#they should exist without having to have one of those moments... yeah

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna be your sin

for @subeddieweek day five with the prompts rimming and possessive steve

rated e | 2,473 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr Day four: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

If being friends with Steve was easy, being loved by him was a piece of cake.

It would probably scare someone else, the way Steve loved. He gave everything, more than what Eddie felt he deserved. It was overwhelming at times, to be the focal point of all of Steve’s affection.

He showed up at Eddie’s house with flowers before their first date. And their second. And for their third, he brought him homemade cookies.

Fucking homemade cookies.

And every single time, he acted like it brightened his day to be able to provide these things to Eddie. Like if he couldn’t bring him flowers or cookies or kiss him or hold him, he’d crumble into a million pieces and cease to exist.

It was easy to love him back, too.

To play with his fingers in the car and lean his head on his shoulder, to get lost in the time they spent together until Wayne was opening the door to the trailer with his knowing smile and wave as Steve just waved back from his spot on the couch holding Eddie’s hand.

They weren’t stupid, though.

Their dates were usually places where two young guys could be caught hanging out without drawing suspicion, even if those two guys happened to be Eddie and Steve. If it wasn’t the diner or the bowling alley, or even the record store Steve had taken him to on their first date, they were in secret hiding spots around Hawkins, spending every moment they could giving in to temptation.

But sometimes they ventured outside their comfort zone.

Steve was Dustin’s chauffeur from Hellfire Club since his mom’s promotion that led her to working much later during the week.

They hadn’t exactly told anyone about what they were to each other, had barely even mentioned they were friends to anyone other than Robin, but Steve was insistent that no one would think anything if he just…hung out during Hellfire.

Eddie didn’t really have the heart to tell him that every single person in the room would be highly suspicious of anyone being allowed to stay and watch as Eddie had always been incredibly protective of their space and never let anyone watch who wasn’t inducted into Hellfire.

Steve sat in the corner of the room, only receiving a few concerned looks from the group at first. Most of the confusion was directed at Eddie.

When they took their usual five minute bathroom break, Gareth pulled him aside and questioned him.

“Dude. The hell.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Harrington? I know he’s Dustin’s second mom or whatever, but is it really necessary for him to be here? Doesn’t he have a job or something?” Gareth glanced over at Steve, who was looking back at both of them with a fire in his eyes.

Eddie ignored the way that look made him feel and crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow at Gareth.

“Isn’t the point of Hellfire to welcome the lost sheep? No judgment?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And wouldn’t you think it rude to assume Steve doesn’t deserve to have some friends?”

“But he-”

“Everything okay over here?” Steve’s voice was right next to Eddie’s ear, and his hand was on his hip, squeezing.

Eddie’s mouth snapped closed, eyes widening as he watched Gareth’s gaze drop to where Steve was touching him and back up to Eddie’s face.

“Yeah, man. Just checking in on our friend, here,” Gareth gave Steve a fake smile before turning and walking away.

Steve’s hand didn’t drop and Eddie was certain that if he didn’t move in the next 10 seconds, they’d have a lot of explaining to do that Steve probably wasn’t ready for.

“Was he bothering you?” Steve asked, his face a mask of friendliness.

“Gareth? My best friend for three years? He always bothers me, but it’s nothing like that.” Eddie tapped Steve’s hand as a reminder that he should probably move it, but he just tightened his grip. “Um, you okay?”

Steve’s breath was warm against his jaw as he leaned in close to whisper in Eddie’s ear. “I’m great, sweet boy.”

The reaction was instant. And really fucking inconvenient.

Hearing those words from Steve now, when he still had an hour of a campaign to run, with children making their way back to the table, was enough to make him call it all off.

Fuck Hellfire. He needed Steve to fuck him.

Steve patted his ass twice before walking away, smiling to himself as he went back to his seat to watch Eddie deal with this sudden need to have Steve.

And then he just…carried on. Like it was nothing to have Steve’s hand on him one minute, his voice against his ear, and then go back to being the big, bad DM the next. He was a pretty good actor, but even he had his limits when Steve’s eyes were on him.

Even he could tell he was a little off after the break, and the knowing looks from Gareth and confused looks from the rest of them just emphasized how much he needed to get his shit together. This was his best campaign ever, and he knew he needed to roll into Christmas break with a cliffhanger that made everyone desperate to get back.

Steve watched the clock, then looked at Eddie, watching him fondly, but with a certain hunger in his eyes that was nowhere near appropriate for others to see.

“And as you crawl your way under the fence, mud and sweat coating your skin, you see a faint light coming towards you from a distance. Your entire group freezes and waits to see if you’ve been found. You breathe slowly, just enough to not pass out. The light gets closer.” Eddie stands from his chair, leaning over the table to blow out the candle. “The candle goes out. A voice yells down to you. ‘Come at once or die.’”

Eddie sits back in his chair and folds his hand across his stomach, waiting for the table to catch up that he was done.

“That can’t be it!” Lucas yelled.

“Eddie, you said you weren’t gonna end it on a cliffhanger!” Mike pouted.

“I never said such a thing and if I ever did, you should’ve known I was lying.” Eddie stood again, folding his DM notes up and picking up his personal minifigures to store in his bag. “We’ll pick up the first week back in the new year. Everyone go home and enjoy Christmas because there’s a chance some of you may perish on your journey here.”

Everyone grumbled except for Gareth, who was oddly quiet as they all cleaned up their own character sheets and minifigures. He kept glancing between Steve and Eddie, brows furrowed, like if he concentrated hard enough, something would make more sense to him.

Steve stood as the older kids filed out, driving themselves home or hitching rides with each other. Nancy was already outside waiting for Mike and Lucas, so they rushed out of the room, barely saying goodbye.

Dustin didn’t seem to notice or care that Steve and Eddie were staring at each other, that Eddie’s hands were practically shaking with anticipation for what was coming. Hopefully, he would be.

“Oh, mom told me to tell you that she made extra of that casserole you like so you can bring some back home with you when you drop me off,” he said as he finished packing up his bag.

“Sounds good, dude,” Steve said, not taking his eyes from Eddie.

Eddie could feel his face flushing, wondered how he could get Steve out of there before he did something stupid like kiss him in front of their shared child.

“You guys gonna kill each other or make out?” Dustin asked, not really looking at either of them, standing by the door to leave. “If you’re done, I have a curfew to make whether my mom’s home or not.”

Steve tossed Dustin his keys. “Wait for me. I’ll just be a minute. And I’ll know if you try to start her. Passenger seat only.”

Dustin knew better than to argue when it came to Steve’s car, so he nodded once and booked it from the room.

The moment they heard the main door to the auditorium slam shut, Steve was on him, pushing him back in his seat and looming over him with a deadly smile.

Eddie’s cock was straining against his jeans, rubbing against the zipper in a way that felt too good for him to be in public, especially when he knew Steve wasn’t gonna do anything about it.

“Unbutton your pants.”

Steve’s tone was cool, but Eddie knew him well enough to hear how much he was struggling to maintain composure.

What had he done to make Steve want him like this? Now?

“Here?” Eddie asked, looking around the room.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw and turned it back to face him.

“Here.”

Eddie knew when to be a brat and now was not it.

