your wide, surprised eyes looking up at gaz

- gaz isn’t usually one to be overprotective or jealous, but god is it hot when you bear witness to it for the first time

- absolutely chews soap out on the way home for stranding them amongst the hundreds of people at the rave

- you’re sleeping soundly - a small, drunken yet content smile on your face as your head rests on gaz’s shoulder in the cab home

- gaz can’t help but smile at you softly, hand reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes as you rest

- he definitely stood out like a sore thumb at the rave, but it definitely won’t be the last one he’s attending. how could it be? you were such a delight to watch

- tonight will definitely be replaying in his mind for the following weeks to come

price

- you would lose your job so quickly if you ever brought price along to a rave

- occupation aside, unless you have the luck to win the lottery - price is probably also not joining you

- the poor bastard is not big on crowds, especially amongst so many young adults that are so intoxicated on more than just alcohol

- he’s not the oldest there, far from it, but his time serving in the military has made him feel detached from popular trends and the normalcy of civilian lifestyles

- you probably end up leaving early. the loud music gives him a headache, and god - do people actually listen to this?

- “don’t you dare take that shot”

- you definitely downed it after giving him an evil smirk

- the entire night is spent on the sidelines of the dance floor. there is no way that price is dealing with that many people pushing up against him while also dealing with the pounding in his head

- bitching and moaning aside, price is glad to see you letting lose and enjoying yourself instead of burying yourself in work and training

- you’re a hard worker, he knows you deserve this chance to cast aside the burdens of your occupation

- he’d never admit it, but he was glad to get off base (even if it was at an event he would never willingly go to on his own accord)

- he’s standing a few metres to the side, hands in his pockets and chuckling, shaking his head in amusement as you dance away in your own little world while he sips on a beer

- he’s discrete about it, but his eyes slowly travel over your body when your eyes are closed and you’re too lost to the beat of the rhythm - body coated in light layer of sweat, skin gleaming an assortment of colours as the lights bounce off your body

- he feels bad when he says he need to get the hell out of there, but his heart melts a little when you’re nothing but understanding

- he would never admit it, but it wasn’t the worst night of his life

- he got to see a new side of you that he never expected to see

- walks past the training room a few weeks later where you’re busy training. it’s late and everyone has retired for the night, but you’re gunning it on the treadmill, the same music the two of you listened to that night out playing from your bluetooth speaker

- he can’t help but think back to the way you moved your body so seamlessly to the harsh beat of each melody

- it’s ingrained permanently in his memories. it’s altered his brain completely

- he treasures it like an overprotective dragon does with its hoard of glittering gems and gold. what he saw that night was for him to see and him alone. the 141 boys have no idea what they’re missing out on

#cod headcanons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #call of duty headcanons #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #141 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #john price headcanons #price x reader #price headcanons #captain price headcanons #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap headcanons #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #gaz garrick #gaz headcanons

[weskerssunglasses]

Hello! Not so long ago I came across your blog and to be honest, it helped me a lot!! Your Resident Evil headcannons are just something, really. And so I came to you again for a little help....do you know that feeling when you're sick, your legs can't hold you, your head is cracking like an eggshell and you have chills like you're at the North Pole and hell at the same time, but you literally NEED to work, be active and other adult stuff? So this is literally my trouble. Could you please write something about Wesker while working in an Umbrella and f!reader who is very ill but still works day and night? I know your Wesker is not so romantically cloying, but I still wonder what you think about this :) Thank you in advance!

Rating: E for Everyone, SFW

TWs/CWs: N/A

Summary: On occasion, Wesker will care for you... in his own way.

He wouldn't stop you from doing absolutely necessary tasks, but if you were seriously ill, he'd stop you from going to work... without admitting it was him

"Wesker, my car won't start!", "What the hell? Who slashed my fucking tires?", "I cant find my keys!", "My laptop wont turn on? I cant even work from home like this!" Cut to Wesker going "Oh no... I wonder how that happened. I guess you must have to rest for the day then."

Also, I do think that he would be a little more watchful when you're ill, because a small part of him worries you caught one of the several biohazards he handles daily. He knows his body would brush it off, but he's not so sure about yours

Honestly, the first time you stay at his place instead of him coming to yours is probably when you're very sick around him for the first time. He would rather die than admit it, but he can't sleep unless he can monitor you to make sure he didn't bring anything home to you

Of course, though, when he pitches you staying at his place until you recover, he does it in the most condescending way possible. "Well, my home is cleaner, has healthier food," etc, etc

He still expects you to pick up after yourself when you're at his place, though, and isn't exactly eager to cook/run errands for you. He'll do it if you're sick enough/you ask enough, but it's begrudgingly (I actually hc he's a fantastic cook. You're in for a treat!)

Overall, he's still kind of... ah, himself... but it's probably when he shows the closest thing to genuine concern for your wellbeing

#resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil ask blog #anon ask #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 9: Bound in Blood

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: To some, the blood bond is as sacred as marriage.

