#had NO intent to EVER go until she left his ass on read .... didn’t react to the news a bunch of them were gonna seek out ‘jackson’

[notnctu]

haechan: the cocky | vol 2

━ welcome home to the housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, dirty talking, nicknames, dom!hyuck, penetration, oral (giving & receiving), slight degradation?, mentions of exhibitionist kink? ☆ WC: 3.6k  ☆ SYNOPSIS: after receiving haechan’s text messages, you hurry up to his room and the sexual tension is thicker than you can ever imagine. 

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: read vol 1 here if u havent already :) theres no plot yall its just smut,, this one a filthy one ha ha skjdhfgieas

When you enter Haechan’s room, his back faces you as he sits comfortably in his expensive gaming chair, clicking furiously at his mouse and practically abusing the poor device. “Why are you so worked up?” Your voice causes him to perk up, removing an ear from his headset. 

“Mark fucking sucks at this game.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he speaks directly into his mic and Mark’s tiny muffled voice shouts back at him. 

Leaning into Haechan’s face, his eyes leave his monitor momentarily to intently watch your actions. Your fingers grab hold of the built in mic and speaking lowly, you greet the other boy through the receiver. “Hi Mark.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow at your seductive tone and the happy smirk on your face when you hear Mark stammer back a faint, “h-hello, y/n.” 

“Mark, I gotta go.” Before even letting Mark protest and throw a fit, he’s hanging up the call and forfeiting his winning streak to finally finish what you two had started. You’re laying on Haechan’s bed with eyes that eat him right up, a look of lust and desire. 

His gaze bounces between the open door and the way your thin shirt does absolutely nothing to hide how erect your nipples have become. His signature face of disbelief: tongue in cheek and rolling his eyes, paired with a small scoff. 

“What? Are you cold or something?” He snickers, getting up to close the door.

“No... I’m just..” Propping up on your elbows, you glance briefly down at your shirt and then, away at the ground shamelessly. 

“Aroused? Turned on?” Haechan taunts as he leans down to hover above you, his fingers toying with the ends of the thin fabric. As much as you’re trying to avoid eye contact, he doesn’t allow for you to shy away for long.

“Maybe.” You gulp the pooling spit in the back of your throat, the tension rising in the room. “I came upstairs like you told me too.” Pouting, he finally has you fixated on him with a thumb on your chin. 

Making eye contact with him is not only incredibly intimate, but there is something mesmerizing and comforting in the way Haechan looks at you. “Right, my good girl did what she was told. How much longer can she keep that up?” His whisper is hot against your skin, but he doesn’t lean in any more. 

“Don’t test me, Hyuck.” You snap back gently, crossing your arms across your chest and almost immediately, Haechan pushes you lightly onto the bed. You yelp at the boldness, knowing that your bratty side might have edged him on.

“Hyuck....? Baby, we haven’t even started yet.” He smirks, and you wish for nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He has the absolute confidence to play with you all night if he wanted to. Cocky motherfucker. 

“Do something, please.” The whine in your voice catches his attention, only fueling his ego more than it has already inflated. 

“What does my pretty baby want me to do?” Haechan has the full audacity to sit back in his chair, legs spread wide and arms resting behind his head. He’s left you on the bed practically untouched, yet the moment you sit up, a small pool of wetness rushes in your panties.

He’s done nothing, but your body reacts to him too strongly for you to admit. “I want you to give me a kiss.” You mumble.

However, Haechan leaves no room for a pause. “Speak up.” His voice is low and dark as he watches you squirm in your shorts, your legs rubbing together for some friction. He just loves how needy he can get you to be.

“Give me a kiss.” A little louder this time, all the while being mindful at how thin the walls are. Haechan patiently waits for you to finish your beg, “please.”

He pats his lap for you to come sit, then opens his arms to invite you into his embrace. Your legs fall on either side of his thighs and his hands rests on your waist. Haechan peers up at the pout that hasn’t left your face and gently smiles. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There’s a sense of rivalry when he uses that nickname, holding less of a soft implication than when he calls you baby. “You’re taking forever.” You groan, rocking against him with a frustrated whine.

However, he holds you steady by your hips and chuckles mockingly, “it wouldn’t be fun if I just gave it to you. I’m giving you more of an experience to remember the next time you want to rub one out.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fast forwarding these parts in my brain.” Rolling your eyes, your hands find themselves lightly on his chest. He feels rather solid through his black shirt, “you’ve been bulking up?”

“Yeah. Can you tell? Johnny has been waking my ass up early in the morning to go to the gym with him because Jaehyun has class.” Haechan presses you up against his torso and you’re impressed at how sturdy he feels.

“So that’s why we have two jugs of protein powder taking up counter space. Doyoung and I were concerned at how much the other two were consuming, but I guess the portion includes you now.” Your hands wrap around his neck to pull him unbelievably closer, the tips of your noses touching now.

Haechan stares at you with hooded eyes and breath mixing with your own. “What does it taste like?” Your question seems to hold a sexual innuendo, or it could be the tension in the air as you both try your hardest from devouring each other’s lips right then and there.

“Mmh, tastes like shit. Rather taste something else instead.” Haechan licks his lips and tilts his head only slightly. His mind is clouded with lustful, heavy thoughts of feeling your plushy lips against his own. And the possible taste of your tongue lapping with his brings him much excitement as well. 

“Should I try some?” The power has slightly shifted into your hands as Haechan seems to be in a trance from your proximity and sensual drop in tone. But you’re both wrapped up in each other’s scent of shampoo and it’s enough to drive you both hungry for one another. 

“Want your lips around something else.” His thumb pulls your bottom lip down just gently before slipping it into your open mouth. Your tongue circles his finger, slowly sucking to mimic the feeling of his cock. It sends tingles down to your lower abdomen and a small moan erupts from the back of Haechan’s throat. 

Something pokes at your inner thigh and without needing to look down, you already know how turned on Haechan has gotten. He won’t be able to wait it out anymore. “So pretty.” Haechan coos as he drops his finger from your lips. “Do you still want your kiss, baby?” 

“Of course.” You lean in thinking that Haechan is going to finally give you a good smooch on the lips, but he picks you up and tosses you onto the bed. He’s discarding your shorts and underwear, peeling it off your legs and tossing it somewhere in a corner. 

He spreads your legs wide open, “holy fuck, you’re dripping.” And you’re so close to telling him to stop exaggerating until he gathers slick from your hole and it unleashes a small waterfall cascading onto the bed sheets. “Since when were you this easily aroused?” 

Before you can retaliate, Haechan softly kisses your clit and slowly licks a long strip up your cunt. You arch into him, his lips pressing against you just a bit harder than the first time. Eyes are locked in on yours as he flicks delicate licks at your bundle of nerves. “Good girls get the best kinds of kisses.” 

He will never be able to get enough of your taste or your legs squirming at the jolts of pleasure that run down them. The fact that stands is that Haechan inexplicably loves pleasuring women and performing cunnilingus, that’s undeniable. But there’s something very special about the way your body reacts to his smallest gestures and sensual words, so responsive and almost like, your body knows how much it wants him. 

And if you two hadn’t been so cordial and polite about living with each other in the beginning and considerate of your other housemates, he would’ve fucked you a long time ago. It always felt as if Haechan was walking on thorns around you, making sure he didn’t cross the lines of making you feel uncomfortable. 

Nonetheless, your pajama shorts do a terrible job at covering you up or the small moments when your shirt would ride up your stomach, he always found his stares to linger. And not to mention, all the moments he has walked by to catch a glimpse of you masturbating. Truthfully, he’d been masturbating to the thought of you too and only to find out that you shared the same interest in him. 

You suppress your moans with your hand, afraid to risk the chance of getting caught by your other housemates. Nevertheless, your muffled moans encourage him to lick harder, building a quick rhythm. “Hyuck, please fuck me.” 

It’s agonizing the more he edges you closer to your release. Haechan is addicted to lapping your endless flow of juices that he almost chooses to ignore your breathless plea. He lets go and the knot of pleasure in your stomach dissipates for the time being, your chest rising and falling rapidly to catch your breath.

“I thought you lost your ability to speak for a second.” Haechan doesn’t mean it as a joking statement, it’s meant to instill slight humiliation in you and with a bit of a teasing tone in his darkness.

You don’t take his words to heart, “I can speak and I know what I want.” Your voice is brighter than before, until Haechan’s grin turns mischievous and he’s plotting his next few words carefully. 

“Use your smart words and tell me what you want then.” Taking off his clothes, his shaft slaps against his stomach with an angry red tip leaking precum.

The sight of his dick has you clenching around nothing and it’s obvious where your focus has shifted to. You mindlessly take off your shirt, “for a computer science major, you sure like words a lot.” 

“For someone who’s ruining my sheets, you sure like to verbally under compensate how much you want me.” Haechan rubs his tip at your entrance to gather lubrication, a small whine escapes his lips as he’s trying his best to hold back from ramming into your wet cunt.

“Hyuck, please. I want you to fuck me speechless.” A sparkle catches in his eye as he’s gleaming at how the dirty words spill from your pretty mouth. Pulling you up, he holds your head steady and lightly taps your lips with his tip.

“Speechless? I guess you won’t be able to whine with my dick in your mouth.” And slowly, you invite his hot shaft into your warmth and the saltiness hits your palette. A long string of profanities fill the air when you lick the underside of his tip and hollow your cheeks to suck more of him.

“Do you think you can take the whole thing?” He moans and it shocks you how raspy his voice suddenly got. His hand is rests on the back of your head lightly, patting and smoothing your hair lovingly. If it isn’t for that lost lustful look in his eyes that represent an innocent curiosity, you wouldn’t have awarded his request. 

Opening your throat, he slowly guides you further down his length. Haechan’s reactions are ungodly satisfying as he throws his head back toward the ceiling and instantly tightens his grip in your hair. 

“Fuck, fuck. Okay, I’m done messing around.” He manages to chuckle playfully, pulling you off his dick as a string of saliva draws from the disconnect. Pulling you by your hair, he tilts your head upward at him and he leans down to kiss you: open mouth, tongues lapping, spit mixing.

The kiss ignites a flame in your chest being that it’s probably one of the hottest kisses you’ve ever experienced. Haechan’s dominance is caring, yet strong enough to remind you just how rough he has the ability to be. 

“Lay on your side.” You do as you’re told as Haechan unravels a condom to slip on. A feeling of excitement bubbles up in your core, you’re finally getting fucked. It’s not the first time you and Haechan have done penetration, but it’s definitely not enough times to satisfy your lust for him.

With your body facing the door, Haechan lays down behind you, a hand on your hip to press your ass against his shaft. “How cute. We’re spooning.” He taunts menacingly and reaching around to rub your swollen clit. 

You yelp and Haechan covers your mouth instantly. You’re a moaning mess in his hands as his fingers work magic stimulation down below. Every squirm has you bumping your ass up into his hard on. 

Just as his tip enters your wet hole, a knock on the door has you both halting your movements. Your heart is racing at the interruption and it’s not going to look too good with Haechan’s dick barely up your cunt and hand hovering over your clit. There will be no lie that can get you two out of this naked situation.

“Haechan, can I borrow your speaker?” It’s the voice of Jaemin. Of all the times that he actually comes home, you’re midway having sex with Haechan. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Haechan though, maybe a bit agitated that someone interrupted the tension, but overall he doesn’t seem phased. Then, you remember all the times you’ve knocked on the other boys’ doors during their hookups and it’s gotten to the point that no one really cares. “For what!?” 

“To use in the shower.” A jiggle on the doorknob panics you, but Haechan is lifting your leg in the air and enters you fully without a warning. You bite back a moan as Haechan buries his face into your neck. The initial stretch from his girth stings with pleasure and you relax into him when you adjust to his size. “Why is your door locked?” 

“Fuck, is this making you more wet?” Haechan whispers lowly into your ear and a smile grows against your skin.

“Shut up.” You mumble, clenching around him every time Jaemin tries to open the door. He starts moving his hips into you, long thrust that jolt your body every time he enters. 

Haechan laughs, “it’s in the bathroom already, leave me alone! I’m with someone.” He’s looking down at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the tight grip you have on the sheets. You feel all of him, his cock fills you up to the brim, grazing upon your sweet spot. 

Jaemin scoffs on the other side, “okay. Use protection, kids.” And his shadow disappears from under the door. Haechan removes his hand and his hot moans fill your ears.

“No wonder why you leave the door fucking open. You want us to see you, don’t you?” His hips ram harder into your pussy, rougher and faster than before. The soreness begins to occupy your lower regions from how much Haechan stretches you. His dirty words aid you closer to your release. “Imagine if I didn’t lock the door and Jaemin saw me balls deep in you. You’d like that, huh? What a slut.” 

Your legs feel like jelly as a familiar exhilaration surges through your limbs. “Speechless now, aren’t you?” Haechan smirks and drops your leg. Hands hold you by your waist as he bottoms out, his balls slapping your thigh slightly. Once he’s nestled in deep, he starts rubbing circles on your clit once again and you’re squeezing around him so well that he doesn’t need to move. 

The added sensation brings you to your edge, along with the feeling of fullness. Without a fail, he always makes sure he takes care of you first. “I’m gon-- cum.” Words are jumbled in your scattered, empty brain. The release is on the tip of your tongue, the tips of your toes, Haechan’s rhythm on your bud doesn’t falter.

“Cum on my dick, baby. I want to feel you lose control.” His final encouragement leads you to your demise as your pussy clenches around him sporadically and your legs shaking from the pleasure. But it doesn’t stop, Haechan starts fucking you through your orgasm, so fast that it almost has you crying out of the intensity. His nails dig into your skin. 

“Oh-- shit! Hyuck, I--” Haechan slams your hips down to match his and you’re holding onto the sheets for your life. The toe curling pleasure overwhelms you and you can’t tell, but you’re cumming again. It just never seems to stop.

With a last grunt and full thrust, you feel his dick pumping inside your walls. He kisses your shoulder tenderly and smooths over the moon crescents he left, “shit. I’m sorry for calling you out like that.”

“It’s fine. It was hot.” He pulls out and an emptiness disappoints you. Turning around to face him, you latch on and give him the biggest hug. “But I really just am forgetful! I don’t leave it open on purpose....”

“Baby, you say that, but do you also forget that you live with five other horny men?” He kisses your temples and sits you both up.

“That’s why I do it when you guys aren’t home.” Getting up, you start putting on Haechan’s shirt and slipping on your panties. “Do you think Jaem is done showering?”

“Probably, that guy uses 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash so he just lathers and rinses.” Haechan ties the condom and tosses it into the trash can. He slips on a pair of fresh briefs and starts removing his soiled bed sheets. “Come back and help me make my bed when you’re done.” 

Nodding, you slyly walk out of Haechan’s room. You turn the knob as quietly as you can and shut the door softly. When you spin around, Jaemin walks down the hall with a towel around his naked shoulders and his black hair wet from his shower. His toned body is glistening with droplets as his sweatpants hang low on his hips and the waistband of his underwear peek out. 

You’re so distracted by his appearance that you don’t realize he’s caught you leaving Haechan’s room. “Is that Haechan’s shirt?” He quizzes you, a smirk twitching his lips automatically at your doe eyed expression. “And are you not wearing pants, y/n?” 

“I see you’re done with your shower.” You say quickly and you dash away to the bathroom. The moment you shut the door, you’re surprised by a random girl on the toilet.

“Sorry!” You both yell, covering your eyes at the sudden intrusion on both ends. 

“I didn’t realize there wasn’t a lock on the door.” She says and you turn to face the door to give her some privacy.

“Yeah, it’s been broken for awhile now. We usually just put a sticky note on the door to show that it’s preoccupied.” You don’t even question who she is, denoting that it’s either Jaehyun or Johnny’s lady friend. “I’ll just wait outside.” 

“Wait, do you live with Johnny?” She asks and truthfully, you’re not ready to go back outside in any chance that you’ll bump into Jaemin again. The bathroom is where you intended to hide until enough time is passed, while also doing your business. 

“Yeah. We’re housemates.” 

“Ah, that’s comforting to know that there’s another girl here. I thought it was just a house of guys, so I was a bit worried coming over.” Her voice sounds reassured and you’re exhaling out all the anxious air you had pent up since seeing Jaemin.

“That’s good. Men, am I right?” You try laughing to lighten the mood and surprisingly through the steamy suffocation, she giggles back. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never seen so many bottles of AXE body spray in one bathroom.” Living in a house full of men, you realize you slightly miss the bathroom talks with your girl friends. 

“Look in the tub, there are four bottles of men body wash, yet they always use mine! It’s a hoax.” You announce excitedly, despite still facing the door.

“I have the same one! I fucking knew Johnny smelled like white strawberries and mint, but I couldn’t tell if the scent was from me or him.” 

Maybe sometimes, it isn’t so bad living with a group of attractive men. You get to laugh with their hookups in the bathroom! And before you know it, Johnny is knocking on the bathroom door to the fit of giggles and questioning why there are two voices. 

“I thought you had left without saying goodbye.” He says.

“Damn, the sex was that bad.” You joke and Johnny fakes a laugh through the door.

“Let me know if Haechan is any better, y/n.” You gasp at his statement, but don’t respond. The flushing of the toilet and the sink running being the only noises in the room. You’re stunned. Knowing Jaemin’s big mouth, he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“It’s nice meeting you, y/n.” Johnny’s hookup gives you a warming hug before leaving and when she opens the door to join him, you give Johnny the middle finger as your form of response. 

“Nice meeting you too!” You yell back to her and shut the door to finally do your business. 

Great, now everyone knows you fucked your housemate. 

#neosmutcollective #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #neothestars #kpopscape #nct smut #nct scenarios #haechan #haechan smut #lee haechan #nct

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 3)

i did not expect this to turn into more than just a oneshot, but here i am, posting a part 3?? and there’s more to come??? lmao, im a mess, having a million wips at a time, whatever. enjoy this DIRTY piece in the world of Harry and Actress!Y/N hehe!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 3k

warning: NSFW content (we are taking a dirty turn in this part babes)

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“But are you really sure you’re fine?” Florence asks for the millionth time over the phone. “You know, I could come over anytime, have a few drinks and forget about the idiots who decided you don’t deserve that Emmy.”

“I’m very sure,” you chuckle, sinking further down on your couch, kicking your heels off your feet. “It’s not a big deal.” “Oh it is, but you are trying to act all tough, though I know it bothers you.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” you tell her truthfully.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you are this wise ass bitch, not some petty loser that I usually am.”

You snort at her words laughing loudly. Florence is by far one of the funniest people you know, she never fails to make you laugh, no matter what’s the situation.

“It’s sad that I didn’t win, but I’m fine. Really. Maybe next time it will be me,” you say, genuinely hoping this wasn’t your first nomination.

“Okay, I’ll stop bugging you, but call me if you change your mind and want company.”

“Thank you, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Once you end the call you let a long, heavy breath out that feels like you’ve been keeping in all night. Walking into your closet you stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking a look at yourself, still wearing the burgundy pant suit you wore for the award show. You were the only woman in pants all evening and you felt more powerful than ever. You’ve always loved to make a statement with your fashion choices and tonight you feel like you definitely succeeded in getting the message through: you are a bad bitch.

Stripping out of the outfit you hang it carefully before putting on some sweats and an oversized vintage t-shirt, feeling so much more comfortable already. Your hair is still in loose waves and you kind of like the texture, so you just leave it like that, moving into your bedroom to check up on some emails.

Cozied up under your duvet, laptop resting on your thighs, you start replying to some emails, updating your schedule for the next week. You almost don’t notice the text you get, barely catching the lit up screen from the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the device from the night stand you smile down at the series of messages from Harry.

“Bunch of idiots,” the first one reads.

“I’m suing them. All of them.”

“You looked fucking unreal by the way. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you read the last one over and over again. It’s been weeks since your number landed in Harry’s phone and you’ve been texting nonstop since then. Whenever you pulled your phone out to check if someone had tried to reach you, there was always a text rom him waiting for you, making you smile most of the time.

“Thanks Xx,” you reply shortly, not sure how to react to his heated words of calling the whole Television Academy a bunch of idiots, though it surely warmed your heart.

“Enjoying the after party?” his next text comes fast.

“Nope, I’m home already. Didn’t feel like partying.”

“What?! You not winning is not an excuse to skip celebrating. You still got nominated!”

“Already celebrated that, so I’m out of occasions.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Text me your address, I’m going over with wine and takeout.”

His bluntness in flirting and shooting his shot has been amusing to you since the moment he sat next to you on The Ellen Show. Harry Styles doesn’t shy away to try and show his attraction, or at least not towards you.

You hesitate a little, not sure if you want him here, but something deep down in your guts is telling you that you definitely want him to come over, some dirty thoughts already popping into your mind, but you are quick to get rid of them.

You send him your address and he tells you he’ll be over in twenty. You use that time to clean up a little around your apartment. You left in kind of a rush earlier, being a little late with your glam team, so you didn’t bother to leave the place in a decent state. It doesn’t take long though to clean up the mess and checking the time you see that you still have a little time until Harry arrives. As you walk past one of the mirrors in your hallway, you take a look at yourself, debating whether you should change or stay in your comfy homey outfit. At last you drop the idea to put on a different outfit, not wanting to look desperate when Harry arrives.

Not long later you get a notification from downstairs that a so called Mr. Styles has entered the building and is heading up to your floor. Running a hand through your hair you walk over to the front door and opening it you stand there, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the familiar ding hits your ear you notice how your heart skips a beat upon seeing him walk out.

“Hi,” you smile at him holding the door open for him. He looks amazing, as always, wearing a pair of brown high-waisted pants with a loose white shirt tugged into it, a teal denim jacket topping the outfit. He looks comfortable, but still well put together, something you have always admired in his style.

“Hello, Love,” he smiles back at you and pulls you in for a short, one armed hug before walking fully inside. “Didn’t know what stuff you fancy, so I got a bunch,” he admits with a chuckle, holding up two plastic bags completely stuffed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” you shake your head at him smiling as you lock the front door and lead him into your open concept kitchen.

“But I should have,” he argues, setting the bags down to the counter, packing out everything he brought.

Three bottles of wine, all of them different kinds, snacks, both sweet and salty, topped with an insane amount of Chinese takeout that could feed a whole family, not just two people. You put the wines into the fridge though you know they won’t get chilly enough by the time you open it. Turning to Harry you smile at him shyly, only just now realizing that he is in your home for the first time.

“Want a tour?” you ask, pulling your shoulders up to your ears.

“Would love that,” he smirks and lets you lead the way.

The modern apartment in Manhattan has been your home for a little over a year now. One of the first things you invested into once you started earning like an A-list celebrity. It’s spacious, you did the interior over once you bought it, formed it a little more to your taste. You walk Harry through the living room, the three bedrooms from which one is yours, the others function as a guest room whenever a family member of one of your friends needs a place to stay. There are three bathrooms in total, a study room that’s always a mess, your desk filled with scripts and books most of the time, but Harry tells you it suits your vibe.