He unbuttoned his pants with shaking hands, letting his cock feel a single moment of relief before Steve’s grip around it was rough, nearly too hard to feel good.

“Pull them down.”

“Steve-”

“Now. Unless you wanna stop. You know what to say if you do.”

Obviously, Eddie wasn’t going to stop. He trusted Steve, he trusted that Steve would never put him in any danger, and if Steve felt safe enough to do this here and now, then Eddie could let him have what he needed.

Eddie tugged his pants and boxers down to his thighs. He ignored the twinge in his back at the uncomfortable angle, focusing on Steve’s eyes on him, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watched Eddie fumble.

“Turn around. On your knees.”

Eddie turned around, got on his knees.

“Lean forward.”

Eddie leaned forward.

Steve dropped to his knees and gripped Eddie’s hips. His nose brushed against the tail of his spine, breath leaving pinpricks of moisture behind. Or was that sweat? Had it gotten hotter in here?

“What if Dustin comes back in?”

“He won’t. He never has free access to my car.” Steve’s lips brushed against his skin, and Eddie realized just before it happened what Steve’s plan was.

Steve’s tongue trailed down the crack of his ass, hot and wet, spit mixing with the beginnings of sweat from his two hours of excitement. He’d showered that morning, but that morning was a long time ago.

He tried not to tense his body or pull away, but Steve noticed everything.

“Eds, color.” Steve was giving him enough space to think, to concentrate on an answer. They weren’t really playing in that space, but it was an easy way for Eddie to figure out if he actually wanted to keep going regardless of them taking on their roles or him floating into space.

“Um. Yellow,” he admitted quietly. He so rarely said anything besides green, and usually only when he was incredibly overwhelmed, so Steve immediately stood up and walked in front of him.

“What’s got you worried, love?” Steve cupped his face in his hands, making him forget momentarily that his bare ass was out for anyone to walk in and see.

“I’m not really clean? And, um, I don’t really know if I can get off with just that in only a few minutes,” Eddie didn’t break eye contact. He knew Steve liked when he looked at him while he talked through this stuff. It made him proud.

“Oh, sweet boy. I don’t need you to smell like roses to wanna get my mouth all over you,” Steve kissed his forehead. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can continue it later once you’ve showered. Or not at all. But I will say I had no intention of getting you off here.”

“But. You were gonna eat me out?”

“Yeah for a couple minutes. Get you worked up. Remind you that you belong to me, that you’re mine no matter who else gets to share your time.”

Steve was going to torture him, then. Why was that making him sweat more?

“You’re mine, baby. I get to make you feel good because it’s my job to take care of you.”

“Green.”

“Relax, sweet boy. I’ve got you.”

Eddie knew he did, so he let his forehead fall, resting against his arms folded over the back of his fake throne. There was something to be said about being worshiped here, something about being on his knees while holding all the power, but he was already too distracted by Steve’s hands pulling his cheeks apart to lick at his entrance to care.

Steve was good with his mouth and it was all too easy to get lost in the feeling of his tongue circling him, pushing past his rim every few swipes and making him rush to stifle a moan.

Just when Eddie started to feel like he needed a hand on him, Steve’s tongue disappeared.

Eddie shivered.

Steve’s hand ran up and down his back, but no other touch came, no words of comfort.

Eddie could hear rolling thunder in the distance and remembered Wayne saying something about getting home before it was supposed to storm tonight.

Might be too late for that now.

He could blame Steve.

Steve pulled his hand away and tugged his pants up for him, nearly knocking him over in his haste to get them in place and buttoned.

“Be good for me, sweet boy. I want you to finish up here and get home before it starts raining. I’ll be there when I drop Dustin off to take care of you,” Steve kissed his temple and started walking away.

“Wait!” Eddie got off the chair and rushed over to Steve, doing his best to ignore the wet, slippery feeling that Steve left behind. “Wayne’s gonna be home by midnight. You won’t be long?”

Steve shook his head, coming back to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Just gotta run in and make sure he heats up his dinner or he’ll forget. I’ll head straight over after that. Promise.”

Eddie nodded and watched as Steve walked out the door.

Thunder rolled again, still far enough away for him to be able to get to his van and get home.

He rushed through shutting off the lights, only leaving the security light on for the janitor when they got there first thing in the morning, throwing his bag over his shoulder and running to his van.

It was dark, but Eddie could still see the heavy clouds rolling in.

He unlocked his van, hopped into the driver’s seat, and turned the key.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Raindrops fell on the windshield and Eddie felt like crying.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #possessive steve harrington

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

#manifesting #law of assumption #sucess story #loa success #loa blog #loassumption #neville goddard #self concept #nondualism #void state #state of the wish fullfilled

[bitchlessdino]

I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.

so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.

until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say

Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”

You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”

The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”

“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”

“I’m hearing a no…”

“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”

“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”

“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”

Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”

“What makes you roommate of the year?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”

Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”

“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”

“The buttons and colors confuse me.”

“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”

“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.

“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.

“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”

Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”

You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”

You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).

But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.

And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.

The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?

“A few ground rules should be in order.”

Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”

“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”

“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”

You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”

Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”

“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”

His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”

“Why are you doubting me?”

He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“

“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”

His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”

“Okay. Have at it.”

He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”

You nodded, easy enough.

“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”

Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”

“And we have a safe word.”

You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”

“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”

You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”

“…Tiger.”

“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”

“Because we’re good friends.”

“How about ‘hamster’?”

He frowned. “No.”

“But look how effective that was.”

For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.

The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.

Even to you. Surprising enough.

If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 

The damn pull up bar.

You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—

“Oh, early class?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 

His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”

“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”

“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.

“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”

“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You squinted at him, “Why?”

“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”

Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.

So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.

One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.

“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”

“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.

He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”

You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”

He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”

“Fineee…”

Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.

“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.

You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”

You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”

“Soonyoung…”

“Please, just do it.”

Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”

He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”

“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.

“Sorry.”

He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”

And you’re alone again.

You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.

You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 

Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.

But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.

Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”

You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”

“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.

“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“

“You’re gonna make me cum—“

“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“

“Shit—“

“Shit—“

Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.

Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.

The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung—“

“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”

An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.

He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 

He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.

“Wake up.”

Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”

It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”

Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.

“Plans today?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”

The silence couldn’t be more deafening.

“You.”

“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.

The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?

After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?

You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 

When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”

“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”

“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”

“Alright.”

“Did you need something?”

“Hmm?”

You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”

“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”

Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”

“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”

He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“

“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”

“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“

“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”

You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“

“You knew I was masturbating?”

“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”

“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”

You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”

“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”

Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”

Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”

“Soonyoung—“

“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“

You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”

Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.

“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“May I remind you, you kissed me.”

“And I can back out right this second.”

“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”

“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”

He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”

Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he was you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he would just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.

Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to yours, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”

“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”

You nodded. “Good boy.”

He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.

You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”

“Soonyoung…”

He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”

“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.

“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”

“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.

“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”

Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 

You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”

“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”

“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.

“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”

You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 

Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.

That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”

You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”

He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”

Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—

“Put it in me.”

“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.

“Soonyoung,” You whined.

Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”

His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”

“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”

“Fuck, say my name like that again.”

He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 

“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”

You bit into his cheeks nodding, in the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 

Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.

And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.