Word Count: 1,979

Notes: Today (April 29) is Lucy's birthday! This might be the sappiest thing I've ever written. Also, I couldn't find much concrete information on blood bonds, so apologies if I got some of the details wrong or had to fudge any of the real-life aspects of these bonds to accomplish what I intended in this fic. Don't try this at home, kids; blood-born illnesses are a thing. Warnings for depictions of blood, self-inflicted injuries, and smut.

Masterlists: Main • Series

Previous Part • Next Part

The knife stung as it bit into the flesh of her left palm. Blood, like red pearls, beaded at the first prick, then rushed from the wound in a small gush as she increased pressure on the blade and it sliced deeper into her flesh. She dragged it across nearly the full length of her palm, leaving a diagonal, bleeding line from the base of her index finger to the heel of her palm opposite the side of her thumb in its wake. 

When Tommy had asked her what she thought about marriage, she had been honest with him. Her feelings were conflicted. All her life, marriage had seemed to be akin to a cage. She’d watched women–not just her mother, though she was certainly the most potent example–have their entire beings almost entirely stripped away, until nothing, not even their name, remained. Nothing but a maid, housekeeper, nanny, and whore all rolled into one.  

Perhaps she was being a bit harsh, but that was the example of marriage she had been exposed to for almost her entire life.

And it did not ultimately matter what Tommy wanted, either. She knew it was never his desire to cage or chain her. But it would not be up to him. Society had a very particular expectation for women who were married. And if he wanted to stand even a miniscule of a chance of being accepted into the circles he longed to be a part of, he could not have an unconventional wife. At least not now. 

Perhaps someday, with the changing times and more modern outlooks…if equal rights for women ever truly properly took off, then maybe. But not right now. 

And she would be a rubbish wife. Bored out of her mind. She detested cleaning, was an absolute disaster when it came to knitting and sewing, and she was certain that sitting at home with the knowledge that her husband and his boys were out enjoying all the action and thrills of the life without her, would eat away at her. 

She never had handled the feeling of being left out very well. 

She’d grow to resent it. Resent her life. Maybe even resent him. And that was not something she was willing to risk. 

He had been startlingly understanding, all things considered, when she explained her feelings to him. He knew her so well, he probably had half been expecting it. He’d just stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head. 

“I don’t need a ring and a certificate to know that I’m going to love you forever,” he’d told her. She’d locked her arms around his neck, stretching up on her toes to touch her forehead to his. 

“I plan to love you forever too,” she’d affirmed. And she meant it. Just because she could not say yes to being his wife, did not mean that they didn’t intend to be together for the rest of their lives.  

“But the door is always open. If you ever decide someday that you do want it,” Tommy had promised. Her brows raised, she’d looked at him with eyes that were only half joking. 

“Really? What if you end up marrying someone else?”

He’d scoffed at the mere suggestion, but must have caught the seriousness behind the teasing tone in her voice, because he’d pulled her closer, fondly kissing her nose. “Doesn’t matter. The promise still stands,”  he’d shrugged as if it were no big deal. “You decide you want me to marry you, and I’m already married, I’ll just get divorced.”

Laughing, she’d shook her head. “I don’t think you can ‘just get divorced,’ love. It would fuck your reputation.”

He shrugged again. “Would be worth it,” her laughter faded at the dead seriousness she saw in his eyes as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’d do anything for you.”

There was something about the way he’d said it, the complete and total certainty, that made her nearly want to cry. No one had ever loved her like this before. 

Completely. Passionately. Unconditionally. 

“There’s something else we could do. In the place of an official, legal marriage. If you’re interested,” he’d suggested, voice but a tempting purr in her ear. And when she looked at him, brow raised with intrigue, he smirked devilishly. 

And so here they were, kneeling in front of each other on the rug in the bedroom of her flat, each of them clutching a dagger in one hand, drawing it across their palms. Lucy watched the blood ooze from her cut, slightly flexing her fingers. She set the knife aside, looking from the warm, red gush to see Tommy doing the same, the dark red of his blood striking against the pale white of his skin.

He looked up, sky blue eyes glimmering in the low light of the candles they’d lit. Her eyes traced over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheeks, softened slightly by the freckles dotting his skin. Those eyes that could be as cold as ice or as warm as a sunny sky boring into her. Dark fringe falling over his forehead. When it was less styled, like it was now, he could have almost been described as a little boyish.  

The blood pooling in both of their palms dripped between their fingers. Sticky and warm.

Slowly, being careful so as to not jostle the cuts too much, they pressed their palms flush against each, then, just as slowly, interlaced their fingers.

Lucy gasped quietly at the feeling of his cut kissing hers. Their blood mixing together. Pouring into each other. Running through the other’s veins. 

If they had not already been one being simply split in two before, they certainly were now. Lucy shuddered, Tommy’s free hand going around her waist and pulling her a little closer, keeping their bleeding palms clasped tightly together. She tilted her head up, nose brushing along his neck and jaw as she did. He dipped his head to kiss her, deeply and open mouthed, the slow stroke of his tongue against hers making her moan softly against his plush lips. 