“And this here is my wardrobe,” you end the tour, flicking the lights on in the walk in closet, probably your favorite part of the place. It’s bigger than your bedroom, but it’s exactly what you and your passion for fashion needs.

Harry curiously walks inside, his eyes immediately stopping on the burgundy pant suit you wore earlier that night.

“This, Darling, was an excellent choice,” he smirks over at you, his fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pants.

“Felt amazing in it,” you nod smiling.

“I bet you did,” he chuckles softly.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and sit at the kitchen island, roaming through all the food Harry has brought. A short silence comes over the room that’s broken by Harry first.

“So how are you really feeling about tonight?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug, but then feel his hand on your knee that’s closer to him and your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze burning down on you intently.

“No, I’m asking fo’ real. You don’t have to mask your disappointment.”

Licking your lips you look back at your plate filled with dumplings and you start to just poke them around with the chopsticks in your hand.

“Of course I’m disappointed. Who wouldn’t want to win? But there’s not much I can do about it, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t push it all down.”

“I’m not the type to rage very publicly, if you haven’t realized that,” you chuckle, diverting your eyes back at him, catching a soft smile on his lips.

“That I know of. Miss No Beef,” he teases you, even though you could pretty much say the same thing about him. “I was properly screaming at the screen when they said someone else’s name over yours.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“Mhm. I was rooting for you big time.”

“Well,” you sigh turning back to your plate. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nah-ah, none of that crap, Y/N,” he protests right away, dropping his chopsticks to his plate as he slides off his stool, stepping closer to you, one hand lying flat on the counter, while the other one finds the underside of your stool and he easily turns you so you are facing him, your knees involuntarily parting so he could stand between them. “I’m not letting you think of any less of yourself because of some stupid award.”

“The Emmys are not stupid,” you correct him, but it seems like he doesn’t even hear you, staring down at you with a smug grin, his hand moving from the stool to your waist.

“Mhm, they are. They made the most talented and beautiful woman think she is not the best of all.”

You can’t push down the smile that tugs on your lips as you watch him slowly lean closer. Heart beating faster, you let him do whatever he has on his mind, not finding the will to push him away. Not that you want to do that, you’d be stupid to say no to this man.

“Who’s this woman we are talking about?” you breathe out with a teasing smile. Harry smirks back at you, his hand squeezing your waist gently as his other hand moves up to the base of your neck, his thumb running along your jawline.

“The woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately.”

A desperate whimper tries to escape your lips, but you bite it back in time, feeling so lost how much effect he has on you with just a simple sentence.

“What are these fantasies about?” you find yourself asking as he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours.

You’re aching for his lips, to feel him touch you everywhere. You want to come undone under his hands and the breaking point where you won’t be able to mask up your desperate feelings is threateningly close.

“I’ve been thinking about making her feel real good. Watch her fall apart under my touch,” he murmurs lowly and this time, you can’t hold that moan back. Your lips brush against his, but he pulls back smirking, not kissing you.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when you feel his hand move from your waist to your stomach, cheekily teasing you as he is drawing circles around your belly button over the soft fabric of your shirt.

“Can I touch you, Y/N? I really want to make you feel appreciated and good. Will you let me do that?”

Not able to find your voice you whimper out something that’s close to being a yes, but it’s not enough for him and while you are losing touch with what’s really going on, Harry is very much enjoying seeing you like this, all for himself.

“Use your words, Love. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes!” you choke out and luckily, he doesn’t waste any more time.

You feel his lips connect with your neck as both his hands work on the waistband of your sweats, pushing them further down a little before his right hand taps on the top of your lacy underwear, the one you wore under your suit tonight, the one Harry definitely thought about when he first saw you through his screen.

You gasp when his hand slides into your underwear, fingers finding your sensitive bud of nerves, pressing down on them softly. You desperately turn your face, eager to meet his lips, but he pulls back for your dismay.

“Not now, Love,” he tells you and though the words sting a little, you don’t have much time to dwell on them when you feel his fingers slide back and forth between your soaking wet folds. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirks while you’re trying to breath evenly, though it’s quite the challenge.

His lips return to your neck and your hands fly up to grab onto the back of his neck and shoulders, his fingers teasing you around your hole, not entering just yet. You start buckling your hips, desperate to get him take the next step and he is surely enjoying the show you are putting on for him.

“Ready to feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hair roughly and a loud moan escapes your lips when he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, this feels so nice,” he groans, lips nipping on the soft skin under your ear. He is quick to take up on a pace, moving his digits in and out, his thumb circling on your clit, adding that extra magic most men always forget about. But not Harry, he is eager to please you the best he can and if you weren’t sitting, you’d be on your knees for him by now.

“Yeah, tug on my hair, Darling,” he growls, his voice sending chills down your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair just as he asked, while you feel your climax building up.

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside you every time he thrusts them in, making you almost see stars. Your legs fly around his waist, ankles crossing above his bum as you bring him closer, and a whimpered groan bursts out of him, probably because his erection just got squeezed against his hand by your action, his nonstop moving hand now stuck between your heated core and his throbbing member. When his head pulls back you quickly look at him, about to ask if he is alright, but he just presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as his unsaid answer that he is perfectly fine.

His forehead comes to rest against yours as he adds a third finger, making you moan his name in ecstasy. Your mind is starting to completely shut down, the sensation of utter pleasure taking over your whole body as you can feel your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

“C’mon, Love. Let it go for me,” he mumbles, his free hand sliding to your back so he keeps you flushed against him, your heaving chest touching his upper body with each drawn breath.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, eyes screwed shut, tipping over the edge of your climax. “Please don’t stop!” you beg whining.

“Never, Darling.”

And he keeps his words. He keeps going and going until your walls close up around his slick fingers and your thighs tremble around his waist. You tug on his hair once again, pulling his head back just enough so your eyes meet right when you come undone. His fingers keep moving a little longer, bringing you down from your high before the last wave of your orgasm dies down and you are brought back to reality.

When his fingers slide out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you breathe out in dismay and it brings a smile to his lips as he licks his fingers clean and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watch him taste your pleasure on his own fingers.

Glancing down you see the very visible bulge in his pants and you reach down to return the favor you just had the pleasure to get, but his hands wrap around your wrists stopping you, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Not now, Love. This was all about you. I’ll be fine.”

“But—“ “No,” he cuts you off shaking his head gently. “Seeing you like this was more than enough for me.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you feel yourself blushing at his words, the whole situation that just went down dawning on you just now. Harry really did just finger you on one of your kitchen stools and it was one hell of an experience for sure.

When your gaze wanders over to his lips you remember how he refused to kiss you and now you actually have the chance to pay more attention to this tiny detail.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you ask him, legs falling from his waist as he goes to sit back on his stool. He glances at you, a soft smile on the lips that never touched yours.

“I wasn’t planning to do this, but I just couldn’t stop myself. However, I’m still trying to be a gentleman, so I won’t kiss you until I’ve taken you out on a proper date.”

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle shaking your head at the absurdity of what he just said. “So you are fine fingering me shamelessly, but you won’t kiss me without a date?” you ask, rephrasing his words.

“That’s right,” he nods, his smile growing into a smirk now. Shaking your head you turn back to your probably cold plate of food, chuckling to yourself.

“Harry Styles, you are… something else.”

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!reader

[imtheasssniffer]

(Heads up: this story contains major scat, physical abuse, rape, and kidnapping fantasies. Read at your own risk. Sorry if this isn’t your type of story. It’s not even really my type of story. I just felt like diversifying my page for you sickos. Plus I was in a mood.)

Big Boy

You watched in fear as he flexed his bicep. You saw his muscle flex. Growing to an intimidating size. Same for the muscle bulging in his underwear. Slowly getting larger as he watched the fear in your eyes get stronger. He chuckled, knowing that you were completely terrified of what he’d do to you. He owned you. Ever since he picked you off the street. He’s been torturing you in violent and disgusting ways. Forcing you to endure every single aspect of his body. Not only the force it could exert, the smells it could produce, but also the waste he could excrete.

Everyday, ever since he stole you from the world, and completely robbed you of your humanity. He found even more ways to torture you. More creative and dehumanizing ways to put you down. He got off on making you feel like nothing. That’s why when you flinched at his flexed arm, his dick started to get harder.

“Kiss it,” he said slapping his bicep.

“Come on. I don’t want to wait,” he continued. You moved towards his arm, and planted your lips onto his muscles. Kissing him softly, afraid to be too harsh, or too lenient. He planted his meaty hand on the back of your head, and patted your scalp. Your fear somewhat subsided, until you felt him clench your hair, and pull you back. You landed on the floor completely shocked. The terror filled your eyes again, and he just got even more hyped.

He pounced on top of you. Using his left hand to crush the back of your skull against the floor, and his right to punch you in the face. It felt like your head was going to cave in from the pressure his body weight exerted on top of you. Not to mention the fact that his punch felt like it completely unhinged your jaw. You felt your cheek get warm, and start to swell up, but even before you could react he spit onto your face, and then slapped you hard. You gasped from the brutishness, and by the time you finished inhaling he had backed up, and let go of your skull. Before cupping both of his hands together, and forcefully punching your gut, like he was spiking a volleyball at the olympics. You wheezed as all of the air left your body. You heard him chuckle in ecstasy above you, and the slight anger you felt was quickly replaced by nausea, as the weight of the blow made you weakly throw up on the floor beside you.

“You miserable bitch. Now you’re making a mess on my floor?” He stated in a harsh, but somewhat joking matter. Before you could even react to him. He grabbed your throat and squeezed. You clawed at his hands, and tried to unhinge his meaty fingers from around your neck, but his grasp wasn’t letting go. After over a minute of laying there losing consciousness, he let go. Watching you gasp for air. He was so powerful. He even controlled the air that you breathed. He knew this. That’s why he pulled out his dick, and started slowly jerking.

“Yknow I gotta take a piss, and since you already messed up my floor. I might as well add my own mess to it,” he said menacingly. You already knew what this meant. It wasn’t the first time he peed on you. Hell it wouldn’t even be the first he made you drink it, but you were still completely disgusted.

He stood up above you. Forcing you to see how big he was, as he towered over your feeble, weak, wheezing body on the floor. You watched as he stroked his cock a couple more times, before pointing it down at you, and letting go. He wasn’t lying. He really did have to take a piss. It was warm and fragrant, and it lasted a long time. Clearly he was enjoying it. He rained down on your face at first. Getting some in your mouth, then he moved down to your chest. Going in little loopty-loops, and moaning at the release. He pointed down to where he punched your stomach. Further highlighting the warmth of the bruising he had caused.

“Damn, looks like I’m dehydrated.” He was enjoying making a show, of releasing every single last drop onto you. Spurting out just a little more. Over and over agin, until his dick ran completely dry. The room smelt like urine. It was devastating.

“I want you to clean this shit up,” he menacingly demanded. You started to painfully get up, but he squatted over you and planted a hand on your chest. He shoved you roughly onto the floor.

“Not yet!”

You watched as he peeled his underwear fully off, and then turned around. Hovering his ass over your face.

“Open wide!” You grimaced at the thought of what was about to happen. You begged,

“Please, no.” You heard a sinister chuckle, and then he demanded again,

“Open your damn mouth, or I’ll beat your jaw open!” Knowing that he had every intention of keeping his word. You complied. Opening your mouth widely. He looked back at you, and grumbled,

“Good.” He fell onto your face. Crushing your skull onto the hardwood floor once again. His asshole sat over your mouth, pulsing, pushing. You groaned into his ass, and he chuckled again. He did it. He made you a lower life form. You were his toilet now, and you had no say in the matter.

PPprRRTtTttT

A wet fart boomed into your mouth and echoed down your cheeks. It lasted 3 seconds and reeked. You heard him laugh, as his farts filled your mouth. He hovered over you again. Leaving a few inches between your face and his hole.

BblLaaRRtT

His fart was more wet this time. It was getting sloppier.

“Here she comes bitch. She’s a big one.” You didn’t want to look, but when you heard the squelching of his ass hole. You became compelled to see what was leaving his insides. Instant regret washed over you, as you saw a large brown log leave his ass. He let out a determined grunt, and then it started to rush out. It eventually touched your tongue, which caused you to instantly gag at its rancid taste. Before long. The huge, long turd plopped into your mouth. With a sick wet sloppy noise. It filled your mouth to the brim.

“Eat it up cunt. I got more for you.” You watched again as his hole opened, and another large, beefy, brown log began to push its way out. You couldn’t seriously eat that. Could you? His shit smelled like beef jerky and manure. Pretty much what you’d expect a truck stop bathroom to smell like. It was rancid, but the smell couldn’t prepare you for the taste. The intensity of the flavor, when it first touched your tongue was vile. Truly the worst thing he’d ever forced you to endure. You only grew more disgusted, as you were forced to chew, and swallow the disgusting shit. Begrudgingly sinking your teeth into the solid muddy slime. You swallowed in chunks, not wanting to chew all the way. You weren’t even able to finish swallowing the first by the time the second plopped into your mouth. You felt like you were drowning.

“Ahh. Fuck. Looks like there’s no toilet paper. Do you mind?” he asked just before scratching his hole on the bridge of your nose.

“Well shit, it looks like the toilet’s clogged.” He smiled over you. Further belittling you. He turned around and looked down at you again.

“Here let me help,” he said, as he stroked his clock and rammed it into your shit filled mouth.

“Aww. I didn’t expect that to feel so good.”

You felt sick. You could vomit again at any moment. What made matters worse, was that he was shoving shit down your throat. Using his dick as a ram for his feces to go deeper down your throat, choking you. He just kept forcing his dick into your mouth, deeper and deeper. You hated to think it, but it was actually helping you to swallow his shit.

“Ohh, damn.” He moaned above you,

“I’m one nasty fuck,” he giggled. As you finished ingesting his shit. His dick thrusted deeper into your throat. He wasn’t letting you catch your breath. You laid helpless on the floor, as he roughly fucked your throat. When he finally reached his climax, he pulled his dick from inside of you and erupted onto your face.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed as he shot ropes of cum onto you. He panted softly over you, and then looked down into your eyes.

“Go clean yourself up, and then clean this damn room.” He slapped your face and continued,

“You did a good job.” You slowly got up and went to the bathroom. You immediately started to wash your mouth, and face, when you heard him say,

“Next time we’re doing it human centipede style. Less mess.” You began to silently weep, as you accepted that this was now your life.

[buckyownsmylife]

Staying on my mind - Jake Gyllenhaal smut

The one where Jake fucks you while Tom listens.

Warnings: smut, cuckolding, mean!Jake, crying during sex, orgasm denial

A/N: so this was the request follow-up to these fics! I must say, I got really 🔥 writing it, so I hope y’all will feel the same when reading!

Jake’s P.O.V.

I was surprised when I got the invite to hang out at Tom’s house during the Superbowl. I hadn’t heard from him since the night he had sent his girlfriend over, and although whenever we met at parties they were always polite and warm, I knew there was some underlying awkwardness there.

I’d find it weird if there wasn’t. This is why the idea of reuniting at his place was so great: it’d give us the opportunity to smooth things over, go back to pretending nothing had ever happened.

Or make this into an official thing, one could hope.

I couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t what I wanted. Just thinking about that night had me hardening inside my jeans, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and end up disappointed. So when I finally got there and found out no one other than me had been invited, I still didn’t allow my thoughts to run wild, instead opting to accept Tom’s hug and depositing a quick kiss on Y/N’s cheek as a greeting.

“It’ll be just the three of us today, huh? The dream threesome,” I winked in their direction, witnessing as she flushed and Tom avoided my eyes. Just because I wasn’t going to create any hopes didn’t mean I couldn’t have my fun with them.

But the nervous energy that had been absent with other people around was now threatening to take over our encounter. I watched as Tom still seemed unable to look me in the eye and Y/N couldn’t sit still, and so I decided to put an end to it.

“Y/N.” Her head immediately whipped up to look at me, and I couldn’t help but to feel smug about it. She felt it too, this instinctive calling, this bond between us that seemed to have been delicately built during that night we shared together. “Come sit on my lap.”

Now it was Tom’s head that whipped to the side to meet my eye for the first time that night, and all he found was a challenging look on my face, as I waited with an eyebrow raised for what he was going to do. Y/N didn’t move, every muscle of her body apparently tense as she looked from her boyfriend to me and back to him again.

No one dared to break the spell. I knew how I wanted this to play out, but the ball wasn’t in my hands, and I was hoping she would realize it soon.

Much to my delight, she did.

Y/N was the one to make the decision for us, standing up and closing the space between our bodies before coming to stand in front of me. I didn’t leave room for another second of hesitation, immediately reaching out to sit her on my lap.

It helped that I was desperate to feel her body again.

“What are you looking at?” I barked, taking too much delight in the way Tom’s mouth suddenly closed, his wide eyes staring at us. “Go get us a beer.” He still seemed reluctant, but I could recognize the glint of desire in his eyes. It’s what made me insist, “Go,” which ultimately had him sprinting out of the room, in the direction of the kitchen.

Much better. That would give me the time I needed to talk to the beauty in my arms, who was staring intently at my lips, her arms around my neck. Well, now that was just a given.

“You okay with this?” I had to know. Couldn’t have her blaming it on the heat of the moment, I wanted her to acknowledge that this was her decision.

“Yeah,” she nodded, licking her lips before finally meeting my eyes. “Yeah, I think Tom will really enjoy this. Even if he doesn’t have the nerve to explicitly say it.” I chuckled, playing with her hair while analyzing her expression. It didn’t surprise me that she opted to focus on Tom’s desire rather than on hers, but by the end of the night, I’d make sure the next time we saw each other, she would be the one begging for me.

I started by capturing her lips with mine, desperate to taste her again, growing hard just by imagining Tom’s expression when he returned with the beers to find our mouths moving together. At the same time, I had to simply relish in the feeling of having her this close again.

I was right. It was impossible to be around her and not think about bending her over the coffee table and just jam my cock in her tight little pussy. But for now I was almost satisfied in making her breathless with these long kisses, where I could invade her mouth with my tongue before taking control of hers.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Missed me, beautiful?” He asked with an unmistakable arrogant smirk when I had to pull away to catch my breath. Out of words, all I could do was blink dumbly at his dominant aura, feeling my underwear begin to soak already, with the little we’d done.

Thankfully, he was so sure of himself he didn’t need an answer. Instead, his huge hand engulfed my nape, bringing my lips down to his again, adjusting me so I was perfectly seated on his lap, knees on each side of his frame, covered cunt rubbing against his. 

I tried not to focus on how it made me feel, the fact that he could so easily adjust me to his liking, but the way my pussy clenched as I kept slowly grinding against his boner was enough to distract me from that goal.

His kiss was passionate, and there was so much hunger in it that it almost scared me. But I couldn’t be too worried about it, not when his hands were roaming around my body, like he was trying to get reacquainted to it.

One of them settled on my ass, covering an entire cheek when he squeezed it tightly, making me whimper as it pressed my clit against the zipper of his jeans. And that’s when I heard it - the sound of glass breaking, liquid splashing, and I wanted to turn around to check on Tom but Jake’s other hand held me by the back of the head and attacked my lips once more.

Suddenly, I didn’t care. A lazy, warm haze of lust settled over me, slowly taking over my body, relaxing my muscles to mold them against Jake’s. Tom could stop this if he was uncomfortable, I reasoned with myself. He could voice his concerns, even pull me away. If he didn’t, he must be okay with this.

Jake’s lips grew more impatient, more demanding as they left mine bruised in search of clear skin he could leave his mark on. When he descended upon my jaw, trailing the side of my neck, I was finally able to see Tom, just out of the corner of my eye.

He looked tense, or maybe it was surprised. Whatever it was that he was feeling, it had left him paralyzed in the middle of our living room, eyes wide as he took in the image of his girlfriend being licked and sucked and kissed by his best friend.

I wondered if he had ever imagined this before. Ever fantasized about watching Jake fuck me right in front of him, like I told him about it the night I went over to his friend’s place. I had no doubt that the idea excited him, but I was reticent about how he would actually react now that it was happening right in front of his eyes.

It was one thing to fantasize. I’d even done it before, about the man who was now undoing the buttons of my dress, exposing my breasts to the cold air of the evening. Actually experiencing it was another thing altogether - and that I’d come to realize the first time I allowed Jake to touch me.

A warm mouth engulfed my nipple, making me gasp in surprise at the same time I felt his member twitch underneath me. My attention returned to the man who was dedicating all of his to me and my body, laving my breasts with his warm tongue and making me more aroused by the second.

“Alright, enough of this.” I yelped, legs instinctively wrappingaround Jake’s torso when he got up from the couch like I weighted nothing, hands under my ass to help support me.

I looked over my shoulder to see Tom was also surprised, his handcurled around his cock but unmoving as he followed us with his gaze until he moved towards us, almost tripping on his own pants trying to reach us.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jake’s question startled me, mostly because I wasn’t expecting him to say anything. I could see a mocking smile on his handsome face as he stared at my boyfriend, making me pant as I realized what was going on.

“I-I’m going to the bedroom with you guys.” I don’t think Jake tried very hard to hold back his laughter, not by the way my entire body shook with his roar. But then he stopped abruptly, almost as if he suddenly realized Tom wasn’t kidding. Then, where once was amusement, now stood intimidation. Jake looked down at Tom with what seemed like twice his usual height, a derisive smile on his face.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, mate.” I gasped in surprise as he slapped my ass, throwing a wink at my boyfriend before resuming his march, starting to climb up the stairs.

“You stay there, be a good little boy. Maybe touch yourself a little, let the grown-ups have some fun.” I was dumbfounded, incapable of saying anything as Jake’s gaze at last landed on me again, easily locating the door of the bedroom I shared with the man downstairs.

The fact that he left it open didn’t escape my attention.

My dress was gone in the blink of an eye, and so were his clothes. “God, get up here,” he ordered, laying down on the bed by my side before easily manhandling me so that my knees were on either side of his head. “I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

I choked on a moan as his tongue plunged inside of me, clearly desperate to taste my overwhelming wetness. Before me, I could see his thick cock twitch against his stomach, and my mouth instantly watered.

“Oh God,” he bellowed underneath me, the reverberations of his deep voice rushing through me. “What a fucking pussy.” My legs trembled, making me fall down on my hands and knees over him, but I didn’t mind. It got me closer to where I wanted to be.

“Fuck!” His voice boomed when my lips wrapped around the head of his cock, my hips instinctively grinding back against him face. “You’re so wet already, beautiful.”