“I’m glad I waited for that.”

You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”

He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”

“Really?”

He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”

Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”

That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.

#svthub #seventeen smut #hoshi smut #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung smut #hoshi #kwon soonyoung smut #svt hoshi #seventeen #seventeen hoshi #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n

[eddywoww]

Listen

Steve as a frat boy who would obviously clearly very much never look at another boy and he has a crush on this girl who’s bi and Robin is like yeah I don’t think you’re her type at all but Steve is Steve and he keeps trying to charm her and it isn’t working, so he’s like hey Robin can I please come to your queer alliance meeting bc she’s gonna be there and I want to show her I’m an ally

And Robin is like I Don’t Think That’s What Being An Ally Is, Steve. With the blandest look on her face but she lets him come with her anyway because she thinks it could be entertaining and god knows watching Steve strike out is FUNNY

so Steve goes to a little introduction night for new members with her and he meets the “board” and their president is this like, guy. This guy who is unfortunately pretty in a way that Steve isn’t used to. And he wears all these rings and eyeliner and he’s so loud and boisterous and funny and Steve can see the girl HE likes watching THIS fucking guy and he just deflates because like yeah, of course. Of course Steve isn’t interesting enough here at college. He’s just like every other frat guy in existence and he doesn’t even know how to step out of his carefully constructed comfort zone

Cut to Steve holding a grudge against Eddie but still coming to events. Standing around with his arms crossed, all grumpy and pissed off because the girl he likes won’t even look at him and of course she’s always watching Eddie because everyone is always watching Eddie

And then one day Eddie confronts him but it’s not actually a confrontation. He just walks up to him at a party and goes “You know I’m gay, right? Like gay-gay. Like very into men, not into *insert girls name here*” and Steve is stunned and doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything. No. He panics and runs out of the party and avoids Eddie for an entire week.

A week of over thinking. Because Eddie is gay. Which shouldn’t be shocking but Steve hadn’t been paying attention at their intros, he’d been too distracted by the stupid eyeliner. Which should have been an indication in the first place, really. He starts thinking about Eddie and then he can’t stop thinking about Eddie.

Until Robin invites Steve out to a nightclub and she’s being shady about it but Steve doesn’t even ask because he’s too stressed about his own thoughts to even realize but then he gets to her dorm and several people are there and one of those people is Eddie and he’s getting ready, laughing with all these girls and- and he offers to put eyeliner on Steve. Gets him up on the tiny bathroom counter with the door closed, the girls listening to music and shouting just beyond. And Eddie makes him stay very still, pencils the eyeliners on with gentle hands. Smiling at Steve, close enough to smell his cologne.

“Didn’t think you’d go for this,” Eddie says, quirking the funniest smile at Steve. It feels like a challenge, so-

“I’m very adventurous,” Steve says without thinking. Eyes blinking open a moment later to Eddie smirking at him. “That’s not- I didn’t mean-“

“Oh no, go on. How adventurous are you, Stevie?” Eddie asks, recapping his pencil. “Adventurous enough to stop being weird around me?”

“I’m not weird around you,” Is what Steve chooses to say. With all the air of a cornered animal, panicking for zero reason. Eddie raises an eyebrow and Steve deflates. “I’m not. You just- you intimidate me. That’s all.”

Eddie looks surprised, shocked maybe.

“And why’s that?” He asks. And it sucks because then Steve starts spilling his guts out to Eddie, right there in Robins tiny bathroom.

“You’re just- you’re confident and you wear these clothes that I don’t think I could ever get away with and everyone listens to you and watches you and flocks to you and I’m kind of just, like. Here, you know? Like I’m not as bright as you. A lot of people aren’t as bright as you.”

Eddie watches Steve for a beat. Really stares into his fucking soul.

“That’s stupid,” He says, smiling smaller now as he leans both hands in next to Steve’s hips. As he pushes into his space and doesn’t let up. “You’re so bright. It’s almost blinding. I’ve just been waiting for you to actually talk to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks quietly because yeah, he can’t think. Eddie is too close. He’s right there, leaning into Steve.

He mutters, “Yeah.” And finally kisses him. As it turns out, Steve wasn’t that interested in that girl at all.

#blurbs #my fic

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

You know, I get that not all Starkid fans have chosen to make the leap over to join the Tin Can fam as well. A lot of the newer Hatchetfield fans in particular are just here for that one particular tiny town in Michigan. And that's fine! Like what you like! Fandom how you want! Still, I would like to say two things:

1) Now is the perfect time to give all the awesome stuff TCB has to offer a chance, and

2) Starkid, and therefore our beloved Hatchetfield, owe so much specially and specifically to Joey, Corey, AND Brian.

Obviously Joey is one of the main Faces of Hatchetfield and his performances as Ted, Wilbur, Pete, Ethan, and Dan are all so iconic and beloved. Seriously, can you imagine Ted being as watchable in the hands of someone else? He’s also done great work in so many other Starkid projects.

Meanwhile Corey has been so vital behind the scenes. He designed the iconic sets for TGWDLM and Black Friday (the mind-blowing moment when the set BECOMES Wiggly? That was HIM)! Over the years this man has designed most of the sets, he has directed (VHSCC! ❤️), he has assistant directed, he has overseen social media and massive kickstarters, he has produced. As one of Starkid’s main behind-the-scenes creatives, Corey has done a huge amount of the extremely vital but not particularly fun or flashy work. His job is traditionally a pretty thankless one and we should pour gratitude in his direction.

And Brian. He gave us the Award-winning sound design for TGWDLM, but also I personally think he is one of the main actors responsible for Starkid existing the way it does. This whole company and fandom all go back to AVPM, that lightning-in-a-bottle show that was so strangely magnetic we’ve been able to build everything else on top of it. I’ve seen a lot of Potter parodies over the years, and I genuinely believe that the number one factor that gave AVPM its unparalleled magic was the Voldemort and Quirrell storyline. Without Quirrellmort, I’m not sure AVPM would have taken off as it did, and it’s quite likely Starkid would never have existed. And Brian, as Quirrel, was essential to pulling off and selling that extraordinary bit of plot.

So, yeah, even if you’re only a Starkid fan, or even just a Hatchetfield fan, you’ve benefitted massively from the tireless work Joey, Corey, and Brian have put into those things we love. If you can, giving even 3 or 4 bucks to their Tinlightenment kickstarter would be a lovely way to say “thanks” for bringing us fifteen years of Starkid magic and especially that Tiny Town of Hatchetfield.

TLDR; The Tin Can Bros have all specially and specifically contributed to the existence of Hatchetfield and Starkid as a company, and, if you can, giving to their kickstarter is a great way for Starkid fans, even those who don’t follow TCB, to say thanks!😊

#tin can brothers #npmd #starkid #nerdy prudes must die #npmd spoilers #hatchetfield #tin can bros #tgwdlm #Joey richter #Brian Rosenthal #corey lubowich #AVPM #quirrellmort #tinlightenment

[siredtoyourlips]

You should look at yourself ~ Fred.W x Fem!Reader

Summary: An eventful morning leaves you vulnerable, covered in paint, and speechless but what leaves you even more speachless is the words that come out of your ex's mouth. Do you believe him or hate him? ( find out)

Warnings: smut but not detailed just mostly readers thoughts, a little angst, humiliation, crying ( barely), drama, eating out, lots and lots of kissing, p-in-v, swearing, moaning, use if the word God, body kissing, fred is very hot, not a warning but kinda is sweet!fred, rumors, lying and more:)

900 words;)

Ps: left the ending where I could make a part two so like tell me if you would want that.