To some, the blood bond was as sacred as marriage. An unbreakable intermixing of the two bloods. The closest thing one could get to entwining their soul with another. Not only was it a symbol of the deepest possible love and trust, but also a silent promise of eternal devotion. A bond that would last as long as the scars remained present on their skin. A permanent mark tying them together for as long as they both lived. 

Of all the scars marking her flesh, faded but never truly to disappear, this was the only one she would ever truly be happy to have.     

His blood ran in her veins, now. He was a part of her. Forever.   

She’d have wanted it no other way.  

She kissed him back hard, the hand not clasped in his landing on his chest, feeling the steady rise of his breathing and the thump of his heart. Their palms squeezed impossibly tighter against each other, the blood coating them slick, smearing all across their palms, impossible to tell which belonged to whom. 

When they finally parted for air, foreheads resting against each other, they looked down together at their still clasped, bloody hands. 

It was done. 

Tommy’s arm around her waist tightened, somehow pulling her even closer to him, his lips on her forehead. Lucy closed her eyes. He was so impossibly warm, body large and strong and safe around her. She could have stayed like that forever. 

“I love you more than anything,” he said, and the words left tears brimming in her eyes. The weight of those words was not lost on her. 

“I love you too,” she said, angling her face up to his. “More than anything.” 

He smiled at her softly, head dipping to kiss her one last time before they parted, and his fingers flexed a little around hers. Their mixed blood was starting to run down both of their wrists. 

“We should get bandaged up. Before we both bleed everywhere,” he mumbled. 

“Mm,” she nuzzled at his chest. “Yeah.”

He reached for the gauze and bandages they’d set to the side in preparation. Some of the blood had congealed, half sticking their palms together, and it took a little bit of gentle fidgeting to pull them apart. Lucy hissed as Tommy poured a helping of alcohol over her cut, leaning into the kiss he brushed against her temple in apology. They cleaned and bandaged each other’s cuts with quick, practiced movements, examining their handiwork critically to ensure it was satisfactory and wouldn’t leave the other open to any complications or difficulty in healing.

Once that was done, Tommy was gathering her back up into his arms again, kissing her everywhere he would possibly reach. She giggled, overjoyed at the blatant display of affection, returning it as eagerly as she knew how. Strong arms scooping her up by the back of her thighs, he lifted her up onto his hips, standing in one fluid motion and carrying her towards the bed.  

Still kissing, they collapsed in an entanglement of limbs onto the mattress. Clothes were shed hastily, and then there was just the sounds of pleasure and utterances of love filling the room. Her fingers clenching in his hair as he kissed his way down her body, lips, tongue, and fingers working together once he’d reached his destination to make her cry out, back arching off the bed. 

And then he was over her again, wiping his mouth and looking far too pleased with himself. He grinned when she needily dragged his mouth back to hers, legs wrapping around his waist, eager. They both cried out when he sank into her in one deep thrust, the penetration serving as the second unioning of their bodies that evening. 

The bedframe creaked with the pace of their love making; thrusts steady, slow, and deep. Lucy clutched to him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. Never wanting to have to spend another moment of her life without him. 

She’d given him her soul. And in exchange he’d gifted her his heart. And now, with their blood running through each other’s veins, it was as if the merging of their beings had finally completed. They were one now. No one and nothing could ever tear them apart. 

She cried out his name when his cock hit the spot inside her that made her see stars, his thumb rubbing circles into her clit. Her head tipped back against the pillows, babbling nonsense about how good he always was to her. How he always took care of her. How he knew her more deeply and intimately than anyone else ever could. 

When her walls squeezed around him, Tommy moaned her name like it was a prayer. Like it was the most precious thing in the entire world. And then his lips were at her ear, whispering over and over again how much he loved her. That she felt so good. That he promised to love her for as long as he breathed. Maybe even after that. 

She came with a sob of his name against his lips as he kissed her, felt it as he came with her at the exact same moment, filling her with a groan, hips rolling to a stop to rest inside of her as he emptied while she tightened around him like a vice. For hours, or maybe only minutes, neither of them moved, just laying there, holding each other as tight as they could. 

Later, Tommy laid reclined against the pillows, with Lucy cuddled securely in her spot on his chest. And there, in the dark and quiet of night, they traced each other’s bandaged cuts, and whispered promises of eternal love.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

Previous Part • Next Part

Masterlists: Main • Series

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #my fanfiction

[toastsnaffler]

sometimes I wish I was a more interesting + charismatic person just so I could keep conversations going bc I like sharing space with other ppl but they routinely lose all interest and leave once I run out of things to say/start talking abt things that don't concern them :-(