It was undeniable. My juices were running down my thighs, dripping over his face and the bed that I shared with my boyfriend. “Does he really pays you so little attention?” Jake pressed on, tone mocking - and I knew Tom could hear him from downstairs.

Still, I couldn’t hold back. Even when I stopped moving my hips, my mouth kept working him, obsessed with the weight of his cock on my tongue, his taste, his precum. And he didn’t let me stay frozen for long, strong hands taking a hold of my ass to gently rock me back against his face once more.

He hummed against my hole, taking advantage of my distraction with his cock to keep taunting, “Just a few kisses…” and he licked my clit, laughing at my moan. “And you’re already gushing for me, huh?”

I knew he didn’t need an answer. This was much more for Tom’s benefit than anything else, but it did help that it made me wetter than I’d ever been before, thinking of my boyfriend sitting downstairs with his hand down his pants, jacking off to the sounds of me with another man.

“That’s why he needs this,” Jake continued between suctions on my clit. “You need this. He needs to see how you behave when you’re with someone who can actually satisfy you, huh?”

God, the degradation was exhilarating, even if I didn’t understand why. “Huh, sweetheart?” He asked, letting go of his long, wet kisses against my pussy to push two fingers inside of me. “Don’t I satisfy you?”

There was only so much a woman could take.

“Yes, yes,” I screamed, finally coming up for air and releasing his cock as I fucked myself back furiously against his digits. “Please, fuck me, please.”

If I had half a brain cell that wasn’t overtaken by my arousal, I’d call myself pathetic, and Jake’s laugh certainly showed that he’d agree with me. But I was too worried with climbing that high of desire to care - that was, until his fingers left me, his hand coming down against the flesh of my ass, leaving it stinging.

“Don’t fucking cum without my cock inside of you.”

I was laid back against the bed in a second, his cock suddenly filling me as he shoved it in my drenched hole all at once, knowing I could take it - and I could, but even with my overwhelming wetness, it hurt. It was a good kind of hurt though, a fantastic kind of stretch that had me screaming, clawing at Jake’s back as he immediately began to pound me against the mattress.

“Yeah, you like this cock, angel, don’t you?” I could only babble something that resembled a yes, making Jake smile as sweat started to form on his forehead.

“He has no idea how much of a whore you really are, huh?” Every reminder of my boyfriend sent a new wave of arousal down my lower belly, tightening the knot on my navel, threatening to make me tip over the edge of bliss.

“Thinks you’re just an innocent little thing…” he continued, head tilted and biceps bulging as he held himself up above me, taking in my every reaction. “But here you are, getting rawed by another man while he’s getting off downstairs to the sound of us fucking.”

All at once, his thrusts began to slow, deflating that warm fire of desire once more and I whined, tears threatening to spill when his hand covered my throat, squeezing it lightly, shushing me. “Listen,” he ordered, and I did, because I’d do anything for this man if he would just make me cum.”

“Can you hear it?” Curiosity got the best of me, and so I focused, eventually managing to grasp the sound of skin meeting skin, denouncing how furiously Tom was jacking himself off while Jake fucked me like an animal. 

But at that moment, I couldn’t think about Tom anymore. I couldn’t think about anything other than Jake and his cock, roughly fucking me in the same bed where I slept with Tom every night.

Jake’s mouth began its exploration around my neck, retracing the same path he had made that night as he sucked bruise after bruise on my skin, leaving a trail for Tom to uncover later. I could still remember how long it took for them to fade, and how I’d sit in front of the mirror and press them in the hopes of making them last longer, reigniting the flames of desire I’d felt that night.

I never expected to be able to relive it.

“Can you hear us too, Tom?” Jake suddenly yelled, laughing at my body as it jolted underneath his. “Can you hear me as I destroy your fucking girlfriend in a way you never could?”

Tom’s low moan still managed to reach my ear, and I mirrored it instinctively, bewitched by the fact that he was aroused from me being aroused.

I could feel myself clench, my orgasm starting to ignite again, but just as I thought that Jake would finally let me cum, his voice resonated through the room, interrupting my plans, “Hold it.”

I started crying. I just couldn’t take it anymore. But he thought that I did, and so he threatened, “or do you want me to stop?”

I would have thought it was just empty words if he hadn’t actually halted his movements, prompting me into begging between tears, holding the hand that still covered my throat, “No, please! Don’t stop, please.”

Jake’s P.O.V.

I chuckled as I imagined what Tom must be feeling as he heard his girlfriend begging for me. With a groan, I managed to pull out of her and easily take her body with me as I sat by the edge of the bed, in front of a body-length mirror that I supposed she used to get ready in the morning.

“Look at you,” I ordered, already holding her jaw so she’d have no choice but to obey. “He can only imagine ever getting you like this, huh? Dripping wet, crying for cock… God, you’re delicious.”

I rutted up against her, desperate to feel her wet heat all around my aching dick, but I took sick delight in torturing her a bit more. “Isn’t it worth it?” I inquired, making sure she was looking me in the eyes through the mirror, dragging my cock over her pussy lips just to taunt her. “To abandon your boyfriend downstairs so you can have my dick inside of you?”

She remained silent, tears silently running down her cheeks as she refused to answer, but even though the answer was already obvious, I needed to hear her say it.

“Say it,” I enunciated, mocking her state of ruin. “Say you want my dick inside of you.” Her bottom lips trembled, it looked like she was about to start sobbing, but she still conceded it to me.

“I want it, please, please Jake.” Hearing my name in her fucked-out voice broke all of my control, and I buried myself inside of her all at once, knowing from this position I’d feel even bigger inside of her.

“You wanna cum so bad?” I asked, watching her immediately nod. “Then make yourself cum, c’mon. Work for it.” I slapped the outside of her thigh, a hand still over her throat as I watched her begin to fuck herself on my dick through the mirror in front of us. It was unbelievable.

When our eyes met again, I felt a rush of something I couldn’t identify inside of me, looking into her gaze filled with so many emotions, I turned my own turmoil into something I could actually use.

“Do you think he’ll still want you when I’m done with you?” I asked, nibbling on her ear as I watched and heard her gasp at my words, filling my other hand with her bouncing breasts.

“When you’re all stretched out and covered in my cum, do you think he’ll still want to be with you?” She began sobbing then, but I could only take delight in her show of emotions, knowing I’d hit the nerve I needed to get her to come apart for me.

“Kiss me, kiss me,” I urged, turning her face to the side when her cunt clenched around me, starting to milk my cock. I bet I could still hold it a bit longer, even though her warm lips on mine were almost sending me into overdrive.

“God, I missed this fucking mouth,” I admitted once we parted for air, letting go of her throat to push my fingers inside of it, and when her tongue welcomed my digits, swirling around them, I came with a roar.

The world seemed to be underwater after I came with such intensity. Still, I managed to softly deposit her on bed, smiling at her fucked out face, not resisting leaning down and passionately kissing her lips once more, giving her all I got.

Her eyes remained close when I pulled away, and I knew she was almost asleep when I ran my thumbs over her cheekbones, admiring her angelic features.

“You know…” I whispered, uncertain if she could even still hear me. “…if he doesn’t want you anymore, you can always come home with me.”

#my fics #jake gyllenhaal smut #smut #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal reader #jake gyllenhaal reader inserts #jake gyllenhaal reader insert #jake gyllenhaal fic #jake gyllenhaal fics #jake gyllenhaal imagine

[jonsa101]

Episode 3x14: A Reflection of How Max Stepped Into Love After A Season of Suffering

Gif credit @supagirl

Hey guys! I can’t believe the season finale has come and gone! I think my mind is just taking time to comprehend everything that has happened! Sharpwin is officially canon! As I’m typing this out, it feels strange writing a meta on the other side of things. Since season one, I’ve been writing metas about how these two belong together and making predictions about the trajectory of their relationship. Now, to be on the other side of things where I know longer have to do that because these two are finally together is kinda crazy. I feel so elated!

Now y’all, I’m not going to lie to you, I had a totally different meta planned out and that meta is still in my drafts. I will probably release it because it was a general review of the episode but I thought it was more important that I put this meta out first. When I was watching the finale live, I didn’t love it. I just didn’t. I loved that Max and Helen finally got together at the end of the episode but I had a major issue with how it unfolded. The issue my friends was this scene right here: 

Baby!!! When I tell you this scene TRIGGERED me, it did! Now mind you, I wasn’t upset with Max’s storyline of searching and struggling to take off his wedding ring. It is human nature for Max to still have an emotional attachment to his ring. He’s not still grieving but essentially that ring is the only thing he has left of Georgia and represents a life he once had. Him taking it off was always going to be a monumental moment for Sharpwin and for himself. The issue that I had was Max casually telling Helen that he freaked out about losing his ring!!! To me, after the voicemail he left her, after Helen flew standby and was in a six hour flight to see him, it was an incredibly CALLOUS thing for Max to say. I know Max wasn’t thinking in this moment. I know his intentions were clearly not to hurt her but words matter and him being careless with his was a complete disregard of Helen’s feelings. She was deeply hurt and upset when he said this and rightfully so! I mean just look at her expression here:

Helen’s entire being read like

“I can’t believe you”

And girl same, because neither could I!! He knew he fucked up and he obviously made up for it in the end but y’all when I was watching it live, everything that came after that elevator scene was was tainted for me. I had a hard time believing that Helen would let what he said slide so easily and in the moment, I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them finally coming together! 😩 In my personal opinion, there were so many other ways that scene could have played out without Max having to literally tell Helen to her face that he was worried about his wedding ring! I know they were trying to build up to the “big moment” where he finally takes his ring off and runs back to Helen’s apartment but man, that moment did not sit right with me in my spirit! It still doesn’t and I don’t think my opinion will ever change on this.

With that said, I’ve now done several rewatches of the finale where I specifically watched the scenes after that awful moment by the elevator. As I’ve had time to reflect, my perspective has changed. I no longer view the moments after the elevator scene as tainted but as something deeply profound and beautiful. Hell, even as I reflect on that scene by the elevator, I still don’t like it, but in a way I understand it in how it relates to Max’s overall journey when it comes to Helen. To me, Max Goodwin is a man who fell deeply in love with Helen in the midst of the most complex situations and a season of him suffering. It’s been deep rooted, complicated and messy from the start and over the past three years we’ve seen Max navigate through the complexities of his feelings for Helen and the circumstances he’s found himself in on our screens. I think when you look at season three finale and specifically the journey of Max finally making a choice to be with Helen, you have to put into context Max’s history and how it influenced what that looked like. So y’all that is exactly what I want to do in this meta so let’s dive in.

One thing I think we need to acknowledge is that, even though as an audience we have loved seeing Max and Helen’s journey unfold, the road has been so TOUGH for them. As Helen said in 3x13, it’s been a fight! Especially for Max. The suffering he has endured over the past three years has been unfathomable and much of his relationship with Helen and his feelings for her have been developed under these traumatic and tragic circumstances. 

At the very beginning of the series, when Max and Helen first meet they clash but it doesn’t last for long. It’s his first day at New Amsterdam and as the new Medical Director, he wants her to stay at the hospital and treat patients instead of doing press tours. Helen on the other hand wants to continue doing press and for the most part ignores his demands for her to return to the hospital. When she finally does return, she does so because she learns that Max has cancer. This bonds them at the onset as Helen is the only person in his life that knows about his diagnosis. As an audience, when we first see them interact, we instantly saw the sparks fly between them. Their chemistry and natural witty banter made us immediately take a look at their relationship and what potential they could have in the future. Though we were shocked by his cancer diagnosis, I think the fun and lightheartedness of Sharpwin’s first interactions really masked how traumatic this must have been for Max. On the first day of his dream job, that he sacrificed his marriage for, he learns that he has cancer while having a baby on the way. Those are the awful circumstances that first bring Max and Helen together. 

As Helen becomes Max’s doctor and he swears her to secrecy about his diagnosis, their friendship and bond grows deeper. His passion and drive to help his patients, reignites Sharpe’s love for medicine again and inspires her to put her patients first. They become vulnerable with each other more than anyone else in their lives. He confides in her about his broken marriage and she tells him that she wants a baby. When he almost dies, she becomes his deputy medical director so that he can focus on his care. All of these moments are significant to them because somewhere along the way they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t plan for it and it’s something neither of them are consciously aware of but unknowingly, they both start to fill a place in each other’s lives that was clearly more than a doctor and patient relationship or a friendship. This “place” wasn’t called out until episode 1x16 were the clairvoyant called out their feelings for each other. When episode 1x17 comes around, after a night of revelations and a scramble to get the power back on in the hospital, Helen decides to step back as his doctor. If she wasn’t aware of her feelings before, in this moment, she’s fully aware of them now. This is an effort to safeguard her heart and set boundaries because the lines of who they are to each other were already so blurred. When she “triages” their relationship Max’s reacts badly and honestly they’re both devastated and are on the verge of tears:

As viewers, we loved this moment but when you peel back the layers of what’s actually going on in this scene, it’s gut-wrenching. The subtext is so clear here yet their situation is so complex and layered. We know for a fact that Max wasn’t trying to lose her in ANY CAPACITY. We also know that in the way he TRULY wanted her he couldn’t have her and Helen knew that too. Not when he was married, had a baby on the way, and fighting cancer at the same time. Y’all that’s hard and profoundly painful when you think about it and it makes this scene all the more tragic. 

When Helen steps back as his doctor, at first Max seems to be handling it well but as his cancer starts to get worse, he completely breaks. Like I said earlier, over the course of his cancer treatment, Helen filled a place in Max’s life that was so much more than just his doctor or his friend. So when he’s dying and no longer has the person he feels deeply for play an active role in his treatment, he lashes out. He’s dealing with a range of emotions he can’t handle or properly process. Things only get worse from there and at the end of season one Georgia and Luna’s life are on the line and Bloom and Helen scramble to save them. When it seems like everyone was able to come out of that traumatic event unscathed, they get into a devastating ambulance crash that changes everything. 

Season 2 brings another level of pain and suffering for Max when he loses his wife after the crash and is thrust into single fatherhood. Not only is he grieving but he’s also dealing with guilt of falling in love with Helen while he was married. The complexities of his feelings is something he struggles with throughout this season and it affects his relationship with Helen. At some points he pushes her away and at others he desperately needs her. Once again, Helen and Max’s relationship is caught up in the most complex of circumstances that is riddled with agony and trauma. 

By time we head into season 3, Max doesn’t even have time to breathe or think about his relationship with Helen because they’re both thrust to the frontlines of the pandemic. 

I bring all of this up again to emphasize that there has never been a time where Max and Helen’s relationship hasn’t been wrapped up in trauma or some sort of suffering. It has always been one thing or another with them. It’s been A LOT and Max has tried to navigate being in love with Helen through his suffering and under these crazy ass circumstances. So after rewatching the finale, the questions that run through my mind are:

How do you step into love when all you’ve known for the past three years has been suffering?

How do you love openly and freely when for so long you’ve emotionally suppressed your feelings for someone because it was “wrong?” 

How do you let go, heal, and move on with your life?

To me, answering these questions is what the season finale for Max was all about. When you’ve suffered so much and endured so much it’s not easy to step into a new chapter in your life that’s hopeful and filled with love and possibilities. For Max, I don’t think in his wildest dreams that he ever imagined that he and Helen would be in a place where they could actually be together. Considering everything they’ve gone through, quite frankly it’s a fucking miracle! So when he actually makes it to the other side and not only SURVIVES but has a chance for happiness, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. Pursuing/having feelings for Helen from a place that isn’t wrapped up in trauma and tragedy, where there are seemingly no obstacles in his way, is totally and completely new territory for Max. I think he’s clueless in how to do that in the right way and as he navigates through that, naturally there are hiccups.

That’s evident with what he said by the elevator and also in this moment here: 

Max doesn’t have a clue but he wants to make sure that he doesn’t fuck it up because he DESPERATELY wants this! I also think there’s something to be said about how we as human beings can self-sabotage ourselves when we finally have an opportunity to get what we want. Fear, guilt, worthiness usually comes into play with that and I think for Max there was definitely a fear with moving on with his life, guilt of surviving it all and having a chance to be with the woman he’s loved for so long, and a question of if he’s worthy of actually having happiness.

Their walk in my mind perfectly embodies him self sabotaging while also trying to navigate his feelings of desperately wanting to be with her. At the beginning of their walk, you see that at one point he clearly wants to hold Helen’s hand but he doesn’t (I would use a gif here y’all but I literally only have room for 10 😩). I’m focusing my attention on Max here because essentially this whole moment between them is a part of Max’s “mini story” in the episode. The ball has always been in his court and truly what we are witnessing is his journey to step into love because Helen is ready and has been waiting on him. 

The most compelling moment in their walk scene for me was this one: 

I find it strange for Max to walk so far ahead when he was the one who asked her if he could walk with her. My first thought while watching it live was “what is he doing” and I think Helen’s expression reads the same way. After analyzing this for a bit, I genuinely think that’s the point of this scene. Like I said earlier, Max doesn’t know what he’s doing. To be with Helen like this is, where its romantic, peaceful and drama free is probably blowing his mind and he doesn't know how to navigate this. He doesn’t know how to receive this second chance at happiness. 

The internal war of Max stepping into love or allowing fear, guilt, and unworthiness to hold him back becomes all the more evident when they get to Helen’s door: 

He knows he wants to come in. Helen know he wants to come in too. This man literally says goodnight twice and when Helen responds with “you said that,” it perfects this scene. She wants him to come in as well but she’s not going to ask him to. In this moment, she sees his internal struggle and she knows that he has to make the choice himself on whether or not he wants to move on with his life with her.

When he walks away, for a moment that was Max choosing to hold onto the pain and trauma of his past. That was him choosing to hold onto the guilt that was keeping him from healing and moving on. With the suffering he’s been through, it makes sense. In many ways he’s been conditioned to fight, to suffer and to endure. It’s what he’s used to. But praise the lord, he thinks of the moments he just shared with Helen. 

The joy he has with just being in her presence. 

The opportunity he has to freely be with her and have a life with her after loving her for so long.

He is not condemned to a life of suffering. It was only for a season. He’s in love with Helen and wants to be with her. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity at a second chance of love and happiness slip away from him. So guys, he slips off that ring, runs back to Helen’s apartment and makes a choice to step into love. Step into this new, uncharted, chapter of his life with Helen Sharpe. 

Anyway guys! I hope y’all enjoyed this! I might be releasing one more meta but we will see how it goes.

As always feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr and on Twitter @oyindaodewale. Love you guys!

#new amsterdam #Sharpwin #Max Goodwin #Helen Sharpe #Max x Helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

[moon-nymphet]

Hcs or scenario (whatever you like!) *warning extreme angst* oikawa, kuroo and osamu with a crush. They mutually like each other but never made a move to progress anything. One day another girl comes along and the boys move onto them instead. Crush is upset but accepts it and backs off. A bit later the boys realise the new girl they’re with was just something fresh and new and they don’t actually like them. They want to go back to oh crush but they already have no feelings for them anymore 😢😢

i swear i cried real tears while writing this, i love destroying my own mental health (∪ ◡ ∪) and ahhh this took me so long to write bc i’m so freaking insecure about the quality of my writing, i’m sorry this is so bad but there u gooo ♡

♡  we could have been something ;; haikyuu

warnings: angst, rough language

kuroo

you know this type of friendship where the limits are so difuse that the rest of people beggins noticing you had a thing for each other ? that’s what kuroo and you have had for the longest time

kuroo and you spent most of your time hanging out together, you went to see him training and he always called you his girlfriend in front of his teammates just because he loved to see you all flustered, you worried so much about each other almost like a couple, and you were even starting to get along with kenma, so you knew for a fact that you were into each other, or at least that’s what you thought ?? 

as you two were pretty childish you used to bicker all the time, nothing serious most of the times because none of you could get away more than a day without talking to each other, and when you had this little arguments it was about silly things that didn’t matter

that continued being like that until this day kuroo started reproaching you that he was so tired of trying without a result — “you seem to fucking ignore the obvious signals i’m sending you y/n, are you playing the dumb role ??? i can’t continue like this anymore, i’m sorry but i met this girl and she showed me clearly that she wants to be with me as more than a friend”  — and leaving you completely broken, he suddenly walked away from your life without a previous warning 

at first you felt so guilty, it was true, you were a bit shy and insecure, but you thought he liked you just the way you were ? but then you understood well how things were in reality, your silly ass thought you two had something meaningful 

sure it hurted to see him walking hand in hand with the stereotypical mean girl from highschool movies, but you know the worst part of this ?? it wasn’t her fault, it was his and only his. and that’s what broke you the most

things continued being the same for a while, and to be honest, it was a bit hard at the beggining, but when you finally realized you were just his toy, his distraction, you felt nothing but repulsion towards him

and that’s on why you rejected him so coldly when he left the girl that he “truly loved” to come back to you; yeah he did. and you knew he was regretting so hard leaving you, but you simply couldn’t trust his feelings for you anymore

“please y/n ... i acted like a horny teenager, i just knew things were gonna be easier with her and i was starting to lose hope in having something more with you, but it’s you, it’s always been you” kuroo kneeled in front of you, holding your hand to prevent you from leaving. but you couldn’t do other than looking at him with eyes full of pity, knowing from the beggining what you would say to him

“i’m sorry. i can’t. i don’t trust you anymore kuroo. it was so hard for me, you know ?? you abandoned me without a fucking sign of considerateness” as you abrutly let go of his hand and turned away, leaving him there, tears started falling from the corner of your eye, but no. you weren’t going to turn back to him, you wouldn’t do such harm  to yourself

oikawa 

were you aware of his reputation ?? the answer is yes, but you felt so happy when you were around him that you didn’t care in the least. “people talk when they have nothing important to do, this boy is such a sweetheart” is what you thought when tooru oikawa started paying you more attention than he did with other girls

he is every girl’s dream, a cute boy who treats you like an absolute princess. toruu took you on inifinity of dates, and you always had such a good time with him, time went by so fast when it was spent with oikawa. you saw life in pink when he picked you up with his car and stared at you, just to let out a “you look so fucking stunning today my little cutie” 

at that time you didn’t really understand why you didn’t formalize things once and for all; he looked interested in you and you tried your best to let him know that you were into him too, the intimacy between you two was beggining to grow, you started doing more and more things together, everything was so idyllic it was hard to believe it was all real

but soon you saw the true colors of things, it didn’t take you that much time to learn that oikawa didn’t want to confess he really liked you because he didn’t want to lose all his fangirls.

it was such an ego-booster for tooru to know he had plenty of girls willing to do everything just for a night with him, that he had a big catalogue of girls to choose which one he wanted to have fun with 

it’s not that he didn’t like you, it’s just that he wasn’t confident enough for you, and it showed when you saw him flirting with another girl in front of the high school entrance, his lips so close to hers they weren’t touching for a milimeter, leaving you in a big shock. that situation made you feel the dumbest shit ever, you knew who you were dealing with but you thought he was going to be different this time 

yeah, you were the dumbest shit ever for believing that

although you waited anxiously for him to call, toruu never called you again from that day, and you couldn’t help but feel so ashamed of yourself. you knew you were fucked when you started feeling sorry for yourself, being such a desperate and ridiculous ass for some fuckboy that didn’t gave a shit about you

a good two weeks had to pass for you to start feeling better, because even if you knew you weren’t his girlfriend, you still felt betrayed. it hurt to see how you were nothing special for him, so replaceable it was even impressive 

and talking about impressive, that’s how i’d call the fact that tooru had the audacity to text you after some time like nothing hapenned. “are you angry with me ???”  — and the truth is that you weren’t angry, you were never angry with him, your feelings were deeply hurt but that’s all 

“tooru ?? what does this means ?” after hesitating for a while if you should text him back and trying to resist the temptation, you ended up doing it 

“it means please open the door my little cutie, i’m outside your house ” you couldn’t believe your eyes to what you were reading, but you went and opened the door for him to find out what all of this was about

“can i... ??” the tall setter grabbed your chin with his long and fine fingers, bringing your face closer to his. you didn’t even have time to react, oikawa didn’t finish his sentence but instead he pressed his lips against yours. you were absolutely freaking out, that leading you to break the kiss when you realized what was happening 

“the fuck you think you are doing tooru oikawa ? you think you can come here after a whole ass month and act as if nothing happened ??” 