Fred Weasley, You heard of him before. Hot, flirty, prankster, twin, hot. Your ex. Didn't end on the greatest tearms. You got word that he cheated and broke up with him. Then after that you found out that he didn't but it was too late. The rumors were out that he was sleeping around, and not being serious.

Since the night you didn't talk to him but you see him around and staring but never thought anything of it because you thought it was hate or anger. You had him in Snape's class and he always sat a row next to you.

You've never been a victim of his pranks even though his own siblings have, and his friends and even strangers and teachers.

Here you are now on the way into his class, late. You had an accident while cleaning you picked up the paint and got it all over you. You had to take a shower and change your clothes and now you're going to be late.

You see that Snape's not there yet and go to walk in and all of a sudden paint gets thrown all over you again. Everyone looked at you, they knew who did it and who it was for. Some were laughing, some were gasping, but you just walked away, ran actually. It was the most embarrassing moment of your life.

You wanted to curl up in a ball, to stop existing, to never see any of those people again. So you ran to your dorm, leaving a trail of red paint from the classroom to your dorm room.

Not even minute later you hear a bang at your door. Assuming it's one of your friends you open it, but the only person you see is him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment. You go to slam the door in his face but he stops you and barges in the room.

" Please Y/n, just listen to me". He said and before you can get a word in he says "it wasn't for you, it was for Snape, he's been such an arse lately and I thought he deserved it. I never thought it would have been you walking through the door, I thought you were skipping not late. I'm so sorry. Please let me make it up to you" all in one breath. You didn't know what to say, so all that came out was "ok" and you walked to the bathroom and he followed.

"Fred, what do you want? I said ok, I believe you. You can go now" you spat. But he didn't leave instead he wiped some of the paint off of your lips and kissed you. He kissed you so hard that you almost fell into the tub. But he cought you and put his clean forehead Against yours.

"Fred". You started but before you could finish he said " it's not true, I would never. I love you more than anything, I would do anything for you. You are the love of my life. I am nothing without you. The rumors were just that, rumors not true". You just smiled at him and said " you got paint on you" his laughing filled up the room " me?" He asked " you should look at yourself" be says while kissing you. "You want to take a shower with me?" You ask. " I mean since you asked" and then be turned on the water and you both got undressed and stepped into the water.

He instantly started cleaning your arms and back and hair while you cleaned your face. Every chance he got, he kissed you. He washed and washed until you both were all clean. Then he turned the water off and walked you out while kissing you. He walked to the bed and laying you down. "This okay baby?". God, you thought he's so hot " mhm, yeah" and he started kissing you from your neck to your brests, to your stomach which was always his favorite part of tour body, down to your thighs and finally to your core.

And God, was he good at making you feel good. It's been months since he's touched you and you've been craving him, his kiss, his tougne, his finger, but especially his cock. And he knew what you wanted by the way you were looking at him, and the way you were acting. And he gave it to you. And it felt so good.

"Shit" he mumbled " Oh my god" you moaned and what felt like the next hour went like that. It was so good, and you came so many times that you forgot about everything else.

All your worries, all your cares just disappeared like before. Before you let all the rumors get to your head, before you left him, before everything went to shit. And when you finally came down from your high he was there, it wasn't a dream it was real. He was real. And he was hot.

" you ok?" He asked and you just smiled and nodded while laying on his shoulder. And everything was perfect. Until you heard a bunch of voices and realized you never but a silencing charm on the dorm and you both looked at eachother and mumbled "fuck".

#smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader

[coconutdays]

drunk

s. my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. obviously there will be other parts hehe

w.c. 3.4k

w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) I also didn't really proofread this, did this as my day went. also y/n’a cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, thought it would be cool

You're restless.

The soft bedsheets encircling you do nothing to soothe your itchy skin. there's pillows thrown everywhere across your room in hopes that less pillows mean more sleep. Your legs and arms have been sprawled in different angles and directions to try and cater to your sleep, but it's all useless--your head won't let you get a wink of rest.

Your heart rate rises the moment you feel any sort of sleep try to overcome you. It beats furiously to take away your breath and forces you to jump up for relief before your eyes close for those oh so peaceful hours you yearn for.

It's annoying,

Like satoru gojo.

And there you feel that annoying flutter in your heart again.

This was not how he was supposed to keep you up at night.

no, what--

fuck fuck fuck fuck

You flip onto your stomach, fisting at the bedsheets and screaming into the mattress, your body movement similar to that of a fish out of water.

it came out of nowhere one day, that itch for him.

He had popped up during one of your missions, mid-battle, might you add. He was seated in a tree, watching you do your work, adding witty commentary on the fight every now and then while he mostly talked about his plans for dinner. Whether feta cheese would be healthier than greek yogurt or if squid really tasted different than octopus.

It was offensive to your opponent--a quite special grade curse--that Gojo never deemed it necessary to enter the confines of your shared arena and even further when you started responding back to your white haired friend.

"Why don't you just leave that up to your chef, Satoru."

Unbeknownst to you, you were listening to him not looking, he smirked when the sentence left your mouth.

"Yeah, but I feel like making the decisions over my palette today. Feeling frisky, y'know?"

He always says stuff like that, it's been one of his trademarks for as long as you've known him, but for some reason it had your face heating up as you pulverized your special grade out of existence with one closing of your fist.

You had turned around after the fact, trying your best in those milliseconds to get rid of that random feverish symptoms before he popped up behind you.

Lo and behold, he's right next to you before you can speak again.

He's wearing his uniform, along with his ever so interesting choice of headwear, his blindfold. He towers over you, effortlessly, with his hands in his pockets and that stupid light lipped smile he always has.

You almost want to take a step back when those mere details cause your heart to race. It's extremely off-putting to you when it happens.

"Or should I just tell my chef to go ahead and make that wagyu steak he set aside for me yesterday? It's supposed to taste divine with some wine." He cocks his head to side, smile growing a bit wider.

You give him half-assed eye roll, resorting to flicking his forehead when you respond, "Completely up to you Chosen On-."

He had grabbed you by the wrist of the arm you used to poke at him, lifting up over your head and towards him, pulling you a little to him in the aftermath of the action.

"But that's why I'm asking you." He fake sighs, "I'm asking my friend for advice."

You in return, actually sigh, "If you let go of me, I'll tell you what to eat."

You should've told him to eat-

stop.

why why why why why why why why why

You've known him for so long without this feeling grabbing and pulling at you. It's so bothersome when you're alone, the temptation to reach out to him and send him a text for a singular smidge of interaction with him is debilitating.

And it's a whole other beast when you can interact with him.

The god-strength you pull off to act as if you don't want to hold hands with him and listen to him talk all day is exhausting.

Because it has to fade away soon right?

When you get up after failing to get a satisfactory amount of sleep that morning, there's a text from your anti-melatonin on your phone.

Satoru

you want some croissants?