#and boy do I run out of things to say so fast when I'm talking to friends who ik dont give a fuck abt any of my interests... #theres only so much i can make small talk or ask them questions abt their own interests/lives yknow. man #it just makes me feel like im constantly competing with smth else for other ppls attention all the time + constantly losing #eg. when i say smth + my flatmate reaches for her headphones a little dark souls banner appears across my vision like INTERACTION FAILED #and i can feel my rsd + insecurities praying on it like the more i feel this way the more it prophetically fulfils itself #by making me less willing to try and take up space so i become a smaller and smaller person around others #it frustrates me a lot sometimes and i dont rly have the will rn to undo that and force myself to take up more space regardless #ik this sounds like a water is wet complaint like oh nooo woe is me people get bored of me when i talk abt boring things (!!) #but when im spending time w ppl i like i enjoy listening to them talk even if im not interested in the subject bc its Them talking #and if they care abt smth then its worth hearing abt!! to me anyway. but it rly feels like no one reciprocates that idk #oh well not that it matters. at least i like the shit im into so i can talk to myself abt it in my head or on this site lmao #and i like myself as a person even if other people dont so theres always that. ur no 1 should always be urself <3 #voicing this makes me feel so stupid + embarrassed urgh. i hate being anxious abt dumb shit i hate being the sort of person who worries #that their friends privately dislike/just tolerate them or whatever bc id never want a friend to worry abt whether i thought that abt them #and im not naturally a very insecure person!! i think im just feeling particularly vulnerable atm bc of the season + jobhunting so long #+ the fact im dissatisfied with my current social life + still feel very wobbly from not having other ppl i can trust or rely on etcetcetc #and thats just bleeding into other areas. and it sucks a lot. but theres nothing to be done abt it rn bc im not going to communicate it #to other ppl bc im not pathetic enough to make my anxieties someone elses problem + beg for pity attention im too proud for that 👍 #anyway. gonna play some noita + then i rly need to work out today bc thats probs part of why im feeling so shite #if ur reading this ignore me im just venting itll pass. i hope youre having a nice day :^) #.vent #.diaries

[lyxchen]

I'm listening to the audiobook of a book I had to read for school and that I now need for my final exam and honestly it's making me so angry. Like I don't like the book at all, I don't like the characters I don't like the descriptions and I don't like how it's written and it makes me want to throw my phone against the wall!!!

#it's like red hot anger i'm feeling truely #not a lot of things get me this angry but damn this book does it #it has some good parts but then all of a sudden the autor starts describing the most useless shit like how the wall is painted or that some #dog is peeing on the floor and i just can't #i can not #this fucking book i hate having to read it so much!!! #and the main character is so naive and not in a sweet way but in a what are you even doing do you not know how the world works?? kinda way #and it's pissing me off #like i don't care if other people like the book they can read it if they want to but why the fuck do i have to read it??? #i could also talk about how it deals with a subject that is somehow brought up in a lot of books that i have to read for school But instead #of really talking about and showing the subject all these books just talk around it from an outside perspective #hhhhhhh #i am so glad when this is over honestly my attention span is so small already how do these people genuinely think i can read a book i #don't like when i don't even have enough motivation in me to read a book i Do like #anyways #all i wanted to say is that it's very strange to feel the actual need to throw your phone against a wall #but this book has got me to that point and yeah #i'm going to stop listening to that audiobook now because i'd like to keep my phone thank you very much

[flutterby5]

.

#some days are so hard like I am very not okay a lot of the time these days but rn I’m actually okayish so I can’t put it into words #but like basically I’ve been have trouble sleeping recently and it’s only gotten worse…to the point where I’ve been waking up every single #night and it’s so hard to get my brain to be sleepy again and go back to sleep #and it’s ruining my life like being exhausted makes life sososo hard I’m miserable and everyone around me is laughing and lighthearted and #I just wallow in my own misery…like when I’m okay I’m okay but when I’m not I question everything #I should really just quit my job and focus on dealing with this chronic insomnia I have now but I’ve been trying different things and #nothing has stuck..part of me probably isn’t trying hard enough but how can I with a full time #job and the need to feed myself and chores and getting my mind of everything and trying to workout more like?? #that’s why I need to quit but I am hesistant to move home like I don’t have to but still then I wouldn’t need to pay for rent yknow but I #I also kind of don’t want to move home bc it’s quite nice not to and for covid reasons bc I’m like the only one I know that still cares #about covid lmaooo but like there are definitely pros too like I’m glad I still have the option tbh #but I wish I could just sleep and didn’t have to fight my own brain every single night why can’t I just be normal like I know no one is #normal but also why does everyone else do such a good job hiding it while I just feel like I’m just bringing the mood down by struggling so #much..like also my dept so small rn and I actually do lie my coworkers they really already take a lot of weight comparatively and are #reliable that I feel bad idkkkk why can’t I just sleep like seriously. wtaf is wrong with me #random thoughts don’t mind me #I’m so fucking tired

[soldier-poet-king]

Everytime I think the saga of highschool friend drama weddings is over ...