“please listen to me y/n, it wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings, i’m sorry if you felt that way. i realized i truly want to be with you” he intensely stared into your eyes with that look of his. it was so alluring you almost gave in, but that wasn’t happening

“i’m not one of that hoes you can fuck one time and never call me back, i’m not that type. you keep saying you’re sorry about me feeling that way, not about what you fucking did. i don’t like you anymore oikawa and i regret so much that i did like you some time ago. and please now i’ll have to ask you to dissapear from my life” 

he looked at you for some seconds with watery eyes before leaving without saying a word, and you genuinely weren’t able to tell if he was feeling that way or he was faking it. but that’s it, your story with oikawa tooru, your first and last kiss with him

osamu 

your relationship with osamu was so difficult to describe, like, really difficult. you met him some years ago when you started going to inarizaki high and you didn’t really click with each other, but you soon became a great friend of atsumu

and that obviously carries seeing osamu frequently as he’s atsumu’s twin brother and they had quite a good relationship. don’t be mistaken, it’s not that you suddenly clicked and everything was amazing between you two, no

everything remained the same, and i could even say that the tension between osamu and you grew bigger because you simply couldn’t be around the other without bickering and disagreeing on the littlest of the things, that leading to atsumu having to stop you from fighting 

but who says that tension wasn’t sexual at all ?? —  because if you say so you’re completely wrong. it was so luring for you when he was just as sarcastic as you were with him, or when you said you were fucking tired of his shit and he came up with a defiantly “and what are you gonna do about it, huh ???” 

it could be said that you were never attracted to easy things, and that included persons. it was easy to see you hated each other in such a lustful way it could turn into love without none of you noticing 

and i’m not gonna lie, that’s what happened, but maybe you weren’t confident enough to confess when you noticed the feeling that started invading your heart. it was difficult to believe it could be reciprocate, but the same thing happened to osamu

none of you gave in to the feeling and things just happened to grow more tense as stupid as it may sound, leading you both to a cloud of confusion about what you should do. sadly, things don’t go always the way we want them to go 

that’s what you learned when you were hanging out at atsumu’s and jealousy suddenly consumed you on the spot. osamu nonchalantly entered the house with a girl you didn’t knew, and went all the way to his room with her without even saying his usual “hello you dumbfuck” to you, closing the door behind his back

you couldn’t help it, and you stormed out of the house without even giving atsumu an explanation, you needed to be left alone with your thoughts

for the next days you couldn’t bring the face of that random girl out of your mind for a second, she looked like she knew what she was going to do when she entered osamu’s room, and you wished so bad you were her 

but that’s what you got for not confessing on time

even though it was difficult, you had to get used to seeing the boy you like with other girl, and with the pass of time, it became easier and easier. maybe it was because you were starting to feel nothing for him but rage, rage because he didn’t notice you were so into him, or maybe he just didn’t care because he didn’t feel the same 

sometimes you would think rationally and in a lucid moment, you realized it was your fault for being a coward ass and not confessing, but that didn’t matter at all because now you were over the romantic feeling, it was just regret what was left, maybe something beautiful could have happened 

after some time, atsumu asked you what was going on that day, and now that you weren’t sensitive about that topic anymore you decided to be honest with him and tell him the truth. you could see the anguish in his face and you couldn’t tell why, but you understood it all some days after when osamu came to your house with a nervous aura and you felt even more dumb if it could happen 

“i think i like you quite a lot... you dumbfuck” (yeah as you can see you had a beautiful nickname) he let those words out with an annoyed expression in his face

“oh no this can’t be happening now” you thought to yourself. “...samu ??... and what about... her ??” 

“i left her y/n. i don’t wanna be with her if i can be with you, she was just the band-aid for my wound... you.” osamu directed his grey gaze to the floor, his expression softened as he confessed this to you. you couldn’t help but break down into tears, this couldn’t be happening to you. “hey... why are you crying y/n? are you okay?” concern showing in his voice 

“it’s just that i feel like a true dumbfuck samu.” you tried to smile through your tears and downplay the matter but it was impossible at that point. the boy looked at you with a confused guise, tilting his head to one side and furrowing his brows. “i’m sorry love... i don’t feel like that”

“but tsumu said...” — his words were interrupted by you placing your index finger against his lips as you directed your teary gaze to him.

“not anymore samu... it was a while ago. i’m deeply sorry, you can’t even imagine how much and i hope you can forgive me for being such a dumbass” you tried to say it in the softest way you could because you truly were feeling like that

“hey y/n. don’t worry. it’s not your fault. i get it, come here” you felt osamu’s arms taking you in a tight embrace, giving an end to a beautiful story that didn’t even got time to start

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fanfiction #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq headcanons #haikyuu angst #hq angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #osamu miya #osamu x you #osamu x reader

[fallingappleshurt]

Blue Fire and Shattered Glass

Okay so this was actually the first thing I wrote for the fd AU but I didn’t want it to be the first thing I posted either,,,

The creator of this is AU is the lovely @antarctic-bay !! ,,,,I’m sorry I’ve tagged you so much,,, I just really love your AU 👉👈,,,,

That being said please keep in mind my writing isn’t canon!

This is based off the part in Minetra’s giant post when she talks about the serious arguments they’ve had, I didn’t say the actual insulting things

TW: swearing, fighting, yelling

Tommy

If Wilbur had to describe Tommy in one word it would be fiery. Tommy had a fiery passion that spread through him like a wildfire with his voice, his interests, the sports that he played, and most of all, his eyes.

His eyes, despite their blue coloring, were always warm and bright with sparks flying as he spoke a mile a minute. Wilbur had always liked that about his brother.

Until they started fighting.

Techno had once told him that he was like blue fire, much hotter than normal fire but dies even faster. At the time Wilbur had told Techno to “Go the hell to sleep so you can start making sense again” but now he understood.

Wilbur had had a horrible day and, apparently, Tommy did too because he came home from practice looking pissed but instead of stewing quietly like a normal person he moved through the apartment in a jolting manner. He tripped, slipped, bumped, and knocked into everything in his path, intentional or not, it infuriated him.

He told Tommy to ‘stop trying to break the apartment and shut up’ and Tommy shot back with ‘Shut up Wilbur, don’t tell me what to do!’ and it escalated from there.

It started off small and grew into something much worse, Wilbur kept trying to push him away but Tommy kept picking at it.

“You don’t help with anything!”

“Yes I do! I have a job!”

“Only so you don’t have to do chores!”

“You’re acting like you do any of them Tommy! Techno does all of them so get out of here with that shit!”

“You are such a dipshit!”

Wilbur’s hands were balled into fists, tight at his sides, he couldn’t deal with Tommy right now. He just wanted him to shut up, then he thought of it.

If he wasn’t so irritated at the time he never would have said it, he would have felt horrible for even thinking it but in the moment he knew it would get Tommy to shut up, he knew it.

It was fire v.s fire. His hot,raging, blue to Tommy’s vibrate screaming scarlet. It all burned.

He snapped while Tommy had stopped to wait for his rebuttal, the words themselves fell slick and vile, slipping off his tongue with surprising ease. He knew he should stop but he just kept getting angrier and angrier.

Tommy suddenly stopped, eyes wide, Wilbur’s words were fiery but seemed to crash over Tommy like a wave, destroying the fire, the fight, in his eyes. He stood there, blinking rapidly at him with wide eyes, then, he looked away, shoulders shaking.

Wilbur’s fire was still raging, hand cramping from squeezing them so tight when Tommy bit his lip and peered up at him through tangled hair. He mumbled something in a cracked tone that Wilbur didn’t catch.

The fire died.

There was no more loud, burning anger, just ash, as he looked at his little brother.

Before Wilbur could apologize or even react Tommy rushed into his and Techno’s room, slamming the door.

Wilbur started to call out to him but stopped, knowing he wouldn’t listen. That had ripped him apart, washed away his flame so that not even embers or ash remained.

Techno

Techno had been getting on his nerves all day, the little sarcastic remarks and the fact that nothing Wilbur said seemed to get a reaction out of him was maddening.

They walked home together, Tommy was at practice so it was just them,they didn’t speak until they got home. When they did, Wilbur went off.

“Just because you’re in higher classes and get better grades than the rest of us doesn’t mean you’re better than everyone else!” He snapped.

Techno narrowed his eyes, “I don’t think I’m better than anyone else.”

“You act like it, with your little snide comments and eye rolls, it’s annoying!”

“You’re reading too much into that,they’re jokes.”

“They’re not funny!”

“You’re only acting like this because they were directed at you and you’ve gotten used to everyone at school tripping over themselves to put you on a pedestal.” Techno’s voice was sharp but his face remained blank.

“That is not true! You’re just an asshole!”

“That’s cool Wilbur,” Techno responded cooly, pulling a book from his backpack. He flipped through pages, ignoring Wilbur’s attempts to drag him back into the argument.

It pissed him off, nothing seemed to faze Techno but everything he said sent shockwaves of anger down Wilbur’s spine.

He continued trying to get a reaction from him, snapping insults and bullshit left and right but Techno didn’t look up from his book, he sat down at the kitchen table, he just nodded along saying, “Cool Wilbur,” or “That’s nice.”

“Would you just look at me? We are having an argument!” Wilbur snapped, banging his hand on the table. Techno didn’t even flinch.

“No, you were yelling while I was trying to read.”

“Would you just fucking talk to me?!”

Techno closed his book and stood up, pushing his chair in, “What do you even want to talk about?”

“How you treat everyone! Get your head out of your ass!”

“I could say the exact same thing to you.”

Wilbur could feel his blood boil, he was going to lose, then he thought of it.

Techno had crossed his arms, rolled his eyes, looking away, seemingly not paying attention, but he was, he always was.

Wilbur knew it was wrong, he knew it would cross the line but he didn’t care, he was just standing there with the same look on his face that he always had, he looked almost bored.

Wilbur spoke quickly, striking like a snake, waiting for the perfect moment to jump. He didn’t shout, didn’t snap, didn’t scream, just said it quickly, waiting to see a reaction.

He got one.

It was like watching glass shatter.

The world was moving in slow motion, Techno’s eyes widened, shoulders tensed, mouth forced into a thin line.

His facade splintered, he jerked to face Wilbur, screaming something incoherent at him, yanking at his own hair, gesturing frantically. He shook his head while trying to snap back, his words faltering.

Then Wilbur noticed Techno was crying.

That made him take a step back, he had seen Techno get upset before, he had yelled at them before, even cried a few times when they were younger, but never ever this.

Techno was still yelling at him but Wilbur couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying it was a jumbled, convoluted mess of emotions, tears running down his face like water down a storm drain.

Guilt wrapping tight tendrils around his chest, Wilbur watched as Techno’s shoulder shook, gaze was downcast, chest heaving. He wanted to reach out and try to bring him back to reality and get him to breath but Techno turned away.

He muttered something about needing to be alone and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He left Wilbur there to fall through the cracks of his own shattering mind.

#minecraft #tommyinnit #mcyt #philza #sleepy boys inc #minecraft youtubers #wilbur soot #technoblade #fanfiction #fanfic #fd!au #fd au #hurt no comfort #family dynamics #fighting #angst #Apples Writing

[littlefreya]

Bad Reputation

Synopsis: Henry and his girl can’t get enough from one another. They keep finding themselves in rather sticky and lusty situations while other actors are present around them. 🤭

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, exhibition kink, public display of affection, dirty language, slight fingering, daddy kink.

A/N: This is by request made for thigh riding! I see this as a slight sequel to  Putting up a Show and Good Girl just because in my mind they are the same couple. Many thanks again to the marvellous @agniavateira​ for doing the beta! Masterlist is here.

Let me know if you want to be added/removed! Thank you for reading as always :)

PR fucking nightmare - that’s what our managers call us. 

They thought it would go away after our first year of dating. But the sad truth is, Henry just loves to touch, and I’m a hot-blooded woman who loves to fuck shit up. Three years in being married and the line is so goddamn blurry by now; I am never quite certain which one of us initiates it, nor do I even care. 

I see my bear sitting sprawled across the red leather sofas, legs spread open as he can never keep them shut. I know I’m terribly biased but that black tuxedo suit sure as hell looks great on his strong figure, especially with the crooked bowtie and the beard he’s been growing for his new movie role. 

And as if the bad boy vibes and big dick energy he sends everywhere wasn’t enough, the half-empty Grey Goose bottle on the round golden table next to him and the slight sweat that covers his forehead is a red flag that we are definitely getting into trouble tonight. 

Bring it on. 

Armie is sitting right next to him, telling him about some scheme by the gesture he is making with his hands. But I can tell Henry has other things on his mind. I can feel his eyes looking at me even when I am standing far away. Our gazes meet, he offers me a mischievous smile, showing off the large dimples of his cheeks. This is what I call a wet, slippery invention. 

I blush and look away. I mean, I have Rebecca Ferguson holding my forearms. That woman makes me want to invite her into our bedroom, but Henry doesn’t like sharing, not even with women. It doesn’t matter how much I’d pout and beg, he likes me all to himself, and he loves it when others can see that I am his. 

It’s always his hand between my thighs, riding up higher, thumb tickling at my clit teasingly. We sat through an entire acceptance speech with him working me hard. If anyone looks closely at that video on Youtube, you can see the exact moment when he hits the spot.

Sorry, Leo, I wasn’t smiling because you won. 

This is us being subtle. Hotels and parties, however, are a different story. We already had a manager quit on us because we made sure the entire floor hears what we are doing through the night. 

Rebecca kisses me on the cheek, the gorgeous Swedish redhead is already tipsy, and I’ve had my second glass of wine. She’s in a red satin dress, her impressive breasts showing through her cleavage. I also spot a few freckles on her chest. It makes me pout and look at Henry, who shakes his head in refusal. 

“Where is your hubby anyway?” she asks playfully, and I point in the direction of where he is sitting. Armie is just getting up, leaving Henry alone. He pours himself some more vodka, fills the glass with ice and then takes a sip with a lustful gaze. That’s probably my cue to keep him company and take that glass away.  

That video when he told everyone to get naked will forever be online. He also has a tendency to start making impressions of others when he is flustered, and I can’t contain my laughter when that happens.

“He’s too drunk to get up.” I sigh, shaking my head while he makes playful, sad faces at me. I shrug and take my phone out my purse, seeing two text messages from him.

Henry: “Where are you, babygirl?” Henry: “I want to squeeze that ass.” 

I text him back “Armie’s? Go for it. Can we have Rebecca, pleaaaaase?” 

He reads my reply, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in complete refusal. 

“Not. sharing. you. Do you want me to spank you in front of all these people?” 

Rebecca is oddly enough very touchy-feely, her hand sliding down my forearms while she speaks about how wonderful Henry is, and how fun it was to work with him on MI6.

“He’s not like all the other ones, he is an actual friend,” she explains to me, her beautiful green eyes lighting up. 

“I know, that’s how he got me, pretended to be my friend for years.” I chuckle, remembering the times we were still just friends. If you look at videos of us from interviews and photos from events from the time we worked together, you’d think we’ve been dating already. He always touched me subtly, his eyes staring at me intently when I speak. And of course, no one cracks him up the way I do.

But Henry waited 5 years for both of us to be single at the same time to “kidnap” me during a walk with our dogs at the forest, where I’d literally be unable to run away. He did that so he can tell me he’s been in love and growing in love with me ever since we met.

I smile at the sweet memory. I held my tears when that word left his lips.

“I’ll come to say hello later, I’m starving,” she says and rubs her belly gently. I nod and lean forward to kiss her, deliberately kissing her soft, red-painted lips for Henry to see. Us girls, we really don’t mind.

As I turn to face him, he is already frowning. He’s not amused by my vexing behaviour. I give him my best angelic posture, batting my lashes and holding my hands together while my head is tilted to the side. In that pale blue and silver dress, I might look like some saint right now, but my darling knows I’ve come from south to heaven.

I make my way to him, walking slowly, a smile both in my eyes and between my cheeks. I can feel the fire burning in my chest, the sight of him is dashing, those thick thighs ever so inviting. He spreads his legs even wider, the bulge in his groin made only for me. He has his pinky finger pressed between his teeth while checking me out.

My body heeds his calling, I’m tingling wet. 

I stand in front of him, my cheeks warm as if this is a first hook up of some sort. Henry rises his beautiful blues to stare straight into my eyes. The beaming lights in the hall make his sweaty skin glow in neon pink and gold, his eyes flashing bright as the different colours dance across his face.

“How many of those have you had?” I ask, gesturing at the glass, noticing the half-empty bottle. I hope not too much, I expect to be rammed tonight when we return to the hotel. 

He shrugs, putting the glass away without bothering to finish it. He is British, and boy, he can drink a lot. He is not as half as flustered as a different guy would be, but yes, he is certainly quite drunk. Enough to give me that look of his-one eyebrow rising up-while his eyes drink in my dress, cleavage, ass, and that slit that runs from my legs to my thighs.

My friends asked me if Henry is an ass or tits man, to which my answer was “he is ‘all of me’ man.” 

“Gotta love women's liberation.” He speaks in a deep, low voice, gesturing at my provocative dress. 

“Come to daddy.” He demands, holding out his hand for me to come and sit on his thigh. To which I am more than happy to comply.

I spread my legs, moving to straddle his muscular thigh. There is a burning sensation at my core as my pelvis meets his taut muscle. My body always reacts to his touch. Henry’s hands immediately take my face, thumbs stroking at my cheeks.

“Why do you tease me, beautiful?” he murmurs, his fierce gaze tracing my face, always taken by me, memorizing every freckle and flaw as if it’s the first time we ever sit so close. God, he makes me feel so beautiful even in my ugliest of ugly days.

I lean forward to get even closer, my ass riding up his leg and my hands reach out to tug at his white buttoned shirt. “Oh, Henry-Bear, it’s. So. much. fun.”

Someone sits right next to us on the big red sofa, saying a friendly hello. We answer at the same time, without breaking eye contact. We never bother looking who is the actor, producer, or whatever who moved to bug us. Too lost in our own little mist of admiration. Henry’s fingers descend from my face to my neck, fingers skirting down my neck sensually. 

“You know what I love about these ceremonies and parties?” he asks as he leans closer to whisper in my ear and then places a wet, lingering kiss on my shoulder. His chin pushes the straps of my dress away, letting it fall on my forearm as if by accident. I let it glide, shivering as the coarse hair of his beard marks my flesh.

“I get to show you off while you’re wearing these outrageous dresses and everyone knows I am taking you home to fuck you until sunrise.”

I chuckle lustfully, my tongue pressed between my teeth. “Last time we didn’t even make it home remember?” I hum gently, feeling his rough touch on my breasts. The tip of his thumbs circles my nipples, teasing them to harden through the thin fabric of my dress. I wouldn’t give a fuck if Henry had me topless right now and sink his fangs in my tits for everyone to see. But he is far too selfish, I was made for his eyes and his eyes only.

He settles for a “chaste” show, laying a kiss beneath my chin and then pressing his face at my cleavage, inhaling the scent of my body lotion before nibbling at my breast through my dress. His breath smells like vodka-sweet and spicy at once.

“I remember, Cumberbatch saw the whole thing,” he answers, his hands holding my ribs, slightly guiding me to move my body on top of his thigh in ghostlike movements. I am searing hot, my mound feels as if it’s seconds from catching fire. I am certain he can feel it, his blue eyes now hazy and dreamlike as they watch the pink tint that runs through my neck to my cheeks. 

“Fuck me, daddy, I am so horny!”

My whisper comes out as half a cry, weak and desperate. My body is a void, it suffers without his touch, it aches when we’re disjointed. I hope we’ll never stop feeling this way toward one another. 

“Ride me, babygirl.” he urges me, raising his thigh up higher, so I’ll slide down closer. The friction makes me lose sight for a moment. My vision blurs as I throb wet and hot onto him. Good thing his trousers are black, otherwise, everyone would be able to detect the wetness I am leaving on his pants. 

I can’t reject his decree, my body needs him. 

“You like it when they watch, don’t you?” he asks me with a slightly slurred voice. His hands glide down to squeeze my ass, assisting me in dancing on the rock-hard muscle of his leg. I am grinding slow and rough, shifting my weight forward, my right hand reaching his other thigh, clawing at him with growing pleasure.

Everyone is looking at us, I am sure, some embarrassed and perhaps even appalled. How puritan of you Hollywood. These people formed their own religion and hidden sex clubs. But I am convinced many enjoy this facade and discreetly salute us, some probably holding out their cameras.  

I roll my hips up and clench my inner thighs, whimpering as my body begins to tremble.  

It doesn’t matter who is staring while I ride him so passionately, seeking my pleasure with urgency while Henry’s hands support me, saddling my hips and pulling me toward him. We don’t see anyone else. We’re locked into one another, the way we always did, just like when Henry had a girlfriend, when we were “just friends” when I dated that asshole. We’d walk into a room, and it was just me and him, hearts and chest bursting with love.

Every moment we couldn’t have one another was stolen from us, we now fight to own it back.  

“I’d sit you on my face in front of everyone, but I think Gretchen would kill us.” Henry half whispers against my throat and then licks up my neck as I lift my chin to the ceiling with gaping lips. He has his hand between my legs, drawing at my centre and sneaking between the slit of my dress to finish the job. 