And before you can even think of a response, your doorbell rings.

Classic.

You run to the door as you hastily put on your robe, the pajamas underneath are not something you'd want him to see you in.

One peek through the peephole and you see his silky white hair standing up, it makes you open the door without hesitance.

"Oh, " He smirks, a brown fancy bag in hand, "who kept you up?"

Gojo is wearing at the moment one of his slutty long sleeves, the ones where his collarbones and shoulders make an appearance, along with those shaded in glasses of his.

This time you actually do give him a good roll of your eyes and chuck the bag out of his grasp, "Nobody. I just didn't sleep well."

He follows behind you as you walk into your apartment and to your dining table.

"That'll explain the eyes. Then why the skimpy pjs?"

You jump up a little, rushing to flatten your robe near your ass.

"How did you see?!"

"I didn't, just a little guess is all."

The urge to kick him in the shins seems more appealing than your everlasting urge to kiss him the moment he blabbers that.

You siphon two plates from your cupboards with a small movement of your hand and set them on the table, all with an annoyed look on your face.

"You can start eating, I'm going to change so my privacy isn't invaded by you again." You huff, stomping all the way to your bedroom.

"Won't start without ya." Satoru chides, leaning back in the chair he was in.

He did, in fact, see your ass peeking out from your robe, the little twirl you did after you took the bag from him lifted the skirt of it up a little. It was just enough to see a bit of lace clinging to your skin. It was a pretty color on you.

But he wanted to save you the embarrassment and stray away from the acknowledgment between the both of you that he's seen you like that, even if it was a smidge of-

You were naked.

Not directly in front of him, no, you'd never do that.

Your door was slightly ajar, but even though it was behind him, the mirror across from him and within his line of sight was all exposing of you.

You were topless, your back completely bare to him as you hauled up your jeans and buttoned them up.

He stopped breathing and felt something get stuck in his throat.

The entirety of skin felt like it was on fire, from his scalp to the pads of his toes. You should have completely closed your door. he can't help but stare until he drags his eyes away from the sight.

He won't even allow himself to touch the thoughts or feelings again, forcing himself to look out the window instead of through the mirror while he waits for you to change.

"What kind of croissants did you get?"

You're walking across the room and starting towards the seat next to him.

"Chocolate and pistachio." He exhales through a smile, as if he'd been thinking of something else before you asked him.

"But you like almond better." You cock your head to the side in curiosity as you start to open the bag. Chocolate and pistachio were only your favorites, and although he could eat them, you knew he loved his almond croissants.

"What can I say, I felt like switching it up today." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and laying his head on them before he took the croissant you were offering him.

You gulped down the bite you had just taken and proceeded to ask him another question.

"So what brought you to be near my place?"

You wish you could see beyond his glasses when he turns his head to you and shrugs, "Looking for buildings with adequate cursed spirits for my students. Thought I'd pass by and get breakfast with you on my way."

"Yeah thanks for the heads up." You grumble a little, a little smile and a shake of your head following up.

"Wanna come with?" He speaks through a mouthful of croissant

You start to snark a little, "Do my job without any pay? Sounds like-"

"I'll get you lunch from the onigiri place you said was only for special occasions and then dinner at the restaurant you said had entrees pricier than your electricity bill." He smiled

You blinked up at him, it being cute to him a fact that he chose to brush over by waving his card in front of you, "Being the Chosen One has its benefits."

Which is why you found yourself walking through Tokyo with Satoru the entire day.

You'll admit, you wanted to say yes even if there were no financial benefits to it. He was a benefit enough, time with him was, but it wasn't within your best interest of hiding your feelings to say yes without missing a beat.

On the other hand, it hurt a little, to know you'd be spending the entire day with someone who makes your heart flutter and your eyes unable of holding eye contact. It hurt more that you knew the time together with him would strengthen the feelings your heart held for him.

Fuck it though. At least you get to be with him today.

He let you walk a bit in front of him the moment the both of you left the apartment. It was his best bet of keeping his eyes on you, knowing you were there with him in the swarm of people as opposed to the alternative of receiving that reassurance through the warmth of your hand on his. His six eyes do prevent any mishaps either way, but the domesticity of it was calming for him.

But your back was to him.

It gave him flashback thoughts to this morning, your body practically bare to him, the underwear you had on leaving little to the imagination.

He had to force his heart to beat normally.

"Hey Satoru, that building over there has loads of cursed energy. Wanna check it out."

"Yeah." He smiles nonchalantly, making sure his eyes only look at the top of your head and nothing else.

Both of you don't even need to enter the building when you get in front of it. A simple lift of Satoru's shades and he smiles knowingly.

"Now that one's gonna be fun for Makki."

"Yea?"

"Absolutely." He confirms confidently, placing the frames over his eyes again.

After marking down the address of the building, the two of you proceeded to look around for more spots within the city. And not that either of you two knew, but Satoru was scaring off every male within a 20 feet radius during the time spent looking. His eyes were hidden by the specs perched on his nose, but the animosity of an aura he held towards any ogling eyes at you were enough to frighten them off.

He wasn't aware of it, if it weren't any obvious to him after doing it countless other times while hanging out with you. Had he been self aware, he would've muted that part of his feelings too. If any, it gave him more peace. He didn't know it gave him peace, but what he was sure of was that the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up if a guy came up to you.

You, on the other hand, couldn't really notice when you only cared about the guy walking right behind you. All other eyes were white noise to you.

To the eyes of those around you, the both of you looked like any other couple walking around Tokyo together. Satoru was never a step too far behind you and followed you as you walked without never looking back, as if you knew he'd never leave your side as you guided the path.

But you weren't a couple, you were just friends.

The former statement needing a reminder when dinner came around.

Your waiter had just taken down both of your orders at the dimly lit restaurant Satoru had mentioned in the morning. It was on the top floor of a skyscraper and the sun had just set, setting a slightly tense ambience for you--and Satoru, but he couldn't confront that thought for himself. Satoru was very good at remaining neutral for his own benefit.

"Ah and what wine will you and the missus be enjoying tonight?"

Oh

"Giacomo Conterno Monfortino please." Gojo smiled politely as he closed his menu and picked up yours to hand it to the waiter.

Right.

It was a simple mistake of an assumption from the waiter, it didn't need the attention of either of you. You had to tell yourself that.

"You like this place so far?" Satoru asks with a cocky smile, leaning forward and resting his head on his palm.

"It's beautiful." You say stifling a small smile, "worth all my hard work today."

For a second, Gojo takes a small second too long to respond to you. He seems stuck in a thought during that time before he acts like he normally does.

"Definitely. I could tell you were about to break out in a sweat when you checked if Zara had any cursed spirits in their clothes after my eyes said otherwise."

"Sometimes flukes happen. I thought you knew that." You raised your hands up in defense, winking at him in the process.

His breath hitched milliseconds within you doing that and he started to say something when-

"And here is your Giacomo Conterno Monfortino."

Your waiter had come around with the wine Gojo ordered, serving it in both of your glasses before leaving the bottle there for the both of you to serve yourselves again if necessary.

You took a sip immediately after the waiter left and gestured the glass at Satoru, "You should take a sip, it's really good. But what were you going to say?"