How can it not already be over

Ex highschool bff got married again??? Or rather, I think they had a small church wedding right at the beginning of COVID for legal and religious reasons, but had ig a renewal ceremony today and the actual wedding reception with a billion guests and all the dresses etc etc etc

Ofc I did not know about it until I opened instagram and saw it plastered everywhere

And ofc all my horrible terrible feelings that I ignore 99% of the time resurfaced and I'm drowning, and I can't even just wine and game to decompress BC I have COVID and booze is off limits and it's just ....

I'm really going to just have to live with having fucked up my whole life for the rest of my life? But always being unsure if it was really my fault? No real closure, just guilt and regret.

Fight down the pang of jealousy that my friend married a man I introduced her to and is now tight knit friends with the friend group I brought her into, it's all the same, I'm just no longer there

Do they miss me? Do they think of me? On days like today, big occasions we'd dream and giggle about as teens, is there even a passing memory of me? Or was I not worth even that much?

I am not so old that this is distant past, no matter how I lie to myself, say I am okay most days, convince myself that what ifs are useless and i needed to leave the city to survive, no matter that I ended up stuck back here anyway

#personal posts #sorry folks. ill log out and be quiet:/ #go back to my strange sad little books and songs and poems #since that seems to be my alotted part in life #am i always to be lonely? not even romantically. it seems i cant hold onto friends either. no matter how hard I try #either i fuck up. or adulthood and distance and time do that job for me #i am very tired. and even i am only so introverted. media is only so much a distraction and a balm #not even just indulgent media. but good and great works too. even they are not a replacement #ah well. time to read lonely stories. a creature of sad strange small things #i finished the sparrow last week and i think of emilio again. #trying to make sense of the course of his life. what do you do when you feel god has led you somewhere #and then everything is ripped out from beneath your feet #how do you make sense of the wreckage #i am tired of being a person some days #i cannot sleep. the covid cough has arrived and lying down is horrible. but i cant just pull all nighters #i won't heal and ill ruin myself for when i do have to go back to work #sit propped up in the dark it is i suppose #i apologize for the theatrics but really it has been a lot lately. today especially #not to be like. i will go use cult following video games and weird poetry and sad music to cope #but i will #also i will take the meds and drink water and do all the dumb human necessary stuff. but this isnt really a physical ailment

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

[doobea]

YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO

Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.

He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 

Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 

“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.

He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 

First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.

Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.

“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.

Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.

“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.

Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.

He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 

Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”

Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”

Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”

“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”

The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”

“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”

“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.

“Huh?”

“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 

“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.

If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.

Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.

“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”

He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”

“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?

He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 

“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”

Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”

By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?

“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.

He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.

You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”

Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”

You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”

And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 

Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 

“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”

Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”

You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 

“Huh?”

Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 

By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.

Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.

“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”

He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”

“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”

“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 

Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.

“Carry me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 

He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”

You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 

You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 

You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —

“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.

He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.

“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.

You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.

Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 

“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.

Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”

“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”

He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”

Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 

Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.

“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”

“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.

“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 

And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 

When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.

You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”

He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”

“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  

Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 

You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”

“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.

You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”

Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 

He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”

“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.

“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 

It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.

Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 

“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 

“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.

“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.

“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”

“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”

“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.

Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”

There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 

“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”

Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.

What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.

His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.

“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.

“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.

Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”

Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.

“Ooh, where to?”

You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”

“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 

“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”

“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”

As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.

“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”

“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 

“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 

You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.

And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”

That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 

Satoru’s not really sure.

It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.

On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.

It might not be such a bad idea.

Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 

His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 

“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”

Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”

“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”

He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 

He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”

“What? I haven’t given you—”

“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”

“You called me!”

“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.

“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”

Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.

Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.

“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.

He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”

The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.

“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 

Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”

He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 

Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.

And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.

“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 

“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”

“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 

Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”

Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”

“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”

Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”

“Maybe not a date—”

“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”

“You never called me dumb, though?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”

Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.

He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 

After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 

“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 

So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 

Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 

It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 

Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”

To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”

And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”

A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 

“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 

And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 

“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”

Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”

Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 

“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”

“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 

It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.

“Choso?”

He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”

Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 

You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”

And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.

Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”

Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”

Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”

You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”

He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”

“You finally want to talk about it?”

He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 

The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 

“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.

I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.

But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 

Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 

You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.

Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.

You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”

Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#event: i got my eyes on youೄྀ࿐ˊˎ #doobea writing #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

[helluvapoison]

Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...

Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3

Birds of a Feather

Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man

• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room

• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)

• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention

• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other

• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up

• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy

• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon

• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere

• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!

• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane

• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)

• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though

• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs

• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”

• He’s fucking done for

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you

• Mortifying is an understatement

• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant

• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing

• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag

• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you

• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!

• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall

• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!

• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”

• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”

• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?

• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it

• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough

• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels

• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner

• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!

• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!

• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!

• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!

• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it

• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his

• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”

• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”

• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanons #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel adam headcanon #hazbin hotel adam imagine #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute headcanon #lute imagine #lute x reader

[rafecameroninterlude]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

pairing: rafe cameron x camgirl!reader

summary: ❝screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need to feel like i do.❞ — rafe cameron is your top donator, having been tuning into your live streams for several months. one night of texting and spilling too much details has you and rafe running into each other at a party, and knowing exactly who eachother is. even when you’ve only ever streamed anonymously.

warnings: shy!reader, mentions of porn, masturbation (with a toy), praise, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, solo orgasm, squirting, flirty text messages, reader is super nervous but finds the whole thing thrilling nonetheless

word count: 3.2k

a/n: series masterlist <3 part two here

rafe was hooked the second he saw your pussy on his screen. the way he found your live was nothing but pure accident, but when he heard your pretty voice and your even prettier moans, he couldn’t look away. that was about seven months ago, and he’s been tuning into your lives ever since, even making himself your top gifter so he had a special banner next to his name when he joined your chat. tonight was no different, he’d pop in, compliment the hell out of you, spam you with gifts and just have your moans playing in his headphones as he finished up some work for cameron development on the computer.

rafe never jacked off to porn, considering every woman he’s ever prompted to have sex with bent at his will. apart of him thought that’s why he liked you so much. your identity was a secret so he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what you looked like off camera. there was anticipation, desire, he craved you like no other; and he didn’t even know anything personal about you. “hello everyone! i’m going to wait a few minutes to let more people join before i get started.” rafe took in your cute lingerie, loving the sheer material of your top.

you wore white knee high socks with pink bows at the top. “fuck,” he whispered to himself, typing up a quick greeting.

rafecam: hey gorgeous

it was quiet for a few seconds before your perfectly manicured hand waved at the camera. “hi, rafe! always lovely to see you in here.” you smiled even though your face wasn’t in frame. truth be told, you actually enjoyed having him in your live. besides ensuring you three to seven hundred dollars a stream, he had a way with words, most, if not all of his comments always made butterflies flutter in your stomach. you watched as the numbers rose on your view count, your fingers teasing the waistband of your panties.

rafe groaned, quickly locking his door as he stood his phone up on his work desk. “alright, it looks like i have a good amount of you in here, so i have some exciting news to share with all of you!” you angled the camera so your ass looked fuller. “my top donators can now message me privately! i’m very excited to interact personally with some of you.. rafe especially.” you giggled, watching the influx of angry emojis flooding your chat. rafe bit his lip, sending you a hundred dollars. “ah!” you squealed, bouncing up and down in your plush chair, rafe’s eyes glued to your tits.

“see! he takes care of me every stream..” you trailed off, leaning back in your seat, bringing your knees up to your chest. “i missed everyone so much,” you half moaned, letting your tits spill out of your bra, “i haven’t touched myself since last week.. i think i’m extra sensitive this evening.” you parted your legs, your pantyclad cunt on full display. rafe licked his lips, noting the small damp spot between your folds. “i’ve been thinking.. since it’s friday i’ll let you guys choose what i do today.” you clicked your mouse a couple times, a poll popping up on the screen.

y/n wants you to pick..

- try out a new toy w/ me <3

- feeling simple, only fingers today

rafe thought for a second, instead of choosing between the two, he proposed something different.

rafecam: how about you fuck yourself with that pretty clear pink dildo of yours and moan my name when you cum?

you read his comment, your thighs rubbing together. rafe felt the corner of his lip lift as he watched you get up, coming back with the same dildo he was talking about. “i don’t normally do name tributes, but you’ve been pretty consistent rafe.. so why not?” you watched as donations started coming in, all asking for a name tribute. rafe felt himself getting annoyed with the other men in your stream, sending you no where near as the amount he sends you, asking you to say their name too.

without hesitation, rafe sent you three hundred dollars, with the added note; thank you beautiful. “what?!” you gasped, having reached your money goal for the day. “you’re too sweet, thank you,” you emphasized the ‘you.’, moving the camera up so the lower half of your face was now in frame. rafe sat mesmerized by the fullness of your lips, and that pretty smile before you brought the dildo up to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. “fuck,” rafe felt himself getting hard in his shorts as you started taking inch by inch into your throat. you moaned, and for the first time ever he felt jealous that it wasn’t his cock instead.

you smiled, tapping the damned thing on your tongue before you got back in your original position, this time your underwears were gone, and your cunt sparkled with your slick. you ran the tip down your folds, teasing your entrance as rafe watched intensely. a whine cut through the air as you inserted the toy, your fingers circling your clit. rafe glanced at your hands, you had french tips on your nails and silver rings on your fingers, he even saw a small bow tattoo on the side of your middle finger.

“i don’t know everyone, this feels like it might be a short stream.” you laughed nervously, your eyebrows knitting in pleasure as you kept a steady pace. “mhmm, fuck,” you gasped, hitting the spot that made your eyes screw shut. rafe’s jaw ticked as he tried his best to ignore his growing erection. “this feels so good, i haven’t been fucked in so long..” you were telling the truth. you’ve been a homebody since exams started and you really weren’t the one for casual hook ups either. you could barely contain your moans as you rubbed your clit faster. rafe found your struggling not to cum too soon to be the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

your obvious desperation to get yourself off, paired with the restrain to let yourself over the edge was truly a glorious sight. rafe ached in his boxers, refusing to be like every other loser in your livestream. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, your head rolling to the side as you started to hear your heartbeat in your ears. rafe could tell by the way you were clenching around the toy that he now hated, you were close to finishing. rafe didn't know what he wanted to do to more now; edge you for hours until you're begging him for his cock, or making you cum so many times that you cry.