“Fuck!” he teases my clit, his middle finger travelling at my seams. My entire existence shudders. The bass of the music blasts through my chest, my eardrums throb, and my eyes see all the colours of the neon at once as my cunt implodes with orgasmic bliss. Henry steals my gasp into his mouth, his hand pressing my cheeks, crushing my mouth with hunger. 

Who could ever hate us for our expression of true love?

I gasp feverishly, holding onto him as if I’m about to fall. Henry’s lips are on my temple and then my cheek. Pressing against me and not moving away. He envelops me in his big arms, a clear statement to all our viewers that I am his and he is mine.  We both move our heads to see who's been sitting next to us this entire time.

Alec Baldwin and Jake Gyllenhaal. They pretend not to stare, at least Alec does. Jake gives us a wide, knowing smile. Everyone else has also been staring as I hear the whispers and gasps. 

“Really? They did that again!?”

We bump our foreheads together and snicker with delight. Like we ever gave a fuck about being caught. It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. We just can’t get our hands off of each other. 

“Better call Gretchen now.” I tell Henry, hanging my arm around his thick neck. 

“Before or after I fuck you in one of the back rooms here?”

#Henry Cavill #Smut #Henry Cavill Smut #Henry Cavill Fic #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry cavill fanfic #Fanfic #henrycavillsmut #henrycavillfanfic #henrycavillxofc #henrycavillfic

[iamcayc]

Chapter 2: Kids

Fandom: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Gojo Satoru/Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Flirting, Developing Relationship, Original Character(s), Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, annoyances to lovers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Vaginal Fingering, Heavy Petting, Gojo Satoru is a Little Shit

---

The phone ringing startles you as you’re sitting on your couch, a true crime documentary on the television as the soundtrack to your night of grading essays. There’s still half a stack of essays to slog through, and only one more glass of wine left in the bottle on your coffee table.

You glance at the screen of your phone, frowning at the name you see.

“What’s up, Nanami?” The phone rests against your shoulder as you scribble a barely-passing grade on the paper in your hand.

“You busy?”

Well, this isn’t going to end well.

“I’m almost out of wine and have twelve more essays to suffer through before I can call it a night.” Nanami chuckles at your predicament. “So, yeah, I guess you can say I’m a bit busy. Why?”

Nanami sighs and you can just see him rubbing his temple as he tries to work out a way to ask you something he knows you aren’t going to like.

“Spit it out, would ya?” you probe with a sigh.

“Satoru wants your help with a mission.”

Your frown immediately deepens. “I already told him that I’m not a sorcerer.”

A muffled series of thwumps and thuds force you to hold the phone away from your ear before a new voice chirps through the device.

“Technically, you only told me that you have asthma,” Gojo says brightly. “You didn’t say anything about not being a sorcerer.”

Your eyes narrow at nothing in particular. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re the kind of guy who likes to point out technicalities?”

Gojo chuckles, the sound a warm caress through the phone. You’re fairly certain that’s mostly the wine reacting, but you aren’t taking any chances.

“Regardless, let me make it perfectly clear to you: I am not any kind of practicing, jujutsu sorcerer,” you say slowly, clearly. “I received enough training to keep my energy in check and help out where I can as a Window since I work at a school and know what to look for. Now, if you’d be so kind as to return my cousin’s phone, I’d like to tell him to make himself available for you since he is sorcerer.”

A soft grunt sounds as you listen to the phone getting passed back to Nanami. “I’m sorry, Kaya. I tried explaining—where the fuck are you going? Satoru!”

As he shouts Gojo’s name, a polite knock sounds at your door. You leap to your feet, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Kaya? Kaya, are you there?” Nanami’s voice sounds tired. “Do not open that door. You give this guy a fucking inch and he takes a mile.”

“Are you telling me that the random-ass person knocking on my door right now is Gojo?” you ask tersely. “Because I’m pretty fucking sure I live a solid distance away from your school.”

Nanami sighs and mutters a series of graphic swears as the person at the door begins to knock on the door to the beat of “Mary had a Little Lamb.”

“I can’t tell you if he’s being so stubborn because he genuinely needs your technique, or if he’s only thinking with his cock, but you do not have to answer that door.” You snort, not buying for a second that Gojo has any intention of giving up so quickly.

“I’m never having dinner with you again,” you hiss into the phone before hanging up. As far as you’re concerned, this is all Nanami’s fault for allowing Gojo to crash their weekly dinner. You toss the phone on your couch before stomping towards the door and yanking it open to reveal a casually-dressed Gojo leaning against the jamb with a grin.

“What the fuck do you want?” you ask with thinly-veiled hostility. Gojo ignores the venom and grins wider.

“I have to say,” he remarks, “I think you’ve got the most beautiful eyes when you’re irritated.”

You haven’t wanted to throttle someone in so long, you forgot what it felt like to have your blood boil.

“What do you want?” you ask again, this time through gritted teeth.

“Your help.” Gojo tilts his head innocently as he looks at you. “Pretty please?”

The bubbling frustration with this man isn’t something you need your neighbors witnessing, so you step aside and yank him through the door, surprised that he allowed you to grab hold of him at all, considering what you know of him.

You ignore his chuckle as you stomp back into your living room and pause your documentary, knowing you’ll likely have to restart the whole thing since you missed so much thanks to the asshat currently making himself comfortable on your couch. He stretches his arm along the back of the sofa, tilting his head back to look at you.

“You’ve got a nice place for a teacher.” You stare at him. He did not just backhand compliment you. “Though, the sound proofing tiles are a little odd.”

“You’re an asshole,” you tell him with a glare. “And now that I am fully aware of the fact that you have highly selective hearing, let me say this one more time: I have absolutely no interested in joining your mission.”

“Because of your asthma, right?”

Dear fucking god, you want to punch him.

“And the fact that I’m not a fucking sorcerer. I have never and will never work as one.”

“Why not?” Gojo watches you as you sink onto a pillow on the floor at the coffee table. “Nanamin isn’t anywhere near my level and he still makes a solid living doing exorcisms.”

You look at him as you pick up your red pen. “If you had to quantify the actual size of your ego, how big would it be?”

The jab is ignored with a dismissive wave. “Your cursed technique, it’s based on sounds that you personally create, right?”

“I mean, it’s definitely bigger than your dick. There’s no way that thing is bigger than a handful of centimeters, considering the way you carry on every time I have the displeasure of seeing you.”

“But that can’t be it, because if that were the case, you would be wreaking havoc on the populace if you so much as farted.”

“I wonder what that server thought when you finally whipped it out, after doing everything she could think of to get your attention? Ha! I bet she was so disappointed.”

Gojo leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he grins at you. His aura is practically dancing around him; he’s loving every second of this.

“You really didn’t like her, did you?”

“I really didn’t care either way.” Half-truth, but who’s counting? “I just got tired of seeing her tits every time she came to check on us. That, and her aura was starting to make me motion sick with the undulating and buzzing.”

He raises a white brow. “You can see auras?”

“I heard them first. I’ve always been sensitive to sounds.” You frown at the introductory paragraph of the paper in your hand. Did you students even read the assignment? “I only started to see the auras after training with Nanami.”

“I’ve never heard of someone hearing an aura... what’s mine sound like?”

You look up at him, surprised to see that he’d taken off the sunglasses he’d been wearing to pin you with those eyes. Why is someone so far up their own ass this hot?

Setting down your pen, you take a breath to center yourself, allowing your own aura to reach out to his. You let your eyes guide the edges of your aura along the edges his, like a bow across a string. If Gojo feels anything, he doesn’t say; he just watches you with an intense expression.

At some point, you let your eyes meet his, and that’s when his aura begins singing to you.

“You sound like a cello’s mid-range, that sweet spot of notes on the G and D strings.”

“What does your sound like?”

The question throws you off. No one has ever asked about yours before. It’s not that you don’t know how your aura sounds, but rather, you aren’t sure how to explain what you hear.

“It sounds like me,” you reply plainly. “I sound like... just me.”

He regards you quietly before letting his cheek rest on his fist. His gaze softens as he looks at you, sending whatever traces of annoyance you feel towards him scattering into nothing.

“There have been reports of a cursed human loose in a residential area outside of Hidaka. Some sightings have it listed as a child, others say it's a few adults. But all the witnesses agree that whatever it is, it’s luring children from the area into the woods.”

“Is this the part where you tell me why Six Eyes needs me to find some cursed human in the woods?”

He shrugs. “I’m not good with kids.”

You snort. “You’re a teacher.”

“And you’ll notice that my students are well above the age of 6 years old.”

“So are mine.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“Pot, meet kettle.” You set down your pen and look at him seriously. “And before you throw my whole aura-sight at me, I’ll point out that you seemed to have no idea that I could see auras until a few minutes ago. So, tell me why you want my help on a mission you and your students are more than equipped to handle on your own?”

Gojo leans back against the couch once again and sighs. You let silence creep into the space between you. His aura isn’t singing anymore, but it isn’t agitated, so you haven’t totally pissed him off. Yet.

“I want you to lure the curses out and get them to bring the missing kids with them.” One of his hands slides through his hair. “At least, that was my initial idea. But, if you can see and hear auras, that might help us get the kids out before shit goes south with the curses.”

You frown. “That original plan assumes that I can control more than one curse at a time, which isn’t the most fool-proof, either. I’m not being modest when I say that I’m not a sorcerer, I’m being honest. Your dark-haired student’s aura is more powerful than mine, and he wasn’t even trying to let me see his aura.”

Gojo considers you quietly, his blue eyes shimmering in the artificial light of your apartment. You’re tempted to examine the shifting colors of his irises up close, until you remember that you know better than to let your body anywhere near a man that self-confident.

“I’d say you’re an upper Grade 3, just as you are now. Properly motivated, maybe a Grade 2. Still, that’s more than enough to draw out a few curses. I don’t need you to exorcise them, only get their attention and make them a bit more docile for the kids to take out.”

“You really aren’t going to let this one go, are you?” you ask him, sighing as you rest your chin on the heel of your palm. He flashes you a bright grin, sending an armada of butterflies up your stomach and into your throat.

“Nope.”

You lean back on your palms as you look at him. You have no interest in telling him that you’ve already decided to help since there are missing kids involved, so you let him watch you watch him. Because, maturity.

“And what do I get out of this? Other than a potential asthma attack?”

His grin slips into a smirk. “What do you want?”

You raise your brow, knowing full well what he’s insinuating. “I don’t touch sloppy seconds, thanks. I was thinking more along the lines of a few bottles of really nice wine, or maybe an expensive whisky. Or, if you’re feeling really guilty about triggering my asthma, never asking me to help with your job ever again.”

“Since I’m feeling generous, why don’t you decide after you’ve helped me out? You know, see how much effort you have to put in and get the most reward for your buck.”

You don’t trust that new sparkle in his eyes as you agree to his terms.

You only agree to meet Gojo and the others after school the next day because the sooner you’re done with this favor, the better. Then, you can get back to watching Netflix specials on serial killers and grading piss-poor essays on the Baroque movement in peace.

The grounds of the Tokyo Jujutsu High School are well kept, despite there being so few students enrolled. The spans of the campus practically begged to be bustling with chattering students, but all it gets is the occasional grumpy alumni and sporadic admissions.

It wouldn’t hurt to plant some flowers either.

“I told you she wasn’t going to show up with a flute or drum!” You glance over your shoulder and see Gojo leading the two boys from before and a new addition, a girl with down-turned eyes and a bored expression.

Gojo inclines his head towards you by way of greeting. “Kaya, you saw these two yesterday, Yuji and Megumi.” His thumb points out Pinky first, then the dark-haired kid whose temperament you like. “This is my other first-year, Nobara.”

You wave with a polite smile, your teacher’s smile. “Nice to meet you all.”

Nobara peers at you a little longer, her eyes sweeping up and down your outfit with analytical eyes. You couldn’t wait to hear what a sixteen year old has to say about your clothes. You chose to swap out your black jeans for a sturdy pair of athletic leggings to increase mobility, though you are acutely aware of how tight the pants are, especially around your ass.

You pick at an invisible lint on the sleeve of your jacket. Gojo is doing a marvelous job of surveying your… assets.

“I want you to design our new uniforms,” she declares boldly. You blink in surprise since that is definitely not what you were expecting. Not sure what’s so stunning about leggings and a rarely-used running shirt, even if it has Gojo eyeballing your butt with enough heat to send his aura in languid waves around him.

“Thanks, I think.” You slip on your leather jacket and look over at Gojo with an arched brow. “Are you finished gawking? I have classes to teach tomorrow, and there’s nothing worse than trying not to make a bunch of teenage girls cry when you’re too tired to tell them their god-awful piano composition sounds like something out of a third-rate anime.”

If they thought Nobara offers up some hot takes, they need to see you with less than six hours of sleep and a full day of classes on the horizon.

Gojo chuckles as he rubs his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. There is something unfairly sensual about the motion, and extremely predatory. Frowning slightly, you turn away and hand the kids the the earplugs you had stuffed in your pocket before you’d left the apartment.

“What’re these for?” Yuji asks, inspecting the bits of foam like you just handed him cocaine. .

“Maestro, here, uses a cursed technique rooted in sound.” You feel Gojo sling his arm around your shoulders. “Though, seems like she didn’t bring enough for me to get a pair, too.”

You shoot him a look. “You know precisely why I didn’t bother. Now, can we please get a move on?”

Wordlessly, the kids gather around and latch onto Gojo’s jacket, and you brace yourself for the gut-punch that comes along with teleporting. Nanami graciously informed you of Gojo’s aptitude for warping after a series of threats of bodily harm that exponentially increased in severity the more he dodged your questions. In that time, you realized that Gojo’s perpetual use of Limitless could stop your technique without a thought.

You’re in the midst of replaying a particularly entertaining memory of Nanami squealing like a pig after you started to make him juggle kitchen knives when you feel a strong hand press you against Gojo’s chest by the small of your back. Sputtering with utter indignation, you glare up at the grinning man, wishing with every fiber of your being that your knee could make contact with his balls at that moment.

“Ready, maestro?”

“Fuck off, Gojo.” Yuji snickers from behind him. Gojo watches you expectantly and your glare deepens. “I’m ready.”

“There’s a good girl.”

“Dude, keep that shit up and she’s going to find a way around your Limitless to kick your ass,” Megumi mutters from the right. “And Lord knows, the majority of us will sell tickets to that show.”

You don’t hear Gojo’s reply as you're lost in trying not to hurl all over the man as he yanks your body through space. The surrounding trees whisper and rustle in the evening breeze, the low glow of the sunset making the setting feel eerie. You hope the missing kids are okay, but you’re jaded enough to know better. Rolling your shoulders, you shake off the creeping shadows of memories you’ve worked hard to ignore on a daily basis.

“You’re up, Kaya.” Gojo nods at you as he removes his blindfold, his eyes more aquamarine in the dying light. “Think you can tag the auras for me?”

“Everyone got their earplugs in?” you ask the teenagers behind you. They all respond with solemn nods, their expressions resolute. You glance at Gojo, his eyes unseeing but all-seeing as he looks out into the forest around you.

“When I start singing, Six Eyes should pick up any auras my technique hits, like sonar.” It’s been over a year since you last sang, but you’d prepped your vocal cords most of the day with hot tea and a couple shots of bourbon before heading to the school. “I’ll also be willing whatever hears me to come to me as I sing.”

He looks at you with slight concern. “How long can you sustain that?”

You set square your shoulders and look back out into the darkness ahead. “As long as I need to. My priority will be the kids, you guys can deal with the cursed human.”

He nods as you take a deep breath to settle the flurry of nerves in your stomach. Why are you so nervous about singing in front of Gojo, of all people? His opinion has never mattered to you, since the moment he crashed your dinner. Who cares if he doesn’t like the song choice or if he thinks your voice is garbage?

“Unsteady” by X Ambassadors is a go-to warm up song for you. It sits right in your chest range, so it’s easy to project as you start walking slowly into the woods. Besides, you know how it feels to beg someone, anyone for help but end up ignored instead.

Gojo’s footfalls are nearly silent as he stalks behind you, but your voice makes his aura pulse against your own. It’s a comforting feeling, lending you more courage than you were feeling, that’s for sure.

A sharp rustling to your left makes you pause, the movement too harsh and erratic to dismiss as an animal. The icy blue of the aura halos around a tiny form, the fear tinkling like a shrill bell being shaken by a child. Gojo stiffens behind you, but you raise your palm before shooing him back.

Without faltering in the song, you crouch down in the direction of the stumbling child, pulling a small handbell from your other jacket pocket. A steady, calming beat in time with your singing pulses forward, coaxing the child out slowly as her aura shifts from pale blue to a saturated cobalt.

A little girl, no older than six or seven, flies into your arms, making your stumble in your singing. She’s coated in dirt and gods know what else, clutching your jacket so tight that her tiny knuckles turn white.

“You caught the culprit’s attention,” Gojo chuckles as you soothe the frightened child into letting go of your jacket. She clings to your leg when you stand, her snot and tears soaking into your leggings. You try not to cringe, but Gojo catches your obvious distaste and laughs, earning him a glare.

“There’s a cluster of black auras there,” you tell him quietly, gesturing further into the woods, to the east. “I can see them, but they’re silent.”

He hums as he nods, stroking his chin thoughtfully before he looks at you again. His eyes flick to the little girl, whose grip on your leg is starting to get painful, and it’s in that moment you realize two things.

First, that you get to tell Gojo, “I told you so.”

Second, in relation to the first, the tiny girl death-gripping your leg has an aura that is shrieking and melting into an opaque black.

Fuck.

Without a second thought, you send a surge of your cursed energy into your aura, ballooning it up rapidly. You swing the handbell down sharply, a clear, piercing note with the demand to be let go striking the tiny cursed human, tossing her away from you a good 30 yards.

A dull ringing pulses in your ears as you struggle to keep your balance. You shouldn’t have used that move so soon out of semi-retirement.

Arms scoop you up before you hit the ground. Muffled voices bicker as you barely hold onto your consciousness, but they fade away quickly as you’re overtaken with another bout of nausea that pulls you back towards consciousness. You try to move, but the arms hold you tighter against what you learn is Gojo’s chest.

“Easy, easy.” His breath warms your face as he calms you. “Shocked you’re not passed out yet.”

You don’t have the energy to remind him that he’s the pot and you’re the kettle when it comes to stubbornness. Based on the bits and pieces of the room you can see through still-blurred vision, he had warped you both back to your apartment.

He lays you down on your bed, checks your pulse, then slips out of the room long enough to get you a glass of water and a banana.

“I told you I wasn’t a sorcerer for a reason,” you mumble as you push yourself up slowly. The dizziness is gone, but exhaustion presses against your bones at this point. Gojo sits on the edge of the bed as he watches you sip at the water and peel the banana.

“Your stamina is shit, yeah. But you know what you’re doing.” You break apart the banana bite by bite. Like hell you’re going to eat an obviously phallic fruit in front of a man with the maturity level of a teenage boy. “I’d say with a bit of training, you could hold your own without passing out again.”

You shoot him a look that hopefully conveys how little interest you have in making that a reality. He only gives you a small smile before he stands.

“Better go check on the kids, make sure they didn’t completely fuck that simple exorcism.” He pauses at the bedroom door, lifting his blindfold just enough to look at you with one eye. “Thanks for your help, maestro. Think about what you want for compensation. I’ll be in touch.”

He winks at you with that one azure eye before he just blinks out of sight. Your thoughts start replaying your time in his arms, a coveted location, you’re sure. He smelled like cedarwood and eucalyptus, but on the designer fragrance side of the spectrum, which surprises you considering how boring his attire generally is.

Sighing, you fish your phone out of the inner pocket of your jacket and swipe it open. No new messages, but a couple of missed calls from Nanami. You’re too tired to both giving him a lecture, so you just tell him he’s your personal chauffeur tomorrow until you can pick you bike up from the school.

And if you even THINK about sending Gojo in your place, consider yourself a eunuch the next time I see you, got it?

You don’t bother to see if he responds. Instead, you shed your clothes and crawl back under the covers, setting a few different alarms, just in case. Yawning, you curl onto your side and let your eyes drift closed, willing your brain to just shut the fuck up with the semi-intrusive thoughts. Falling asleep now would get you a solid 7.5 hours, more than enough for another round of compositional reviews.

I wonder what he thought of my singing…

#jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #archive of our own #fanfiction #ao3 #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x oc #nanami kento #also on ao3 #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara

[captcas]

Khristmas Karaoke

Khristmas Karaoke by capthamm

Their annual Khristmas Karaoke sheds light on relationships, old and new. read on ao3

“Come on, Killian… She does this all the time. Aren’t you better off without her at this point?” Emma slaps Neal’s arm at his shitty attempt to comfort their friend after Milah ended things… again. She won’t admit her boyfriend is 100 percent correct, because that’s not the point. Killian has alwayshad a thing for Milah no matter how awful she treated him and each time she ends things, Emma knows it breaks him a little more.

She keeps waiting for the time it breaks him entirely.

It’s their friends’ annual Khristmas Karaoke– Mary Margaret insisted on the alliteration– and Milah just didn’t show. It’s a big deal when someone invites a significant other, effectively indoctrinating them into their core group of four– David, Mary Margaret, Killian, and Emma. This is Neal’s second year, which really, truly only freaks Emma out a little (a lot), but it was supposed to be Milah’s first. Killian, Emma’s ever cautious best friend, refrained from inviting her last year, but when Emma said she was bringing Neal again, Killian jumped in immediately and said he was bringing Milah.

Milah chose tonight to tell Killian she didn’t want to see him anymore.

Figures.

With Milah, it was always about her and Emma is convinced Milah’s selfishness is the only reason she was still with Killian. He treated Milah like a queen without so much as a birthday wish in return. (Seriously, she forgot one year and Emma was left to pick up the pieces Killian so gallantly insisted were nonexistent, but Emma could tell– she can always tell with Killian.) Either way, Milah’s lack of interest in anything to do with Killian always made Emma uncomfortable. She wants more for her friend; knowing he deserves more than to be someone’s puppy dog.

But Emma would never say that to Killian. She looks over at him and he’s clearly sulking, so she does what any best friend would do, “Come on KJ, we’re singing.” He goes to protest but Emma grabs his arm before shouting her drink order to David who mock salutes. “Ok go pick something, I’m going to run to the bathroom.” Killian nods, still seemingly unwilling to play along but too nice to deny Emma anything. She shoves him towards the stage and heads towards the bathroom.

After freshening up, Emma heads back towards the stage only to run directly into another woman. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” The woman looks up and a flash of recognition crosses her face. Emma recognizes her too, but she can’t put her finger on it. They both wave awkwardly before Emma heads to the stage and the familiar woman heads into the bathroom.

Killian is standing next to the stage flipping through the song book when she approaches, “Anything look good?”

“Hmm?” Emma can tell he’s in a different universe and she figures now is as good as any to tell him how she really feels about his Milah .