Satoru leaned back in his seat, making it look as classy as possible considering the status of the restaurant you were in, and cradled the glass to his chest.

"Nothing really. Just banter."

After taking two sips, Gojo didn't care to drink anymore. He called for a glass of water when your dishes came around. It was nothing new to you, he wasn't much of a drinker. Being the strongest meant never saving space for vulnerability and the inhibitions of the drink would subdue his abilities to being low quality.

You, however, had already been two glasses in by the time you had finished your small bowl of soup and started cutting your steak into bite sized pieces.

"Someone's hungry." A teasing voice poked at you

You looked up from your chewing on the steak while cutting up another piece to eat and made eye contact with bright blue irises, lips curving upwards beneath them.

"And drunk."

You sat up straight in your seat, having accidentally been hunched over to devour your food. Unfortunately the quick movement cause your head to spin a little.

You couldn't say you weren't drunk, when in fact you were.

"I didn't think it through when I served myself that second glass." You lightly groaned, looking at the ceiling because looking at the former would make the wine further bring you down. Satoru's eyes would make the dizziness worse and get rid of all your inhibitions.

You had to calm yourself down.

"Why didn't you stop me?" You tried to deadpan at him when you gathered enough courage to face him again.

Tried.

You did deadpan at him, but it felt as if someone dipped your face in flames the moment he kept the eye contact with you.

"I wasn't going to tell you what to do." He shrugged, haughtily putting a bite of his chicken into his mouth.

"Ass." You murmur as you sadly take another bite of your steak.

It didn't take much longer for that second glass of wine to hit you even further. Satoru had asked the waiter for some water for you too after expressing your distress for him not stopping you any sooner, so you weren't going to get any worse--too much. Both of you had been quiet, more so you, the alcohol had made you oddly focus on finishing your dinner, until the waiter brought around the dessert.

It was a shared bowl of some fancy peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream, two spoons on either sides for either of you to take.

"This is huge Toru."

"What?"

"This is huge. I don't know if I'll be able to even eat half. You were right about the steak being too much earlier." You pouted, gathering a spoonful of peach cobbler and ice cream to feed yourself before you looked at Satoru with the biggest doe eyes he's seen from you.

He stares at you while getting his own spoonful.

"I'll help you. And even if we don't finish we could probably ask to take it to go, they probably have small coolers for something like this."

"Yea and then they'll think we're dating or married or something. Like a couple saving it to eat together later."

"Come again?"

You were slouched in your seat, trying your best to keep eating. The alcohol obviously lowering your guard both physically and mentally.

"When the waiter called me missus." Your lips curving downwards

"It doesn't matter if they think we're dating." He reassures, concentrated on swirling around his piece of peach and ice cream too much "It's just to go."

There were no worries in finishing the peach cobbler and ice cream you soon found out. Gojo, although not drunk, ate the dessert as if he was intoxicated. You stared at him throughout all of it, admiring how cute he looked even though he shared the same appearance you did when you stress ate.

The only worry that existed after, was the walk to your apartment. You two were obviously safe, more so you, it was Satoru Gojo walking you home after all, but it didn't mean that the space between you two was.

You hugged his arm to you the moment you felt a slight gust of wind. An action you didn't overanalyze because you weren't really thinking much at all. You knew you had feelings for him, but he didn't and clinging onto his arm because you were cold wouldn't let him know that. At least drunk you was simple enough to think that way. Had sober you been here, she would have flung you away from him.

He hadn't done or said anything to let you know it bothered him the entire walk to your place. He was oddly calm, not to say that he never was, he was always calm, but witty about it. He wasn't being witty right now. He only really spoke to tell you to watch your step when needed and to answer your question on how much time there was left to get to your place.

When you got to your apartment, you easily swiped your key card on the door and unlocked it.

"Thank you, Satoru." You gave him a close lipped smile with sleepy eyes.

"It's what I'm here for." He answers without a thought, shrugging like its second nature to be this nonchalant.

"Yeah?"

The second Satoru looks back to you after letting his eyes wander to your lips, your eyes look different.

"What." He breathes.

You keep looking at him, as if you hadn't heard him. Your only response being your breathing.

He steps forward without knowing, subconsciously trying to close the space between you. It's when he's about to lean into you that you speak up again, taking a step back.

"I think it's time for me to sleep." You bite your lip awkwardly, looking between the wall behind him and his eyes because the thought of enduring his gaze on you for more than two seconds was agonizing.

"Right." He straightens up

"I'll see you later." Your eyes get watery from holding back a small yawn, "Have a good night Satoru."

"Sleep well y/n"

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo slowburn #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru x reader

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

After pizza—and after El wakes up and eats her own pizza—everyone gathers around again to listen to Steve and Robin. “So I think by now we’ve proven we’re from the future,” Steve says. “We’re here, four years in the past, because a lot of bad things happen, and if we can, we’d like to stop those things from happening. The big one, and really the recurring problem, is a guy named Henry Creel who essentially took control of an alternate plane of existence we call the Upside Down.” He motions El over beside him, and she goes gladly, tucking her feet up onto the couch as she leans into his side, trusting him to hold her up. He does, sliding a protective arm around her shoulders as he says, “He’s also One.”

He watches as one by one the lightbulbs come on. “Oh, shit,” Dustin whispers, and Steve doesn’t even call him on it, just nods.

“Beyond Henry, though, there are creatures in the Upside Down that can and will kill you.” He rolls his eyes fondly at the boys. “For some inexplicable reason, you came up the names, so they’re called demogorgons, demodogs, and demobats. Demogorgons are what took Barb and Will, but they both got away. That doesn’t mean they’re safe, though. Like El said earlier, Barb was safe in the moment, but it’s still a very dangerous place. There are vines everywhere that are connected to a hive mind. You step on one, and Henry knows you’re there.”

He continues telling the story, Robin interrupting when there’s a detail he misses. It’s silent when they finish. Finally, El speaks up. “So, it is… my fault?”

“No, El,” Steve says softly. “None of this is your fault. Things out of your control happened that made you who you are. Those same things created all of this.”

El frowns. “So I am bad? Like One? Like the Upside Down?”

“No,” Mike says sharply. “You’re good, El.”

“He’s right,” Steve murmurs. “You made yourself good.” He pokes her arm teasingly, and she smiles, leaning back into him.

Steve looks around, catches Nancy’s eye, and sighs. “Nance? A word?”

“Steve?” Robin asks.

He shakes his head. “I’ll yell if I need you,” he promises, rubbing her head as he passes. She squawks and bats his hand away.

“Asshole,” she mutters, and he laughs as he disappears down the hallway, Nancy in tow.

They end up in a room Steve thinks was meant to be a study. “You have questions.”

“Understatement of the century. There’s just one that’s really bugging me, though.”

“Us?”

“Yeah.”

Steve sighs and leans against the wall. “On Halloween, Tina throws a party. We didn’t know what we do now, about the Upside Down, and you were still looking for her. I was an asshole, self-centered and unhelpful.” He blows out a breath, crosses his arms, and looks away. “You got drunk, called me, and my love for you, bullshit. Left. I tried to talk to you the next day at school about it and you couldn’t say you loved me. I was still hopeful. I’m a romantic at heart, y’know? I thought maybe if I could be everything you needed, if I changed enough, if, if, if…” he shakes his head. “So we stayed together. I tried. You slept with Jonathan Byers, then broke up with me.”