"i don't think i could hold off anymore," you cried, your thighs shaking as you plummeted into pure bliss. "rafe!" you cried, cumming harder than you could currently handle. "oh, my god," his name falling from your lips is forever going to be ingrained in his brain. you shook violently, still fucking yourself as you felt a pressure in your lower abdomen. "i think i'm go-" you screamed, feeling a gush come from your cunt. rafe's mouth fell open as if he was moaning silently. "what a fucking show." he whispered to himself, your legs trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "i've never done that before." your voice was weak as you laid with your thighs open, your pussy still on full display. rafe watched your tits rise and fall with each breath, your hands resting on your stomach as you gathered yourself.

after a minute, you sat up, pulling a pink robe over yourself as you blew a kiss to the camera. "i really enjoyed tonight's stream, but if you can't tell i'm exhausted," you laughed, your hair falling to your waist, "i'm going to go clean up and get cozy for bed, but i hope to see some messages from my top donators now! all you have to do is click the message icon when you view my page. until next time!" you ended the live, a sigh falling from your lips.

rafe stared at the blank screen, his cock painfully hard. he decided he was going to clean up as well, a cold shower is what he needed right now. although the idea seemed to be a good one, he still fisted his cock to the echoing sound of you moaning his name. during your own shower, you wondered if rafe would message you, apart of you really hoped he did. even though you hadn't viewed his account, he seemed like someone you could have good conversation with. it wasn't until after you got in your pj's, did your skin care routine, and settled into your sheets that you pulled your laptop up, where twelve messages awaited. rafecam being one of them. saving the best for last, you answered the other messages first, opening rafe's with a smile on your lips.

[9:12 PM] rafecam: i won't lie, i debated with myself if whether or not i should send you a message. i don't watch porn, i never masturbated, i didn't have to. but tonight i found myself doing both of those things. just thought i'd let you know that.

you read his message several times, examining the words one by one until it was brainrot. it's rare for a man to say he doesn't have to pleasure himself, presumably because he has willing candidates at the snap of a finger. clicking his username, you scrolled through his public information, wanting to know something, anything about this mystery of a, quite generous, viewer. age; twenty-two, joined; july of 2023, resides in; outer banks. your eyes widened, your heart dropping in panic. he was so much closer than you thought. maybe a little too much. you were just one ferry away on the mainland. your roommate, however, is from outer banks herself. fuck, what if she knew this guy? you breathed out, staring at nothing as you started to rethink your life choices.

what are the chances that you would even see each other? there's nothing on outer banks that would make you go over there, and vice versa, or at least that's what you told yourself when you typed up a response.

[9:20 PM] y/n: well i'm happy that you messaged me. as for getting yourself off to the thought of me? i would say that means i'm doing something right lol.

[9:22 PM] rafecam: most definitely. are you going to sleep already?

[9:23 PM] y/n: not yet, i thought about watching a movie or something before then. you?

[9:25 PM] rafecam: nah, i'm actually catching up on a lot of work right now, it's kind of stressing me out. nothing new though.

you bit your lip, hesitating to send your next reply, not knowing if you'd be getting too personal or not.

[9:28 PM] y/n: what kind of work? are you currently in school?

[9:30 PM] rafecam: no actually, i co-own my dad's company and he has me in charge of ordering all of our supplies and taking inventory, boring stuff really :/

[9:32 PM] y/n: sounds like you're a very hard worker, i like that. i've been having to catch up on some work myself..

[9:32 PM] rafecam: school?

[9:35 PM] y/n: unfortunately yes lol. i'm majoring in psychology so it keeps me very occupied.

[9:36 PM] rafecam: is that why you stream?

you sucked in a breath. honestly, school was the only reason why you decided to start your channel. your parents helped you out a lot, already having your semesters and books covered, but it was up to you to make extra money for yourself.

[9:40 PM] y/n: yes. i try my best though.

[9:41 PM] rafecam: i respect it. well, i'll let you do your thing, i'm hoping to finish what i have to do tonight so i won't have to worry about it tomorrow. the last thing i want to do is work on my birthday lol.

[9:44 PM] y/n: omg!! happy early birthday <3 am i the first one to tell you?

[9:45 PM] rafecam: lol yes, thank you sweetheart.

[9:47 PM] y/n: aww you're welcome. i'm gonna send you a little gift for yourself, these are never before seen, i hope you like them.

you attached four images from your own camera roll, two with lingerie and two fully nude. a lot of the times you took pictures but just for yourself mostly. it wouldn't hurt to share these, especially with someone who contributed a lot to you. rafe leaned back in his chair, admiring the photos you sent him.