“Killian, I know you loved her… or love her… whatever. But she keeps you on this retractable leash so she can use you when it’s convenient for her.” Killian doesn’t look at her but she knows he’s listening. “I’m not saying her being a shitty person makes this hurt less, but Neal asked to come tonight… just something to think about.”

It’s her last comment that makes Killian turn towards her, “So you love him then?”

Emma should know how to answer that– she and Neal have been together almost two years, it should be easy– but when Killian poses the question, the correct answer seems to fail her completely.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

It’s a non answer, and Killian knows it, but Emma doesn’t have time to unpack her sudden stumble when posed with what should’ve been an easy question. She’s told Neal she loves him hundreds of times... so, why can’t she say she loves him to others? Something in the back of her mind whispers it’s because Killian is the one asking, but she shoves it down. They’ve had their chance– maybe hundreds of chances– and the timing just… never lined up.

She’s so deep in thought, she almost misses Killian’s answer, “Aye, that he is.” He looks at her intently, maybe expecting her to elaborate, but Emma is coming up short. She doesn’t understand why she couldn’t give him a straight answer– in truth, she doesn’t want to admit why. Somewhere deep down Killian knows this, because Killian knows her . He concedes after a few moments of silence, turning back to the task at hand, “Let’s sing the Grinch.”

Emma smiles, memories of their yearly Grinch Binge, echoing through her mind. Mary Margaret and David can be… a lot. They are very in love and don’t mind showing it off, so ever since they finally got together, Emma and Killian sprouted a few traditions of their own. Neal never liked Christmas movies, no matter how hard Emma tried to get him to watch even the easy ones like Elf with her. Killian loves them– especially the Grinch. So every year, on the Saturday before Christmas, Emma and Killian hunker down and watch every version of the Grinch they can find. When the new one came out last year, they went and saw it in theaters before watching the rest of them. It’s silly, and some of the versions are old and awful, but it’s their thing and Emma looks forward to it every year.

As the first chord hits, Killian still seems to be in his head, so Emma starts, “ You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch.” She accents the words by singing in the lowest voice possible, and directing them at Killian. He’s clearly holding back a smile so she continues, “ You really are a heel. You’re as cuddly as a cactus,” she wiggles up against Killian causing him to burst out laughing before joining her for the rest of the song.

They sing it awfully, but neither of them even needs to look at the prompter. When it’s over they bow obnoxiously as Mary Margaret and David cheer. They break into a fit of laughter before hugging tightly. She finally composes herself when over Killian’s shoulder Emma sees something that makes her blood run cold. She must noticeably react because she hears a concerned, “Swan?” in her ear, but she can’t focus when it feels like the entire room is underwater and she’s drowning.

The name of the woman from the bathroom comes rushing back to her as she watches Tamara kiss Neal in the back corner of the bar. She recognizes her as the secretary at Neal’s office and suddenly all the pieces are coming together: late nights and business trips paired with a suspicious lack of increase in income. How could she be so stupid . If Emma hadn’t gone to hug Killian, she never would’ve seen them, her view blocked by the bright lights of the stage. But she did hug Killian and she does see them.

She’s going to be sick.

For a brief moment, she hopes Tamara just came onto him, and waits for him to push her away. He doesn’t, in fact Emma’s pretty sure Neal leans in further. Emma feels her face turn beat red. Before she can think about what she’s doing, she lets go of Killian and leans into the microphone, twisting her body so she can still see Neal and Tamara, “Neal Cassidy, we are done. Tamara, once a cheater, always a cheater but he’s alllll yours. Merry Christmas everyone!”

She feels Killian go stiff at her side when he realizes what just happened. She grabs his wrist, knowing full well his instinct would be to go beat the shit out of Neal.

It’s her instinct, too.

But, in an attempt to be a bigger person, she drags Killian (and herself) back to the table. As they approach, Killian is stoic, David is hiding his head, and Mary Margaret looks like she’s about to explode. Both halves of the annoyingly happy couple begin to talk, but hesitate as they clearly look for the appropriate words for a completely inappropriate situation. Emma cuts them off, “Shots? Shots. Bartender, please put these on Mr. Cassidy’s tab.” Killian goes to protest, but Emma practically pours the whiskey down his throat, subsequently ending their pity party for the night.

. . .

Mary Margaret and David are long gone, but Killian has been a worthy partner to avoid self-pity with. Somewhere between the three shots of Fireball and her third Captain and Coke, he assured her she deserved better while they threw metaphorical darts at each other’s significant others. She knows she should be sad about Neal, but the longer she spends with Killian, the less she seems to care. Maybe it’s the drinks, or maybe it’s the company, but Emma finds herself up on stage, one more time, with Killian cheering her on... much to the chagrin of the rest of the bar.

Emma isn’t sure what song she’s singing, when the host called Mary Margaret’s name Emma subbed in enthusiastically; she’s feeling good despite the events of the night and she’s ready to go. It takes two seconds for her to recognize Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” and only two more for her to start serenading Killian obnoxiously from across the bar.

But it’s all fun and games until the words you’re singing sink in.

“ I just want you for my own,

More than you could ever know”

The more she sings to Killian, the more she realizes the words aren’t very far off from how she feels about him, no matter how cheesy this song truly is. She’s always ignored her feelings for Killian, brushing them off as inconsequential and platonic– due to proximity and nothing more— but they’ve been nagging at her since he asked her if she loved Neal. Somehow, telling Killian she loved someone else would feel like the final nail in the coffin for any chance she had with him.

What is she thinking?

Emma feels the emotions bubble up inside of her until she’s practically overflowing– and then she’s literally overflowing… all over the stage.

It doesn’t take long for Killian to rush to her side, scooping her up and hauling ass to the bathroom. If she didn’t feel so sick, maybe she’d have room to be embarrassed. Killian doesn’t speak, just springs into action– holding back her hair, and keeping her comfortable until she’s entirely emptied out. She sits back, finally feeling well enough to register how embarrassing this situation actually was, but Killian doesn’t miss a beat, “Alright, Swan. Let’s get you some water. I’ll be right back, aye?”

He helps her lean against the wall and hurries out of the bathroom. Emma hangs her head in her hands while she lets the wave of emotions wash over her.

She’s very thirsty.

She’s very embarrassed.

She’s very in love with her best friend.

Fuck .

Killian returns with a glass of water and a toothbrush– how the fuck did he find a toothbrush? She finds she doesn’t really care and is just grateful to have someone looking out for her at all. Killian stands patiently in the corner while she brushes her teeth and downs the water. She turns to face him and maybe it’s the hydration, but she already feels better. “Well, now that I’ve topped off a perfectly shitty night. Are you ready to go home?”

Killian chuckles and nods before reaching out his hand to lead her from the bathroom and out of the bar. They walk hand in hand, swinging their arms between them until it gets a little colder and Emma finds she still has just enough of a buzz to go for it. She wraps her arms around Killian’s, hugging him tightly before resting her head on his shoulder. They’ve done this a million times, but tonight it feels different– she wonders if he feels it too as their pace slows and they walk in silence.

Emma’s always been on the search for that missing piece, the part of her that will undeniably make her whole. For a while she thought it was Neal, but she sees now she was trying to fit a corner piece into the center of her puzzle. She’d like to think, as they walk arm in arm in a comfortable silence, that Killian could be that piece, but she’s not sure. When she’s with Killian, she doesn’t feel like there’s a part of her that needs to be filled at all– not because he filled it, but because he sees her as complete.

Maybe this is how it's supposed to be– not loving in spite of the missing, broken, or faded pieces, but because of them.. Killian has loved her through everything. She’s just been to blind to see it as anything more than friendship– just happy enough to even have that. But what if she could have more. Mariah Carey starts singing in her head again and Emma feels like maybe she’s let her thoughts get out of hand, but when Killian’s thumb brushes gently over hers, she thinks maybe he’d understand, “This isn’t all I want for Christmas.”

Killian stops abruptly, “I’m sorry?” When he automatically apologizes, Emma realizes she needs to elaborate. Nerves course through her— years of heartbreak playing like a broken record in her mind telling her to put up her guard and run the other way. She’s not sure she’s ready for this— to share her entire self with him, but is anyone ever ready? Is there anyone she’d rather tell? The the resounding “no” that echoes through her train of thought which encourages her to continue on,

“No, no, I mean… You know when you’re a kid and you write out your Christmas list with everything you could possibly want and send it to Santa, and you are sure if you get everything on that list you’ll be truly happy?” Emma is positive she looks insane right now, but Killian is nodding and seems to be following along. “Ok, then Christmas morning comes and maybe you get one or two things off the list, but you already forgot about all the other things because just having this one thing is enough to make you happy. It’s not complete, and it’s not everything, but it’s everything to you at that moment?”

Killian nods, moving closer to her, brushing a stray snowflake out of her hair as the sky begins to open up making the everything around them feel a little bit more magical.

“Well, you’re my entire Christmas list and having you as a friend was the gift I was happy with. Just having you in my life was enough. From the time we were thirteen and you punched Robin for calling me a bitch, to the Grinch Binges, and junk food nights where we eat til we’re sick– I never wanted to give up any of it. I mean… 15 years of friendship...” Something in Killian’s eyes shifts and Emma starts to feel nerves rise through her body. She has to keep going before she chickens out again, “It’s not enough anymore.”

Killian looks like he’s about to apologize again, his eyes drooping in confusion, clearly not understanding her confession, “I’m sorry, Swan– I can try to be better– I know Milah she–”

“No, you idiot. I want more. I want the whole list. The entire Christmas list. All of it.” As Killian processes what she said, Emma stands there for what feels like eternity, heart more on her sleeve than it’s been her entire life. She’s about to speak again when he lunges forward into a kiss that can only be described as Christmas magic.

(Any other day she’d hate how cheesy that sounds, but right now her nerves are on overload and her lips feel like they’re on fire so she’s over it.)

They finally break and Killian rests his forehead on hers, cold from chill in the night air, “Swan, I’m s0r–”

“Killian Jones don’t you dare apologize.” He laughs and leans in for another kiss, this one softer but still affecting Emma just as much. They break again, and Emma feels Killian smile against her lips. She silently wonders if she’s too old to send a thank you note to Santa, or the universe, or whoever placed her right in this moment. Kissing her best friend is not where she thought she’d end the night, but now— in a crazy turn of events—it’s the only place she can imagine being. “Wanna head to my place, put on the Grinch, and make out a little?”

Killian laughs again before answering enthusiastically and taking her hand. “As you wish.”

And she does. As it turns out, Killian Jones satisfies every Christmas wish she has for the rest of her life. He also has the tendency to blast “All I Want for Christmas Is You” every year on their anniversary, even four years later when Emma knows for a fact the small onesie wrapped somewhere under the tree is sure to be Killian’s favorite Christmas present to date.

Even after opening the surprise gift, Killian assures Emma his favorite present will always be her, but when she hears him hum their song to little Hope in the middle of Spring she knows that’s not entirely true. (Still, Emma finds she doesn’t really mind.)

@mariakov81​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @pirateherokillian​ @teamhook​ @nikkiemms @bawley-bug​

#emma swan #killian jones #cs ff #cs au #Captain Swan #captain swan christmas #capthamm

[ciderxi]

She was supposed to be mine.  1

Title: She was supposed to be mine

Chapter- prologue + One

Pairing San x Reader X Yeosang

Word Count:1.8k

 Warnings: Mild Yandere in future chapters. Future mentions of abuse, smut, fluff, Jealous San and Yeosang, Love triangle

Starts off fluffy, gets dark towards further chapters. 

It had taken months for you to save just enough to not only buy concert tickets, but get tickets for the exclusive fanmeets as well. Months of practically turning yourself into a hermit just to save enough to see Yeosang in person. But it was finally the day. You started off by waking up in a panicked stupor, skin flush as you quickly examined your surroundings.

"Well that was..weird" You looked down at your stomach, rubbing the moody flab as you sat up in bed. You just had a really bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. As if it was trying, no, forcing you to stay in today. But that wasn't an option. You had the concert and fan meet today! There was no way in hell that you were going to miss that.

You quickly forced yourself out of bed, skipping breakfast, and immediately going to doll yourself up. Sure you didn't go all out of your makeup everyday, but today was special. You wanted to make sure to leave an impression on Yeosang, even if it was only for a minute.

~

Once you had gotten to the actual fanmeet, you stared at the endless line of people ahead of you. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't be long, you just need a drink after the concert. After all, all that screaming and singing along like a mad man left you parched. So there you were, already running late and still needing to use the bathroom. You mingled with other atiny's trying to get your mind off your bladder, but the endless laughter made things even worse. You had two choices, leave to the restroom, and lose your spot, or stay in line and risk pissing yourself in front of Ateez...

With that, you begrudgingly ran to the bathrooms. Taking a minute to adjust your hair and makeup before returning to the end of the line.

A long sigh left your lips are you resigned yourself to failure. Now it would be at least another half hour before you got to meet them, if at all. Knowing how busy their schedule was. You grumbled softly to yourself, letting yourself be distracted by the endless videos of Yeosang on your phone. That would at least take your mind off of the wait for now. Although not realizing it yourself,  two pair of eyes are watching her... a pair of eyes that'd she would only long for and fall head over heels for. Meanwhile the other pair is someone who she never thought would give her a passing glance. Unknowingly trapping herself in a sticky situation

While the rest of the members were busy with the last of their fans, San watched your oblivious figure almost hungrily, eyeing your every move. To him, you were perfect. Something almost ethereal in nature that he had yet to see before. Whatever it was, he had to have you

Unfortunately for him, she only had eyes for another, Kang Yeosang. All he had to do was make sure he got to her first, and he would make her forget all about Yeosang.

"Yo, San? Hellooo?" Mingi gently shook his band mate, shaking him out from his trance. He was too busy staring at you that he didn't even notice a fan sitting in front of him. He gave an embarrassed apology, then flashed the girl a smile, proceeding as if he wasn't just caught staring at someone.

It was finally time to meet your idols. You held tightly onto the album with one hand, and quickly adjusted your skirt with the other. Oh god I hope my makeup didn't run off. What if I have something on my face? WHAT IF THERE'S TOILET PAPER ON MY SH-

~

"Hi! I'm San, what's your name beautiful?"

You couldn't help but notice how intently his eyes were fixed on you. Man they weren't lying when they said they give you their full attention. You tried to hold back a smile as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Hi! I'm Y/N, what's your na- I mean uh" you kept tripping over your words and San just smiled back. He reached out to put his hand over yours, feeling almost intoxicated. "Did you want me to sign anything?" He asks sweetly, gesturing towards the album in your hand.

"Oh yeah.. Here" you flip to his page while trying to avoid saying something stupid

"Here" his eyes temporarily leave your gaze to face the album "Who's your bias Y/n?"

"Yeosang! He actually became my bias at first sight " with that one name San stopped writing for a moment. His smile slowly faded into a scowl "Oh..that's cool,Yeosang is really nice" he tried to force back a smile as he finished signing your album "It was nice to meet you Y/n, don't forget to read it~"

You couldn't help but have a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach, but wasn't sure if the feeling is something you should really worry about or not. Brushing it off as just nerves, you realize it's time to meet the next member so you gather your things. Your eyes immediately leaving from San's gaze.

Mingi noticed the way they reacted to each other, but he brushed it off, figuring that it was just another nervous fan. Although he wasn't the only one who noticed the way San looked at her.

You couldn't help but feel at home with the rest of the members, they were all so kind and seemed like a genuinely good people, cherishing each moment she spent having them sign her album. You couldn't help yourself but laugh at how they were basically all sharing Mingi's last brain cell.

As you reached Yeosang you both smiled at each other unsure who should make the first move. Making a bold move you started the conversation, "Hi.. my name is Y/n and you're my ultimate bias, I can't believe I'm actually getting to meet you." Stunned Yeosang was happy to hear that. He didn't get that many lines so he didn't think he had many fans. "I'm your bias, really? He asks excitedly, not being able to contain his smile. "Of course! You're so talented and sweet! I wish you had more lines"

Yeosang reached for your hand only wanting for the moment to stay like this, not wanting to let go of her hand. You blushed deeply, not expecting to ever get this close to your idol. "Will you sign my album?" you mumbled softly, too ecstatic to speak clearly. " Of course! Anything for you~"And he meant it, all he wanted to do was to get closer to you.

As you were both enjoying each others company, another pair of eyes were watching them, not happy with the sight before him. San watched as you finished your meet with Yeosang, your face that of a blushing bride.

"I won't let you take her away from me" he mumbled to himself

"What was that?" Mingi asked his friend "The fan meets over, why don't you go to one of the backstage rooms for a while? Were leaving in maybe about 2 hours"

San brought up a small smile as he nodded and headed backstage, but waited as he watched as you looked through your album.

"Meet me backstage Y/n, I'll be waiting~ " you rubbed your eyes for a second wondering if you just read that right. Was he joking? Maybe you had won a random contest you didn't know about. Oh well, what was the worst that could happen? You got up as everyone was leaving the fan meet, approaching the backstage as she saw a guard "Hi I'm-"

"Y/n L/n right?" you nodded "Follow me" the rather large man led you to the room, knocked on the door, and left.

San was standing behind the door, he was too excited. She actually came. He quickly opened the door and grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you in and closing the door behind you. Making sure no one saw them enter. Or so he thought.

"You wanted to see me?" you asked a little confused wondering if the other members are coming as well.

Looking around the room you didn't notice how close San was until you actually turned around, their skin so close to touching. Your breathing hitched as you felt his breath hit yours. "I-is there something on my face?". Your heart rate picked up,feeling her breathing becoming uneven. "You're just so beautiful"

San was so close to touching you, wanting to take your body and make you his, and only his. Just for a tease San slowly traced his fingers against your hand then up her arm, noticing the way you shuddered under his touch, but took it as a sign to proceed forward as you didn't step away from him.

San slowly wraps his hand behind your waist, snatching you close enough to smell the sweet perfume of your skin. Your breathing hitched as he inched closer, you like him of course...but you love Yeosang. But at the same time you couldn't deny the way he made you feel. As he inched his lips closer to yours, he could sense your hesitation. Urging him to press his lips against yours before you changed your mind.

Your eyes widened with surprise as you felt his tongue almost begging for entry. Against your better judgement you slowly opened your mouth, hoping to god that no one would walk in, he did lock the door right? In the midst of your thinking San continued to slide his hand lower, squeezing your ass. You let out a soft moan, encouraging him to take it a step further. Your arms roamed around his strong back, slightly digging your nails in, leaning further into the kiss, slowly becoming a moaning mess as you felt his fingers finding their way under your skirt. He briefly parted himself from the kiss, watching as your eyes fluttered back open. "Don't tease me San.."

"I just wanted to make sure you're enjoying this"

"Of course I am!" the neediness clearly showing through your voice.

He had you wrapped around his fingers, and he wasn't about to waste this opportunity. San pulled you close and back into the kiss, his fingers already taking a b-line to the hem of your skirt. Meanwhile making sure to leave a trail of hickeys along her neck.

San wasn't here to play, and neither were you. You lowered your hand to his, taking it and bringing it to your panties, giving him permission to explore. "San~ take me" you cooed under his touch.

San picks you up and places you in the corner, holding her ass as he slowly began thrusting against her "San!"

"Hey San we're about to lea-" Yeosang stopped in his tracks, his heart beginning to ache at the sight before him. The girl he liked, a moaning mess at the hands of his best friend.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez yeosang #ateez yandere #ateez san #Yeosang au #san au #San smut #yeosang smut #ateez love triangle #San x reader #yeosang x reader #Yeosang Yandere #San Yandere #Ateez au #kim hongjoong #Seonghwa #Yunho #Mingi #Jongho #Wooyoung #San #Yeosang #Ateez ff #Ateez smut #ateez smut au #Yeosang imagine

[putas-in-suffering]

Mmmmm, how about a brat tamer with bish, we know that man would gladly mark you up for misbehaving💅🏿

Sucias! We’re steadily working on some hoe ass content for you guys. We’ve got lots of original ideas that we’ve been playing with and we’ve also gone through some old requests in our inbox that hit that inspiration just right. Requests are still closed. But we didn’t think you’d mind if we went ahead and gave you all the smutty goodness. So we got a doozy here for all you Bishop freaks (it us). 

Read on to see just how Bishop gets his brat in line...

You pouted in your seat next to Bishop, impatiently waiting for him to finish his conversation so that you could go. A party was taking place around you. There wasn’t a special occasion. The boys didn't need one. The clubhouse was full of people and while you were normally down to partake in the night’s activities, an incident from earlier had turned your mood sour. 

It was about an hour after you’d arrived. The music was flowing, a cloud of smoke engulfing the room as everyone drank with enthusiasm. You’d stepped away to get a refill for Bishop on his beer when a woman you’d never seen before saddled up next to him. She was obviously new. Being El Presidente’s old lady meant that you’d seen every face that came through this place. Hang arounds and club girls. The ones who knew the rules and abided by them got to stay. The ones who didn’t got thrown out on their ass. It was the way of the MC world.

You had watched as she trailed her long hot pink nails over his arm, her eyes zeroing in on the President’s patch on his leather. She was eager and thirsty for clout. Desperate. And that vibe never lasted long with the men in the clubhouse. It was unattractive and incompatible for the lifestyle they led. A woman had to have her own shit when dealing with a Mayan. Their time was valuable. You couldn’t expect to have him at your every whim. Plus they all liked a little chase. Including your man. You may have been together for awhile, but you kept him on his toes and he loved it. You both got off on it.

Which is why you weren’t surprised to see Bishop brush her off and point her away from him. She’d looked crestfallen and you’d almost felt bad for her. You’d never questioned Bishop’s loyalty. But persistent women made your blood boil. They didn’t have respect for what was so clearly owned by another. There was a hierarchy and you were at the top when it came to the women of the club.

You were ready to let the whole thing go, pleased to see that your boyfriend wasn’t at all interested. But instead, the woman made one last ditch effort by grazing her fingertip over his bearded lips with a pathetic excuse for a seductive smile. 

You saw red.

Bishop yanked at her wrist and barked at the prospect to get the bitch out of there. His eyes had found yours, knowing you’d seen the whole thing. You knew better than to cause a scene. He was handling it. So you stayed rooted to your spot, cold and stoic as EZ hauled her out of the clubhouse.

Bishop came to you immediately and he could see the anger in your eyes. You assured him you were fine, but the party was over for you. He’d insisted you both stay, unwilling to let the moment be ruined.

That was forty-five minutes ago and you were still stewing. You’d tried to entice him into leaving, batting your lashes like you knew he loved. He’d brushed you off. The action made you seethe. Images of how he’d dismissed the bitch before made a sour taste settle onto your tongue. He was not about to ignore you like you were some whore.