Nancy looks horrified. “Steve-”

He shakes his head. “I made my peace with it. And maybe this makes me an asshole, I dunno, but Nance, I can’t go back. We’re okay, we’re friends, but I can’t pretend I still have feelings for you. I’m sorry, but we both know I was just convenient for you.”

Nancy takes a breath. “So that’s it?”

Steve shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I tried and got my heart broken for it. I moved on, found someone I think I can really be happy with, without changing who I am. And for the record? It gets rocky for a second, but I think you and Byers are it, too.” He smirks. “Plus Mike likes him better than me.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Oh, well, if Mike likes him better…” they both laugh, and she looks at him. “No more feelings?”

He shakes his head. “We make much better friends.”

Nancy grins lopsidedly. “And Robin?”

Steve snorts. “Purely platonic, I promise. Neither of us want anything else with each other.”

Nancy looks at him then. Studies him. “You’ve been through some shit,” she decides. “But you look happy.”

He smiles. “I am, for the most part. I know who I am.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #nancy wheeler #past stancy #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eleven #Steve and eleven #yallll this one. this one was hard to write #please believe me Steve does NOT hate Nancy #he’s not even really upset anymore #but he’s GROWN and MATURED and knows he can’t do it anymore #he’s making such a mature decision!!!! #also no Nancy is not okay but she’ll deal in her own way #Steve knowing who he is can be something so personal TO ME- #like listen. he didn’t know who he was for a LONG time #which means he let himself be whoever anyone else needed #which is NOT healthy #he’s doing SO MUCH BETTER now #I love him #starambles

[bethelighthalazia]

Ruined everything!

Summary:  Jealousy takes the better of your boyfriend and the stress of the last days just makes him say things he regrets.

Genre: angst (?), fluff (?)

Pairing: bf!Hongjoong X fem!reader

Word Count:  604

Warnings: none

[note: It's just a little drabble, but i saw this gif and it just gave me this tiny bit idea which i just had to write down ^^’]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Laughing, you stood aside with Seonghwa, who was taking his break from shooting. You had brought coffee for everyone and waited with him for all the others to take their break too, although when Hongjoong comes up to you, he already looks a bit moody. It doesn't stop you from holding his coffee towards him with a smile.

“Hey Joong, here's your coffee. Seonghwa said you didn't have one y-” Before you could finish your sentence though, one of the members accidentally bumps against you while talking to the others and causes you to drop Hongjoong's coffee. Unfortunately, it spills onto his outfit. You tried to catch the cup and when you look up into his face, you actually wince, his expression more than angry.

“Great, y/n! Now I have to get changed and the staff has even more work!” Hongjoong huffs out, grabbing the tissues from your hand harshly before you hurry to get more tissues. “Hongjoong, it's fine, the stain is not as big, we can fix it.” Seonghwa tries to calm the captain, but for some reason, this seems to anger him just even more. “Yeah, of course you stand up for her, huh? How about you take her then? Don't need a stupid girlfriend who ruins everything all the time!”

These words feel like a slap in your face and the moment Hongjoong turns and sees you standing there, he feels horrible for saying it. Of course he loves you, but the day had stressed him so much, he lost his patience and let it out on you. “Y/n, I-” He started, but cut himself off, noticing the tears that had appeared in your eyes. 

You didn't want to hear it, your week already had been shit and now your boyfriend says this? Before anyone could react, you throw the tissues at him and turn around, leaving the set, running. It just had to happen someday, Hongjoong is an idol and you are just a normal girl, so why should one like him love you?

It didn't take long for your phone to blow up, the boys asking you to come back and that your boyfriend didn't mean it. When Hongjoong called, you declined the call and turned off your phone for now. If he truly wanted to find you,he knew where you would go. The only place, you always felt safe and comfortable, even though without him, it felt cold.

Hours went by, you had curled up on the chair in his studio, and when Hongjoong entered it, you had fallen asleep from crying. When he saw you there, his heart stopped for a moment, thankful that you didn't leave completely. Carefully, he laid a blanket over you before sending the boys a text, letting them know that he found you. 

“Y/n…I'm so sorry for what I said. I never meant it…” He whispered, his fingers gently caressing your temple, then he carefully lifted you out of the chair to settle down on the little sofa with you in his arms. “D- don't leave me, joongie…” Your voice was quiet and sleepy as you shuffled in his arms without waking up, bringing a sad smile to Hongjoong's lips. 

“I would never leave you, y/nnie…I love you too much for that. You are my best friend, my muse, my treasure. And I'm so sorry for hurting you with my words. I swear, this will never happen again.” He whispered, followed by endless quiet apologies until the captain also fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you in fear of losing you because of his stupid words.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kat writes <3 #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong

[ruskaroma]

Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really. 

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

#john constantine #john constantine x reader #john constantine x you #john constantine x y/n #john constantine imagine #john constantine smut #john constantine fanfic #john constantine fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves imagine #my works #constantine

[twst-drabbles]

Lilia 11

Summary: You two were alone by the fire. The Lilia you knew was rather playful in his flirtations. This younger Lilia was more… aggressive? To the point? Either way, he put himself on your lap with a glare.

(More time travel shenanigans. This is the only thing my brain wants right now, so may as well indulge.)

"I'm surprised you still come here," you said, poking a log deeper into the fire, "You just had a victory over some invading humans. Shouldn't you be over there celebrating with your men?"

Lilia, sitting flat on the ground, took a large swig from a glass flask. What he's drinking, you don't want to know. It's swamp like in color and thick like gasoline, but it seems to be something that gets him drunk.

He swallowed and sighed with deep satisfaction, red high in his cheeks. "You think we have enough time to celebrate? We don't live this long indulging in those loud parties those nobles love so much. Besides, this is a break, not a celebration."

Yeah, he's pretty tipsy. Well, as tipsy as a fae can get. You've seen people stumble around blind in their drunkenness, but never faeries.

"Huh," you looked to Lilia, "you take breaks? Wouldn't Her Highness singe you bald if she found out?"

"There are many things I don't tell her," and just like that, General Lilia's face and relaxed continence became more sober. Sharper. "How I go about in my private days, she doesn't need to know. Though, not as though I can stop her when she wants to barge in on them…"

Huh. Well, that's not quite as shocking as you thought it would be. No matter the time, Lilia was always keeping something close to his chest, whether it be something seemingly benign or important.

"Though," you leaned your face against your hand, catching Lilia's red eyes, "Am I really so relaxing to be around? That you would go out of your way to see me? I didn't think you saw me as a friend."

Really, in all his prickly nature, and the fact that his closest one was a woman who hated you, you thought Lilia would be more distant with you.

Then, Lilia smiled. A glint, shape canines shining in the flaring fire, as though he found something both succulent and offensive to his senses.

"A 'friend,' huh?"

Just as his flask landed on the stiff grass, Lilia closed the distance and clicked a heel right next to you against the log. You back up with a "whoa," just so your face didn't hit his nose. Lilia wasn't deterred, he simply leaned down so you couldn't focus on anything but him.