[9:50 PM] rafecam: so much for showering lol, thank you for these, gorgeous. goodnight.

-

“will you please just go out with me? we’ve been roommates for almost a year and we’ve never hung out outside of school and here. my friends from back home would love you. i wouldn’t leave your side either, promise.” you looked up at chelsea with unease. after finding out that rafe lived on the outer banks, you didn’t want to go anywhere near there. “i really can’t, okay? i’m serious, i have so much stuff to do.” minor stuff, but still. you weren’t in the party mood, but to see chelsea so excited about something and then shrinking into herself cause you said no broke your heart.

“please.” she pouted, her hands coming together as if she was going to pray. outer banks wasn’t that small, and if the party she was talking about was a true rager, there’d probably be way too many people to even run into rafe, if the man was even there. you were being ridiculous and overthinking the situation. “okay.” you sighed, chelsea squealing as she pulled you to her room. “let’s get you ready.”

four hours later, you and chelsea were stepping out of an uber, both of you glancing at each other before taking in the scene before you. there was people already passed out face down on the lawn, even some walking on top of the roof with beers in their hands. “what the fuck.” you muttered to yourself, taking chelsea’s arm in yours as you two made your way inside. even though you felt confident in your white babydoll dress and sandals, you couldn’t help but notice that everyone was wearing either a bikini or a collared shirt.

“no offense chels, but was there a dress code we didn’t know about?” you laughed, your friend smirking. “this is what being a kook looks like.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. what the hell is a kook?

“hey, who’s the birthday boy anyways?” you and chelsea moved through the sea of people in what you assumed was the living room. chelsea squinted, looking towards a small group of guys by the back door. “right over there. tall one with the buzz cut.” she pulled you to the front so you could get a clear view. and what a view it was. the man in question was so tall, he made his peers look ridiculously small. sharp features, but his eyes were soft. “come on, let me introduce you.” you followed your friend, hoping you didn’t look like the way you felt; out of place and shy.

“yo, chelsea!” another guy pulled her in for a hug. you hated how awkward you stood there, too nervous to look up until chels started talking. “guys, this is my roomate and best friend y/n, y/n that’s topper, kelce, warren.. and the man of the hour, rafe.” your smile dropped as soon as the name fell from her lips. it couldn’t be. making a quick recovery, you nodded to each of them, your eyes landing on rafe, your heart skipping a beat when you saw he was already looking at you. rafe whispered your name to himself before saying it out loud. “y/n?” you nodded slowly, chels making conversation with others nearby. “that’s a pretty name.” he extended a hand, his frame towering over yours. your knees felt weak with the look he had on you right now.

“thank you.” you swallowed, giving him your hand. he held it, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “i’ve never seen you around here, did you stay here on figure eight?” figure eight? you shook your head. “no i’m from the city. me and chels- i mean chelsea and i go to school together.” he studied you for a minute. “what’s your major?” fuck. your lips parted, psychology spilling from your mouth before you could stop it. as if something clicked in his head, you internally panicked as you remembered your conversation from last night.

“psychology? you don’t say..” rafe trailed off, finally letting go of your hand. you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “enough about me,” you cleared your throat, “how old are you today.. rafe?” you were hesitant to say his name, somehow saying it out loud made everything feel too real. if he said the number you were anticipating, you might just have it in you to run away from all of this. “twenty three.” and there it was, the answer you were dreading.

it’s rafe, the same rafe that has sent you thousands of dollars over the course of seven months. the same rafe you moaned the name of last night, the same rafe you sent explicit photos to. it had to be. with a house as big as this, and the quiet luxury of his clothing, it would explain why he’s been able to shower you in donations. suddenly the room felt small, realization of the situation hitting you tenfold. “come with me upstairs. just to talk, it’s too loud down here.” you looked back at chelsea, your friend no where to be found. so much for not leaving your side.

“i think i should go.” you glanced up at him, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “just one conversation. that’s all i’m asking.” he pleaded, his shoulders falling in relief when you nodded. he guided you upstairs and into a room where he shut the door behind both of you. you took a seat on the bed, rafe leaning back against the door. “you know.. i never bring anyone up here. but you? i don’t mean to sound like a stalker or anything, but i feel like i know you.” his words sent a shiver down your spine. “i’m sorry, but i think you’re wrong.” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding his gaze the best you can.

rafe tilted his head, walking over to you, squatting down before taking your hands in his. he turned your palms over, noting the same manicure, same rings, and the same bow tattoo he saw last night. his heart constricted in his chest when he looked up at you, your face just inches away from his own. you were the most perfect little thing in his grasp. “y/n, sweetheart, i’m gonna ask you something and you’re going to be one hundred percent honest with me.” you waited for his next words like you were waiting for a sentence from a judge. you knew he cracked the code.

“what are the odds that you’re a camgirl?”

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx smut

[lovelettersfromluna]

Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[evilminji]

I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic �� on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

#minji's writing #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #welcome to the family au #fenton family reunion