You tried again, leaning into his side and whispering into his ear.

“Bishop...let’s go home, baby” You purred, letting your tongue gently caress the shell of his ear.

His brown eyes became dark, his mouth set into a firm line as he looked at you. His hand made its way to your thigh, gripping the flesh harshly.

“I told you. We’ll leave when I’m ready. So shut the fuck up and do as I say, querida.”

An icy chill ran down your spine. You sneered at him, letting him know you heard him but you weren’t at all happy about it. Something had him agitated tonight. And while you were used to dealing with a moody Bishop, you were not cool with being rejected like a random puta.

“Fuck you.”

His face became stone as he registered your words. You were both speaking in low tones, but the tension was obvious. You removed his hand from your thigh and stood, leaning forward to grab the car keys from the pocket of his leather. He didn’t move. He let you do as you pleased as you snatched the keys and walked away from him. You headed for the door, intent on leaving his ass behind.

The summer heat enveloped you as you made your way down the clubhouse steps outside and towards Bishop’s truck. You pressed the button to unlock it, watching as the lights lit up in response. You’d just gotten your hand on the driver’s side door when someone jerked you from behind. You were spun around and pushed against the the vehicle with a brute strength that let you know who it was immediately.

Bishop boxed you in with his arms as he pinned you with a glare. You matched his anger, unwilling to bow down to his dominance this time.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going? Huh?” He rasped as he gripped your chin and forced you to meet his now black eyes.

“Home. Like I said an hour ago.”

“You don’t disrespect me like that. You know better.” He bit back, fingers tightening their hold on your chin.

You winced against the pain and jerked away, pushing his body away from yours.

“I’m not doing this with you right now.”

You went to leave, but once again he stopped you. This time he dragged you by the arm to the back of the truck where the truck bed was open. The tailgate had been left down from unloading cases of beer earlier in the night. He forced you back, making the edge of the tailgate dig into your lower back.

“Is this about earlier? Is that what’s got you so fucking twisted up?”

His breath collided with yours as he loomed over you. He narrowed his eyes and you could see he was trying to read your face, searching for a motive.

“You think I like coming here and seeing some whore rub herself all over you like a bitch in heat? Do you think that’s fun for me, Obispo?”

He looked away, gaze taking in your surroundings to ensure no one was around. They weren’t. You were alone in the muggy night.

“I told you I was sorry. I threw her out. What else did you want me to do, huh?”

His tone softened ever so slightly, but his eyes were no less intense. You may be justified for your anger, but your disobedience wasn’t excused.

“How would you feel if I let one of the guys manhandle me? Let Angel squeeze my ass? Or let the prospect brush up against my chest? Would that be fun for you?”

With every word you spoke you could see the vein in his neck throb. His jaw clenched, his hands now balled into fists at his side. You were walking a very dangerous line. You knew that. But his reaction was giving you the pleasure you‘d been seeking. It was gratifying.

“I’ve seen the way some of them look at me. Maybe I should-,”

Bishop’s hand struck fast as he gripped your throat and applied pressure. It wasn’t enough to cut off your air supply, but it had the desired effect of silencing you.

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled out. He almost sounded more beast than man and your insides warmed at the thought.

Your body reacted to his anger instantly. Your nipples hardened despite the warm air of the evening. Your thighs twitched, your pussy already pulsing with need. The thrill of his anger and aggression made you wet instantly. It wasn't what you’d intended to happen. You’d been seriously upset and frustrated with Bishop. But your body knew him too well. And it was attuned to him by instinct rather than sheer will.

“You’re pushing your luck tonight, princesa.” He warned, his lips edging closer to yours. His free hand roughly cupped you through your jeans, forcing you onto your tiptoes. 

He could clearly see the reaction your body was having to him, and he was manipulating it to his liking. He got off on taming you. Just like you got off on rebelling against him. It was a demented tug of war that neither of you planned on losing. 

“You just love to act up, don’t you?” He crooned against your neck, bearded lips grazing over the sensitive skin. 

You shivered, unconsciously widening your legs for him to better maneuver against you. You pushed your chest out in invitation, daring him to touch you there. 

“I’m not the one who let a disrespectful cunt touch what's mine.” You retorted. The attitude was thick; the bite in your words apparent. 

He leaned back, lips quirked into a smirk at your brazenness. He was amused. And turned on judging by the hard muscle pressed against your stomach. 

“You know better than to doubt me. If I wanted whore pussy I’d have it. But instead, I put up with you.” 

His words and tone were ugly, but his body rubbed sensuously against yours. He thrust his hips into you, his hands now toying with the button on your jeans. 

“So, I’m gonna remind you of that, baby. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my fucking name.”

Your pussy contracted around nothing, so incredibly aroused by his words alone. You remained unmoving as he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, hands pushing the fabric down your legs. He pulled you in for a kiss, but immediately retracted when he felt the sting of your teeth bite at his lip.You smirked when he touched the appendage and a spot of red dotted the surface. 

“Fucking brat...” He cursed as he grabbed you by the back of your neck and nearly collided his face with yours. “Lick it off.” 

You stared at him with disdain, but did as he said. Your tongue licked the spot of blood from his bottom lip. The tang of iron hit your tongue and you savored the taste. 

In an instant you were forced away from him, facing the open bed of the truck. 

“Bend over.” 

You had no choice. His hand pushed you as he tore at your panties and exposed you to the open air. His belt clanged as he released himself from his dark denim confines. His cock rutted against your ass, the flesh seeking out the wet heat of your overflowing pussy. 

“Stick that ass out like I know you can.”

You lowered the upper half of your body, supporting yourself on your arms. The angle allowed your ass to meet his crotch, your glistening lips visible even in the darkness. 

“You talk a lot of shit for someone whose pussy stays wet for me.” He taunted as he rubbed the head of his cock at your entrance. 

You bit your lip to keep the moans at bay, both out of stubbornness and need for privacy. He teased you mercilessly. Dipping shallowly into your depths before retreating. You tried to follow his touch, but he kept you still.

“Say it.”

You knew what he wanted. And although you were fighting for control, it was obvious you were losing. So you gave in.

“Daddy...” 

He plunged into you in the next instance, hips flush with your ass. You attempted to grasp for purchase against the bed of the truck, but it was useless. Bishop’s hips set a punishing rhythm. Your body barely had time to clutch at him before he was pulling out. His grunts were like another set of hands, working you closer to that proverbial edge. 

“Fuck...” He groaned, letting his cock hit deep within you. He stayed still for a moment, feeling the hold your walls had on him. “Your pussy is tight. And just for me. Right, baby?”

“Yes...”

His calloused hands spread your ass, no doubt entranced by the way your body accepted him. He landed a harsh slap to your right cheek, enjoying the way your pussy squeezed him in response. 

“She wants to cum, querida. She knows who she belongs to.” He provoked, a finger sliding down between your bodies to assault your clit. 

The submission came naturally. Your body surrendered to his touch, your mouth unable to form words as the climax that’d been building finally swept over you. You could only squeeze your eyes shut and pray that Bishop held you up because your joints locked, your knees ready to give out at any moment. He fucked you through the chaos, continuing to work your clit as tears stung your eyes. 

“Shit, that feels good.” He praised as your pussy gripped him so tight you were afraid he’d become locked inside of you. His pace began to falter as he fucked you hard enough that the tailgate nearly cut into your skin. And you barely had a chance to come down from your high before he was experiencing his own. 

Warmth coated your insides as he filled you. His fingertips dug into your hips. His chest collapsed against your back. Ragged breaths filled your ear as he struggled to calm his racing heart. 

It felt like hours had passed, but in reality it had only been seconds. Bishop carefully moved off of you, hissing as he eased himself out of your sensitive walls. Despite your exhaustion, you pushed your backside up and out for him to  take in the sight of your overfilled cunt. 

“Jesus, I’ll never get tired of seeing this.” 

He ran a long finger down your slit, smearing the cum that had leaked from within. You jolted at his touch, still too sensitive. He pulled you up and around to face him, tapping your lips with his coated finger. You dutifully opened your mouth, sucking the mixture off of him. The savory sweet taste of you both exploded in your mouth. He caressed your cheek lovingly, the warmth seeping back into his eyes. 

“You know I love you.”

You nodded, too tired to argue anymore. 

“So don’t treat me like I don’t. Okay?”

“Okay.” You acquiesced, bending down to pull your jeans back up your legs. Your panties were torn and discarded nearby. There was no salvaging them. 

Bishop adjusted his own pants, buckling his belt back up as he watched you closely. You let him pull you in for a kiss, your mouths dancing against each other tenderly. 

“Let me tell the guys we’re heading out. And then we can go home.” 

You returned the smile he sent you and nodded, watching as he made his way back inside. You walked to the passenger side and got in. Your eyes caught the glow of the dashboard clock, triggered by the unlocking of the vehicle. It’d only taken you fifteen minutes to convince Bishop to take you home. Of course, he’ll see it as his idea. He’ll think he fucked you incompetent, but you knew better. You weren’t new at this game. If you wanted something, you had to set it in motion. And you’d done just that. 

At the sight of Bishop walking back down the steps, you smiled. He winked at you in return. 

Who says being a brat doesn’t pay off? 

Sucia Tag List:

@marvelmaree

@visintaes

@otomefromtheheart

@aquarius-smr-writing

@glimmerglittergirl

@arveeee

@fangirlingaesthetics

@maciiiofficial

@woahitslucyylu

@angelreyesgirl

@ifoundmyhappythought

@mheart27

@collegegirl83

@luna8819

@enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat

#bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fx

[plus-size-reader]

The Set Up

Robin Buckley x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1590 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Steve trying to set you and Robin up when he sees in you the video store

Inspired by this imagine by @myriadimagines whom I may be a little obsessed with. Check them out babes. 

——————————————————————————————————

Steve had been known to force Robin into situations she didn’t want to be in sometimes, mostly due to her introverted personality and his outgoing nature. 

However, it wasn’t until Steve saw you that he knew that he had to get to know you. Though, not on his own behalf.

You were exactly Robin’s type, something that Steve had learned since she came out to him that day in the bathroom. 

For all intensive purposes, the two of them were best friends and that meant that Steve thought it was his job to set her up. After all, of the two of them, King Steve had much more experience with the ladies. 

Experience that he was determined to get her to benefit from.

So, when you came in to rent the newest installment of Friday the 13th, Steve saw it as his opportunity to feel you out and talk up his best friend for all she was worth. 

This was his chance to get some information from you without being interrupted or scolded like a child for misbehaving. 

Luckily for him, Robin was doing inventory in the backroom or else Steve would have been in a world of hurt from her. She hated when he did things like this. 

“Can I help you find something?” he started, approaching you from behind one of the aisles, making you jump slightly at his sudden arrival. You hadn’t really been expecting someone to make conversation. 

Even so, you smiled. 

“Not really. I’m just looking around” you hummed, smiling at him as best you could. You had seen him around a few times when you stopped in but you’d never really spoken to each other. 

Though, now was as good a time as any. 

“Yeah, that’s good. That’s really good” he tried, ignoring how awkward he had made this whole thing. After all, his intentions had been there just fine but it wasn’t working out like he’d planned. 

“Well, my friend Robin likes to look around sometimes too. Maybe she could help you out?” he offered, grinning ear to ear as he looked at you. You had no idea what he was doing, but you couldn’t help but grin as well. 

Clearly, this guy had something he wanted from you beyond just wanting to help out. 

“Maybe” you allowed, recalling the blonde he was talking about. 

You had always found her very attractive of course, because you had eyes, but you were sure that she wouldn’t care for you. 

Surely someone as beautiful and interesting as her wouldn’t give you the time of day. 

If only you knew. 

“Yeah? She’s in the back. Let me go get her” Steve hummed, hyped up at the chance to actually get Robin a date. Flirting wasn’t really her strong suit and he just knew this would work out. 

...If she gave this whole thing a chance. 

Then before you could argue, Steve was gone from your side, practically skipping toward the backroom where she was currently and against your better judgment, you stayed put. 

“Guess what?” he sing-songed, not even bothering to announce himself to the woman in the room, shuffling thorough a new shipment of films. She was busy, but gave up on her task immediately. 

She knew Steve well enough to know that she wouldn’t be able to get anything done until he got whatever it was he was doing out of the way. 

He could be such a nuisance sometimes, but she couldn’t help but love him. 

“What is it?” she wondered, not liking the mood he’d brought into the space. She had no idea what he was doing, but knowing Steve, it could have been anything.

...But nothing could have ever prepared her for what came out of his mouth next. 

“I have a surprise for you” he beamed, tapping her a few times dramatically as he shuffling back and forth on his feet. He was so excited, but before he could continue with his antics, Robin urged him to get on with it, rolling her eyes. 

They had a job to do, though Robin was doing most of it at this point. 

“A surprise? Are you gonna take this over?” she teased, flinging one of the cases at him, which he caught shockingly even due to the close distance between them.

Usually his reflexes weren’t that good. 

“Nope, but you aren’t gonna care about that in a second” he assured, reaching out to take her wrist in his hand, yanking the smaller girl over to the door where he’d entered a few minutes ago. 

Through the small plastic window, you were still standing there, turning cases over and reading the summaries...waiting for her. 

“What did you do? How is this a surprise?” she asked, ignoring the heat that flooded her skin as she looked at you, looking as perfect as ever. If you happened to look up, you would have seen the two of them stalking you like freaks, and that was enough to make her panic. 

Though, Steve didn’t share in her concern of your opinion. 

He had seen the way that you reacted to the idea of getting to talk to Robin and he knew for a fact that the two of you would make the cutest couple anywhere. 

All he had to do was convince Robin of that simple fact. 

“She’s waiting for you” he grinned, bumping her slightly in the ribs with his elbow, proud of himself for making this happen. As far as he was concerned, Steve could take credit for any relationship that came from this.

After all, he knew that Robin would never talk to you on her own. 

“I hate you” she breathed out, no hesitation at all. She couldn’t stand that Steve put her in these positions, though, she would be lying if she said that she didn’t want to talk to you. 

She’d been admiring you from afar for a while, all things considered. 

“You love me” he grinned, shoving her toward the door more aggressively. You had been waiting for quite some time now and you needed help finding whatever film you were looking for. 

Who better to help you than Robin herself? 

“Get going, your lady awaits” he urged, getting her out of there as quickly as possible. Her future awaits, and there was no putting off destiny, or so he told her as dramatically as possible. 

...And as much as Robin didn’t want to, she decided to leave her friend there in favor of a long awaited conversation. 

Now, you had been waiting here for a little while but all desire to leave faded away as soon as you saw her approaching. 

“Hey, my dumb friend said you needed some help” she introduced, gesturing over her shoulder to where she knew he was, pressed against the door. There was no way he was going to miss getting to watch this. 

He had been waiting months for her to talk to you, and there was no chance he was just going to pass that up. After all, you seemed really interested in talking to her, so there was no way it was going to go south. 

Steve was confident in that. 

“Not really. I think he just wanted me to talk to you” you laughed, setting the case you’d been studying down on the shelf in favor of giving her all your attention. 

It was a fair assumption, but it nearly knocked Robin on her ass with how confident you sounded. She was practically fumbling around like an idiot through all of this, and you couldn’t have been cooler. 

How was she supposed to compete with that? You probably thought she was a total loser. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. He’s kind of a dingus” she laughed, glancing over her shoulder again when Steve was giving her a thumbs up. He really was just a dork. 

Not that you seemed to mind. 

“That’s okay. He’s got the right idea” you allowed, waving at him which immediately caused the brunette to sink down to the floor, out of view from either of you. 

Small talk wasn’t doing much for either of you, as you clearly both wanted to experience more with one another. However, you knew that what you were about to do was a long shot at best. 

Still, you knew that if you didn’t, you would always regret it. 

“Did you maybe want to get some food sometime?” you tried, rocking back and forth on your heels as the words left your lips. The zest in which you asked even shocked you but that wasn���t enough to make you regret it. 

You knew that it would all be worth it if she was willing to accompany you. 

...And of course she was. 

Robin had been waiting for an opportunity like this forever, and now that it was really happening, she practically had to pinch herself. This was really happening wasn’t it? 

“I get off a six, maybe we could grab something then” she suggested, trying her best to seem as chill as possible even though she practically felt ill with all the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

So, as calmly as you could, even with the hammering of your heart against your rib cage, you agreed to come back then and get some dinner. Then, you left, just in time to miss the epic fist bump between buds that Robin and Steve shared over the whole thing.

She had gotten the date, and you both had King Steve to thank for it. 

#robin buckley #robin buckley x ps reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x plus size reader #robin buckley imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things 3 #stranger things x ps reader #stranger things x plus size reader #stranger things imagine #st #st x reader #st x ps reader #st x plus size reader #st imagine #femslash

[skinsharpenedteeth]

No clue what to call this one...

It’s PunkRock!Michael and Emo!Alex AU that pretty much no one asked for. That being said, it’s for @litwitlady per our previous conversation about the subtle difference with punk and emo kids.  As a warning, it fluff n smut.

              The ground vibrated under Alex Manes bright red converse and he wondered if he’d be able to hear anything once this night was over. He’d found the furthest wall and decided to hold it up for the evening as he waited for Maria to get done with her one-woman-mission to fuck SOMEONE in this derelict house that operated as a “music venue”. All the rooms were lit with harsh yellow lighting, bereft of all but the most untrustworthy looking furniture, and there were dents and holes in walls all over the place. Alex was a little afraid the second floor would cave in at some point and he’d have to find out that people actually lived here.

Looking back up towards the corner of what was once considered the dining room of the house, he was happy to see that he couldn’t see Maria anymore. Maybe she’d gotten lucky faster than he’d figured she would and soon they’d be able to get out of here. But that might still take a while, so Alex slid down the wall and took out the book he’d been reading about the perks of being a wallflower. He noted someone coming to stand next to him in this periphery but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to engage anyone here and the bouncing of their leg by his shoulder made him sure they weren’t looking to engage him either since they seemed to be enjoying the band.

               When the band finally wound down, the figure that had been standing next to him practically fell onto the floor in a heap of legs and elbows. He turned to look and saw it was Michael Guerin, probably the most serious, mysterious, hard core punk kid at his school. His blonde curly hair had been streaked with green and slicked back from his face. He didn’t wear any make-up like some of the punk kids did or Alex himself for that matter. He had on a D.A.R.E. shirt with the sides and sleeves ripped off which showed off his lithe, strong body when he slumped forward. The shirt was tucked into tight black jeans with safety pinned holes up and down the legs. He wore the rattiest shit-kicker boots Alex had ever seen which were covered with patches, pins, and spikes. He’d left his spiked bracelets and collar that he’d worn at school at home for the evening and Alex felt like he was almost seeing him naked. Which wasn’t unwelcome because for all Michael Guerin’s faults, being unattractive was not among them.

              “Having fun?” Michael asked, looking over at him in between nodding and slapping hands with various people milling around in the crowd. The band was breaking down their gear and everyone was moving to other parts of the house or out into the yard between acts. Alex pursed his lips at him and went back to his book. He was sure he was just fucking with him. Michael Guerin didn’t make small talk. He mostly just stalked the halls and kept his head down in classes. Alex couldn’t look at him without rolling his eyes sometimes, he was such a cliché.

              “I, uh, don’t think I’ve seen you at many of these. Thought you liked fuckin’ Panic! At the Disco and shit…” he continued, sneaking looks over at Alex. Alex sighed through his nose loudly. Apparently, they were going to do this tonight.

              “I’m here with Maria,” Alex finally responded, still not looking up from the book he was frankly only pretending to read at this point.

              “Oh? I saw her leave with one of the guitarists from the first band. Was she your ride?” Michael asked, sounding nervous. Alex did look at him then, trying to see if he was just fucking with him or if he was being sincere. When he decided he couldn’t tell, he dug his phone out of his back pocket and saw a missed call and a text from Maria.

>Found something strange and hopefully wonderful. Won’t be back tonight.

              “God fucking damnit, Maria,” Alex exclaimed, almost throwing his phone in frustration.

              “So I guess that’s a yes?” Michael asked a little sheepishly.

              “This is why you never see me at these things. I don’t have a fucking car and my ride likes to fuck strangers and ends up deserting me. I fucking know better. Ugh, fucking Maria,” he raged. Michael watched him at it for a while. Meanwhile the other band had finished setting up and people were starting to filter back into the room. Alex looked around at the people and groaned, just wanting to leave and get out of here.

              “Hey, come on. Let’s go outside. It’s about to get loud,” Michael suggested, standing up and offering Alex his hand. Alex absently noted that his fingernails were painted, though the polish was cheap and had already chipped off in several places. At the first screech of feedback from the amps, Alex grabbed his hand and let Michael pull him up. He shoved the paperback into his back pocket and looked Guerin in the eyes, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest when their eyes met. He was a bit surprised when Michael didn’t immediately drop his hand, but instead held it while leading him through the dingy kitchen and out to the backyard area. A group of smokers hung around the door chatting and they called ‘Hey-o!’ in excitement when they saw Michael. He waved and grinned at them but kept tugging Alex with him until they were past the property line. Apparently, someone had found a couch on the side of the road and had moved it out into the undeveloped desert behind the house to stare out at the dark nothing beyond. When they reached the front of the couch Michael finally let go of his hand and flopped down on the cushions at one end with a sigh.

              “Uh, what are we doing?” Alex asked, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed them. He shuffled a little and stared down at the orange and white plaid couch dubiously.

              “We’re hanging out. Chill, sit down, enjoy the night with me. We’ll still be able to hear the band from here,” he added, patting the spot next to him.

              “Oh, goody,” Alex remarked sarcastically before sitting himself down on the cushion farthest from Michael’s. He still didn’t quite trust his intentions, but he was glad to be out of the house. They could, in fact, here the band still, but the lyrics were muffled and it almost sounded like the songs had a melody this far out.

              “So, what’s up with the finger bruises on your arm?” Michael asked, pointing towards where Alex’s shirt sleeves had ridden up when he’d finally sat down. “Girlfriend like to get a little rough?”

              “Uhh…. That would be pretty remarkable since I’m totally gay and you know it. Like, everyone knows it,” Alex accused, deflecting his question about the bruises. He didn’t want to talk about his problems with strangers. As hot as this guy was, he was still a stranger. Michael smiled widely at him.

              “I didn’t know if that was a rumor or what, man,” he replied easily, seeming to take Alex’s correction in stride. For some reason that threw Alex off. He’d been waiting for an attack.

              “Oh,” Alex said, feeling a little deflated, “Well, it’s not. I’m gay. Does that make you want to run back to the party? Afraid someone will see you out here with the emo faggot?”

              Michael’s smile fell and he looked a little insulted. Alex almost apologized, but he didn’t owe this punk anything and he kind of wanted to see how he reacted to some pushing. His tone was less congenial when he finally answered.

              “I don’t give a fuck who you’re into. Love is love. What I do want to know is who the fuck keeps bruising you up all the time? Those aren’t love taps I saw on your ribs the other day in the locker room and you don’t skate or play sports. Who’s fucking you up?”

              He sounded mad, indignant on behalf of a stranger. On behalf of Alex, who was not used anyone giving a shit about him. It was a new feeling for Alex to have someone pay that much attention to him and care that he was being hurt. But he couldn’t just say ‘My dad knocks me around because I crave cock and hate the military’ so he kept his mouth shut and Michael watched him stay silent, watched him tense up with his shoulders closer to his ears and wrap his arms around his body. He obviously wasn’t going to say anything so Michael tried a different tactic.

              “The foster family I’m with right now… they’re alright. But the family I was with before them? Fucking meth heads. And meth heads get mean when they’re coming down,” Michael said, turning and pulling his shirt over his head to show Alex his back. There were long thin grooves over the middle of his back and little round scars like burns. “Not all that is the meth heads. The long scars were from the religious zealots I got put with a couple years ago. Being exorcised isn’t fun, but the lead up was worse.”

              Alex stared at the skin in horrified fascination, moving closer to see them better in the faint light of the moon. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to trace along one of the scars with his fingers, but at the last minute came to his senses and brought his hand back.

              “That’s awful, Michael,” Alex whispered. Michael pulled his shirt back down and turned to him, a bittersweet smile on his face.

              “Well, it’s all healed over now. Right now, no ones hurting me. So, who’s hurting you? Are you getting bullied? I know that Valenti kid is a fucking homophobic piece of shit jock bully, but if he’s literally beating you up I will get my boys and we’ll tear his ass in two,” Michael threatened with passion. Alex looked at him, feeling his face soften at how serious Michael was.

              “You can’t defend me like that. Kyle’s a fucking jerk, but he’s not doing this. It’s..uh… It’s my dad. He’s the one hitting me,” Alex admitted quietly. Somewhere in the middle of his confession, he had started to find his own hands fascinating. So fascinating he couldn’t look up to see Michael’s expression over his confession, but instead just kept watching the way his skin pulled taut when he interlaced them and twisted one way or the other. One of Michael’s hands came into his view then and covered his own, stopping their anxious twisting. Alex froze and waited.  He didn’t know what reaction he was hoping for but he felt himself bracing for it.

              “Do you have somewhere to go to get away from him?” Michael asked, his voice now quiet next to Alex’s ear. The hand not on Alex’s came to rest between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing soothing circles through the cotton of his shirt. Alex felt his body relax a fraction, slumping a little as he realized he wasn’t about to be attacked.

              “Yeah, yeah. I have friends who will let me stay with them,” Alex managed to get out through the thickness in his throat.

              “Add me to that list,” Michael said. Alex’s head jerked up to look at him and he realized he was only a couple breaths away from him. “I’m serious. Add me to the list of people you can call if you need an out. I’ve got a truck, I’ll come get you. No questions asked, nothing owed.”

              “You don’t know me, Guerin,” Alex said in the stillness between them. He couldn’t stop his gaze from moving from his perfect hazel eyes down to his lips. He suddenly knew he wanted to kiss this guy. Whatever happened after was fine, but he wanted to do something reckless. Michael was pushing a long piece of hair back behind Alex’s ear and looking at him fondly and it made Alex’s gut clench with want.

              “Sometimes people do nice things without an expectations. It’s been known to happen,” he replied. Alex nodded and swallowed, suddenly filled with nerves again, though for a very different reason than before.

He saw Michael watching him, watching the way his eyes kept darting down to look at his lips, watching the way he mirrored licking them with his own. Slowly Michael leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pressed his lips against Alex’s. Alex was cupping his jaw and keeping him close before Michael could back away and end the kiss. Alex opened his lips, his tongue lickeding over Michael’s in a request and a question. This wasn’t Alex’s first kiss, but it was the first one he was adamant about pursuing further. Michael hummed deep in his throat and opened to Alex’s advances, letting him explore his mouth with his tongue before doing the same with his own. Alex felt breathless and elated. He didn’t care that the music in the background was hardcore punk being played so badly Syd Vicious would be rolling over in his grave. He didn’t care that he was kissing Michael on a dirty, half rotten couch out in the desert where anyone could see them and tell his father what he’d been doing with another boy. He didn’t care that Maria had left him to fend for himself so she could chase boys. This half-crazed make out session with Michael Guerin was making it the best night of his life so far.

              Maybe it was the lack of oxygen or the adrenaline of being seen by someone he’d never admitted to himself that he’d always been hyperaware of, but Alex couldn’t stop his hands from falling from Michael’s jaw and starting to grope at the skin exposed by the open sides of Michael’s shirt. In response, Michael turned his body and started to pull Alex until he was sitting straddled across his lap. Then it was Michael’s turn to slip his hands under the hem of Alex’s shirt and let his hands slide over the muscles of his back and waist. When it became too much, Alex finally broke their never-ending kiss to gasp air into his lungs. Michael didn’t miss a beat, his mouth attaching itself to Alex’s neck with sucking, stinging kisses that made Alex want to go crazy.

              “Fuck,” Alex groaned when he felt Michael’s fingers start to slip past the waist band of his jeans. It was so hot to feel him against his skin. It was too much, though, just too much with someone he’d really just been introduced to. “Wait, wait, wait! We gotta slow down…”

              Michael groaned and buried his head against Alex’s shoulder, hands immediately coming out from under his shirt and wrapping him up in a hug. Alex slowly withdrew his own hands, resting them on Michael’s shoulders while they both calmed down and regained their breath.

              “Sorry,” Michael murmured against his shirt before lifting his head and giving him a quick, close-mouthed kiss. “Sorry.”

              Alex smiled and laughed a little, rubbing his hands up and down Michael’s upper arms while he gathered himself. He was nervous about having stopped them, but he was still so fucking happy about what had happened.

              “It’s okay. All of that was okay, I just… Where did this come from? You don’t even know me, you’ve never talked to me at school or even, like, acknowledged my presence…” Alex said, eyes flickering over Michael’s face. He saw the way his expression went soft and slightly incredulous.

              “I may not know your favorite color, but I’ve wanted to kiss your emo eyeliner wearing ass since my first day at Roswell High. You’re always being so snarky and bratty to everyone and then when you’re with your friends? Your smile lights up the place and it’s so rare to see, but so fucking beautiful. It’s just… man, fuck school. Fuck those people. Fuck the kids, fuck the adults, fuck the institution. They’re answering just enough of the questions to keep us from asking more. It’s a fucking joke. I’m not in the right headspace at school. You’re about the only good thing about showing up every day. Just seeing you makes me hate humanity a little less.”

              Alex felt the heat of a blush infusing his face, but he also couldn’t stop smiling. This guy. This fucking guy.

              “Your,uh… your smile is pretty great too. I think tonight’s the first time I’ve even ever seen you smile,” Alex commented, his arms wrapping comfortably around Michael’s neck. Michael’s lips widened into a cheesy approximation of a smile that really just showed all his teeth with his lips pulled back while he crossed his eyes.

              “Oh my God, staaahhhp,” Alex said laughing at the stupid face. When Michael let his features relax back to normal, Alex darted in and kissed him. He meant for it to be one kiss, but it quickly turned into more as the heat which had been banked earlier, now came back to life with more energy.

              “Can we lay down? My legs are going to sleep,” Michael mumbled between kisses against Alex’s lips. Alex jumped and was about to scramble back and off his legs when he felt Michael’s hands under his butt and then he was being tilted backwards until his back rested against the cushions.

              “I shudder to think what’s on these pillows,” Alex grumbled even as he widened his legs and let Michael sink between them to rest his body against Alex’s. The weight and friction felt amazing. He suddenly didn’t care about the scratchy upholstery where his shirt at ridden up his back. He just wanted Michael’s mouth back on his and to keep feeling his body writhing on top of him.

              “You want to add to the mess?” Michael asked after breaking their kiss, raising an eyebrow and smiling mischievously. Alex looked at him confused for a moment and then his eyes followed Michael’s hand as it slid down to his own jeans, flicking the button open and leaving his hand on the zipper tongue. Alex’s eyes widened and he shot up to meet Michael in a kiss before glancing back down between them. It was so hot. He could tell Michael wasn’t wearing any underwear and his pants were almost painfully tight against his own body. “Alex?”

              “Fuck, yes. So much yes. All the yes. Enthusiastic conset given,” Alex babbled between kisses, his hands sliding down to start undoing his own jeans. Michael’s hand followed his, pushing his away so he could cup Alex through the black cotton of his boxer briefs. Alex felt like he could come just from that. His body was vibrating, breath caught in his throat as he gasped at the feeling of someone else’s hand so close to his own dick. He wanted to reciprocate. He wanted to touch Michael back so with shaky hands, he slowly pulled down Michael’s zipper and pushed aside the fabric of his pants. He felt the velvety skin against the back of his hand and then he pulled it out. Michael was uncircumcised. Alex felt like he knew this somewhere in his hind brain from talk or the locker room showers or something, but it was different when it was something you glanced while trying to hide as much of your own body as possible. Now it was thick and heavy in his hand. The foreskin moved in such a hypnotic way as Alex pulled and then pushed gently until he could see the wet, spongey head of Michael’s cock. It was giving him all sorts of scary, wonderful ideas of things he wanted to do and try that was definitely way too fast for a random hook up on a murder couch.

              “Does it freak you out?” Michael asked, voice a little breathy as he held still and let Alex play with him. Alex shook his head slowly, still watching his own hand as he jacked Michael’s cock, thumb swiping and spreading the precome over the head. Finally, Alex’s brain came back online and he looked up into Michael face. His eyes had closed and his mouth hung slightly slack. He looked like he was in pain, but he was enjoying every second of it. Alex didn’t stop his hand movements as he raised himself up enough to capture Michael’s bottom lip between his own. Immediately Michael responded, returning the kiss hungrily. His hand had stayed over Alex’s underwear, but now he pulled and tugged at the offending garment until he could get it far enough down to sit under Alex’s balls.

              “OOhhhhh my God,” Alex cried out as Michael’s hand finally grasped flesh and he was overwhelmed by the heat of his hand and the roughness of his skin.

              “You alright?” Michael asked, keeping his hand still to make sure Alex was still game. Alex nodded and sank back down against the sofa cushions. Michael was giving him a curious look from where he was holding himself up on one arm. Alex laughed a little and moved his hand to grip the back of Michael’s neck fondly.

              “That feels so much better when someone else is doing it,” Alex admitted a little shyly. Alex was afraid this was going to become a Conversation, but thankfully Michael just smiled softly at him and moved back down onto his forearm so he could kiss Alex while still having enough room between their bodies for their hands. Michael’s hand was a little dry on him, but he didn’t care. It still felt amazing and everytime their knuckles bumped against each other a zing of pleasure rocketed up his spine. He was doing this to someone else. Someone else was touching him. It was a-fucking-mazing. He started to feel a familiar tightness beginning in his core, his body winding itself tighter before it let go. He broke away from Michael’s mouth, panting and making pained little “Ah” sounds against his cheek.

              “Fuck, Michael, I’m about to—I’m going to—” he was trying to get out, even as his vision narrowed and his body became a singular being of exquisite pleasure. He felt Michael’s mouth cover his and then his own hand was wet as well. When it was over they laid there, panting against each other and then Michael tipped sideways to wall onto his side between Alex and the back of the couch.

              “Shit,” Michael said succinctly, cheek against Alex’s shoulder and breath still short. Alex just nodded and looked down at himself. There was come all over his shirt. His come, Michael’s come, marring the black in white, viscous stripes.

              “Shit,” he repeated after Michael, his voice less in awe now that it was time for clean up. Michael looked down at his shirt and honest to god giggled a little. He brought his come covered hand up and wiped it over a clean expanse of Alex’s tee.

              “Hey! I gotta wear this home!” Alex exclaimed, battling Michael’s hand away.

              “No you don’t. Follow me to my truck, I’ll let you borrow a shirt. This one is fucking toast,” Michael snickered. Alex looked down again and had to agree. Soon after, they tucked themselves back up into their jeans and got off the couch. Alex found himself a little wobbly after the high of an orgasm. Michael caught him with a hand on waist and kissed his cheek.

              “You get a little come drunk. Noted for next time.”

              “So there will be a next time?” Alex asked, suddenly finding he was nervous to hear the answer.

              “If you want there to be a next time, then yeah,” Michael said, holding out his hand to take Alex’s. Alex looked at it for a second and then up at Michael’s guileless face. He smiled then and reached his hand out to hold onto Michael’s. They slowly made their way around the outside of the house where the music was still rattling the glass panes left in the windows and out to the street where Michael had parked his truck. Alex stripped off his shirt and handed it off to Michael as Michael pawed through a backpack of clothes he kept under the passenger’s seat. Finally, he passed over a black Misfits shirt. When Alex put it on he noticed it smelled like rain, dust, and sage brush. It wasn’t a bad smell and in fact made him want to bury his nose in the collar to train it to memory. It was how Michael smelled and that wasn’t a bad thing.

              “Want a ride home?” Michael asked a little shyly as he tugged the bottom of his shirt on Alex’s body in some attempt to ‘straighten it’.

              “Sure,” Alex agreed, climbing in the passenger’s seat and buckling in. Michael closed his door for him and ran over to the driver’s side, climbing in and starting up the car. As soon as they were on the road, Alex slid his hand over the seat between them in a silent request for Michael to hold his hand. With a quick smile, Michael did.

#malex #malex fic #malex au #roswell nm #barely edited #no name #punkrock!michael querin and emo!alex manes #michael guerin #alex manes #high school au

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Hello 👋🏼, sorry if I’m bothering u but ever since the recent chapters of BNHA I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the Todoroki family. Not many of my friends are into this anime and I just couldn’t stop myself from sharing this with you because I need to let this out.

[SPOILER ALERT 🚨!!! IF U DONT READ THE MANGA THEN U CAN JUST IGNORE THIS]

First of all:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!

(I’m still screaming as I write because the backstories RUINED me.)

Poor Touya having this horrible obsession over heroics and having his father acknowledge him but ever since his quirk started reacting against his body the whole family got negatively affected by it.

Rei and Enji wanted to stop at two kids but with Touya’s sudden disadvantage and the latter’s craving for power, Natsuo and later on Shouto was born (the youngest getting titled as the perfect heir from the moment he was born). I got torn seeing Touya’s eyes succumb to absolute madness at the birth of his younger brothers.

What scared me the most was how when it was just Touya and Fuyumi, the two hardly interacted despite being only a year apart in age. Touya claimed that ‘girls just don’t get it’ this small foreshadowing was later brought to light in the most recent chapter where he once again rejects Fuyumi’s company in favour of ranting to only Natsuo and where he disregards his own mother— another ‘girl’ that doesn’t understand his obsession passion for surpassing All Might and someone who plays along to the acts of those stronger than them. Touya saw his mother as a weak person who had no choice but to marry for the sake of her family and have custom children. Little Touya firmly believed his very existence depended on getting acknowledged my his father and defeating All Might but it sadly didn’t come true😭😭

Also..... LOOK AT THE BABIES!!!! They’re all so CUTE!!!

Chubby Fuyumi!!!

Natsuo with a running nose

And Baby Shouto with a meme like face since the day he was born🤣🤣🤣🤣

So ADORABLE!

And another thing. FUYUMI WAS EVEN YOUNGER THAN I THOUGHT TO HAVE STARTED ACTING LIKE A SECOND MOTHER TO HER BROTHERS!! Look at the way she defended Natsuo when Touya went on a rampage and tried to attack Touya! And during moments when Enji and Rei fought the two most notable heroes were Shouto and Fuyumi; the former fighting on the frontlines to face his father while the latter stood behind to once again care for her remaining family that though weren’t involved in the fight, they still needed emotional support to get through it.😭

I AM SO SORRY TO BE GETTING TO THIS SO LATE ANON BUT I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY!!!

TW: Spoilers, Brief Mention of Child Abuse (Physical, Emotional and Mental), General Fandom Wank

So, like, SO MUCH HAPPENED in those chapters and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ALMOST ALL OF IT! There’s obviously all the things you mentioned above that were just amazing to see and learn! I know that a majority of the fandom has been absolutely livid about the reveals involving Touya being drastically different than what fandom thought they were all this time, but I think it honestly highlights how smart Horikoshi’s writing really is.

In Shoto, we see the effects of physical and mental abuse on a child, and how easily he could have ended up going down a troubling road much like Touya. Shoto’s saving grace is facing off against Deku in the Sports Festival, giving him an outside perspective and makes him realize that he can choose to be better, but that doesn’t just magically fix all of Shoto’s problems. Shoto still struggles with his feelings towards his Father and how he is perceived by simply being Endeavor’s son. We see that in the Provisional License Arc, where Shoto is so thoroughly rattled by Inasa. It’s even further pushed through how Shoto struggles with his feelings about Endeavor trying to better and whether or not he should forgive him. I feel like Shoto’s arc is incredibly strong and that his struggles are very realistic, which is why people love him so much. This whole concept is another thing I could rant about but I’m going to leave it here.

Meanwhile, with Touya, we see the effects of mental and emotional abuse on a child and how it can completely destroy them. I think people that act like Horokoshi “down played” and “ret-conned” Endeavor as a character to make him more sympathetic/ redeemable or that he’s simply writing Touya as “always being a bad seed” are missing the mark. This is, admittedly, something you see a lot when it comes to victims of abuse in the real world as well; the idea that if you weren’t physically or sexually abused on top of emotional or mental abuse, your abuse is somehow less “valid.” Now I’ve seen more voices speaking out against this mentality - which is relieving and positive - but it’s still a problem. The way Touya was abused is no less valid or scarring to himself as a person as what Shoto has been through was. Touya and Enji clearly had a deep bond as father and son. Hell, the fact that Enji is sobbing and saying he “can’t fight his own son” in regards to Touya, but clearly had less issue training Shoto until he got ill or passed out says a lot.

Touya was put on an incredibly high pedestal by Enji’s constant praise and attention. He was the apple of his father’s eye until the limitations of his Quirk were discovered. Enji had filled his head with promises and goals for what his future would be, essentially selling him what turned out to be a lie. We see Rei herself tell Enji that Touya “knows you expect something out of the kids.” Touya’s whole life up until that point was being told of all the great he would someday accomplish, and equating that to being deserving of his Father’s love, attention and affection.

And then he couldn’t live up to that expectation. And then his parents had two more kids following that revelation. The idea that Touya doesn’t realize that Natsuo and Shoto were meant to be his replacements - unbroken models that “deserved” Enji’s love - is clearly not missed by him. It’s evident in the way he looks at Natsuo after he’s born. He sees this as a sign that he is no longer deserving - no longer worthy - of love or support from the parent he absolutely adores.

We see this mostly from Enji and Rei’s perspectives, so we know the reasons they did it, but it’s clear they didn’t stop to think about the way this would be interpreted by Touya himself. This whole matter is only worsened by the fact that Enji refuses to make sacrifices for the sake of his oldest son. He pushes Touya to live a life outside of Pro Heroics while Enji himself refuses to do the same, thus setting a positive example and showing solidarity with his son. He instead pushes him away and distances himself, loses himself in focusing on Natuso and, once his Quirk turns out to not be what he wants, Shoto. Touya continues to push himself despite his limits in a desperate bid for Enji to look at him the way he used to; with pride and love. 

What caused the fire that “killed” Touya? His anguish over being neglected and abandoned - left unloved - by his father yet again. It’s clear that Touya’s mental health is in need of some real focus that he has never gotten - due to both his parents negligence as well as the fact that mental health is highly stigmatized in Japanese society - and pairing that with the emotional and mental abuse he suffered at Enji’s hands broke him.

So many people are claiming Horikoshi is trying to make Enji “more redeemable”, but how do you get that? Enji abused Rei, his own wife, physically and emotionally and mentally until she had a psychotic breakdown, hurt their youngest child, and then robbed her the right to mother her children further by having her locked up in a psych ward for the next decade or so; built their oldest son, Touya, up only to then emotionally and mentally abuse him to the point he damn near killed himself in a frantic bid to garner Enji’s support only to return years later completely unhinged and looking to murder his entire family out of spite; neglected Fuyumi and Natsuo to the care of each other and hired help; alienated Shoto, his youngest son, from his siblings for his entire formative years, physically and mentally and emotionally abused him, groomed him to accomplish a task he never wanted, put him through such extensive physical training that Shoto would get sick or pass out.

Enji was a shitty father. He has a long ass road to continue walking if he ever wants redemption. The fact he didn't physically hit Touya doesn’t mean that Enji didn’t abuse his son and it doesn’t make Touya any less of a victim.

* End TodoFam Rant*

On a slightly lighter note, I also like all the information with Hawks’ past and all the parallels we’re seeing develop!

I’ve rambled briefly about this in other places the Huwumi discord but I want to expound upon this a bit more here.

I feel like Touya/ Dabi and Keigo/ Hawks are meant to be parallels to one another.

Back to back, we had proper name claims by these two characters. We had Dabi reveal his true identity as Todoroki Touya and then we have Hawks choosing to abandon his hero name to instead step up to fight as Takami Keigo.

I feel like “Dabi” was always a mask, of sorts. Dabi is typically pretty calm, cool, composed with the occasional bites of snark and cruelty. Meanwhile, we see Touya emoting and moving in a manner more akin to himself as a child, dancing about in manic delight over revealing his true identity and intentions. The pair of them are two drastically different people when you stop and look at it. “Dabi” was the mask he wore to gain ground to enact his revenge, and now that he is there? Now Touya can burn everything tethered to it down to ground.

Meanwhile, we have "Hawks” as he was forced to become as per the Hero Public Safety Commission. We had it revealed quite a while back that Hawks was a man of many faces, jumping from laid-back and chill to serious and focused quite frequently. “Hawks” is the presentation for the public and the Commission, groomed to be the perfect little canary in the mine that was Pro Heroics. The reveal of his true heritage, however, is not the killing blow Touya wanted it to be. Instead, it allows Keigo, the one who wanted to be a Hero to help people, the chance to truly dedicate himself to that. In being freed from the cage of “Hawks”, he is given the change to really soar as Keigo.

Now, I feel that “Dabi” and “Hawks” are most certainly parts of Touya and Keigo as well, respectively. Even though those titles were masks, they were masks made from parts of the men who wear them. I think what we’ll see going forward is the true elements of those masks bleeding back into the whole, and seeing the truest forms of each character.

For better or for worse. 

#crumbles grumbles #half baked headcanons #Wow I haven't busted that tag out in fuckin forever #Might have to do more headcanon posts about BNHA #If any of yall wanna read me ramble about that stuff? #BNHA Spoilers