"Friends, with a human. It's laughable really, just saying that sentence alone!" His grin, for the moment it was there, was mocking. "Imagine how many would die of laughter at the thought of me wanting more than friendship from a human."

And that mockery was aimed at himself. Accepting of what's in him, and irritated at it existed at all.

"Since when have you ever cared?" You didn't turn away nor did you push him. "Why not indulge in the now? You can always forget about it later."

That gave Lilia pause. He took in a breathe and glared at you. He slid right into your lap without much sound. His arms rested upon your shoulders.

"…you should know what it is you're saying," Lilia murmured, as though he's afraid he'll blow away this fantasy if too loud, "Pranks like this are in poor taste."

You let your hand feel up the side of his body, your other combing through his long hair, releasing it from it's high tail.

"You know I don't do pranks," you're more dragged into them than anything, "Now come on. Indulge."

Lilia, impatient, closed the distance. This will be a secret, known to only you, Lilia, and the fire behind him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #lilia #lilia vanrouge #janitor au #time travel shenanigans #reader insert

[damiansgoodgirll]

are r up for writing about gavi if so could you do gavi reacting to u pranking him telling his a guy did ur brazilian wax? if not that’s ok but can u then do it with kylian?

i’m not really a gavi fan so i hope you don’t mind i made this with kylian 🫶🏻🥹

kylian mbappè x reader

Prank goes wrong

you saw this video on tiktok right before you had your wax appointment and you had this mischievous idea to recreate the same with kylian, even though you wouldn’t be filming it you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“hey baby!” you said almost screaming once you got back home from your appointment.

“hey mon amour” he said from over the couch “come here next to me” he aimed at you for joining him on the very large and comfortable sofa he had in his living room.

“how was your day?” you asked him.

“boring. no practice, nothing to do…you were gone all morning and the house was pretty silent without having you here” he confessed.

“i’m sorry baby…you knew i couldn’t cancel my appointment today” you smiled to him and kissed him.

“i know i know…by the way, how did it go?” he asked, focusing all of his attention on you.

“oh pretty good! you know, the usual girl who wax me was sick today so i had someone else to do it” you said trying to act natural.

“oh, was she good?” he asked.

“yeah, he was really really good” you said, not looking into his eyes yet.

“oh great…wait, he?” kylian asked you turning off the tv.

“yup…no one else was able to do it this morning, but they have this new guy and he’s actually really good” you said once again.

“but-but where did you? you know…where, which part of your body?” he asked you trying to keep it cool.

“oh, i shaved my legs, my armpits and my vagina” you said completely normal.

“hold on…you’re telling me you had a man touching you down there?” he almost screamed.

“what? he wasn’t touching…he was just doing his job kylian, why are you so pressed? you’ve never acted like this when it was one of the girls doing it…” you said.

“exactly! those were girls! today you had a man! a man! a man who basically saw you naked! isn’t this illegal?”

“why should it be illegal kylian? he was simply doing his job…i don’t get why are you so mad…” you tried to look hurt but inside you couldn’t stop laughing, this was evil but you were having so much fun.

“but-but…a man? seriously? he touched you down there y/n…a man!”

“you probably said man a thousand times already…kylian, i don’t get why you are so mad, he was just doing his job…” you tried to resonate with him but he was actually pissed about it.

“i’m not mad!” he screamed and you looked at him “okay…i’m mad…not mad mad, just mad, i don’t know okay? i don’t know how to feel! a guy saw you naked down there and touched you and i don’t care if it was his job that shit should be illegal! a man? no way that’s crazy! you know what? give me the name of that place…i want to get waxed too…” he said and that was the moment you completely lost in and bursted out laughing.

“why are you laughing? it’s because i wanna get waxed too?” he asked you.

“no…no that’s not the reason” you said between laughs “you’re so jealous i love you kylian”

“i don’t get it…” he looked like a lost puppy.

“no man touched me down there…” you kept laughing.

“then how did he wax you?”

“kylian…” you had tears in your eyes because you kept laughing “no man waxed me, it was all a prank” you said.

you couldn’t decipher the look on his face. he went from mad to confused, from confused to sad, from sad to relieved and from relieved to speechless.

“so you thought this was funny?” he asked you and you nodded “why would you think it would be funny? i was about to get fired a man that doesn’t even exist!” he said.

“you are so jealous you would even get a man fired for me?”

“well if a man saw my woman naked i would have his head on my table…” he said smirking at you.

“oh my - you’re something else” you kept laughing.

you both spent the rest of the day laughing about the prank you did but what you didn’t know was that kylian was already working on how to get revenge on you.

#kylian x you #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappè x you #kylian mbappè x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylianmbappe x reader #kylian mbappe #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappè imagine #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappè smut #kylian mbappè one shot #football imagine #football x reader #football fan #football one shot #football headcanon #football x y/n #football x you #football

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .8

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Discussions of child abandonment

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Posted a day early bc I adore all of you so much <3

Artwork is Kiss by Edward Munch (1897)

Word Count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

.8

You have to pick the places you don’t want to walk away from.

Joan Didion, The Book of Common Prayer

The passage of time is a strange thing when wading through the midst of grief. At once, a sort of liminal space you’ve created to enshroud your existence, protect yourself in. Like all time has stopped, and you’ve cemented yourself in this space where your pain and sadness was created, but also, with life continuing to churn around you without pause. So that you’re left to watch as everything around you passes by – all while you’re unable to move, breathe, change. 

It was…  saying it was difficult would have been laughable – inane – to move on from the scene in the park. The look on Joel’s face, his silence, Sarah’s cries for her mother. You wanted to be there for them, to know what was happening between them, if Sarah was okay, if Joel was okay. But you remain in your shroud instead, surrounded only by all the things you want, but will not let yourself have, surrounded by all the ghosts of your past you’re so fucking tired of holding on to. 

The day’s been abysmal – exhausting and sluggish, and it seems as though everything that could have gone wrong, had. Like the universe was working overtime to turn your existence into one ridiculous, cosmic punch line. And now, well into the evening, and much, much later than you should be leaving the school, you make your way towards your lonely car at the far end of the parking lot. You’d had to stay late to figure out a delivery issue with your order of supplies for the rest of the semester and had lost track of time once again. Now nearing eleven PM, you’re exhausted and hungry and freezing – the true chill of late autumn finally sweeping into the city with an angry vengeance. 

You’d had Sarah at the forefront of your mind all day, worse than usual, for some reason. You couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of her little voice asking you if you’d had as much fun with her as she’d had with you. She’d embedded herself into your heart in such a short time, and as inextricably as her father had. Just one more painful thing you had to carry on without. 

You climb into your car and sit for a moment, head tilted back against the headrest, staring out into the dark night. You’ve felt on the verge of tears all day, a tight, pinched heat hovering just at the edge of your forebrain, ready to break and spill at the slightest provocation, and just sitting here now, after such a terrible day, at the thought of having to go back to your lonely, quiet house and get into a cold bed, only to dream about him, well, it has those tears rushing forward and spilling unencumbered from your eyes. 

You must surely paint a very sad and pathetic image, sitting here alone in your dark car, crying over a man who you’d so definitively pushed away, you thought that whatever he might’ve felt about you at one point, would surely turn to hatred eventually, after having hurt him so much. The thought fills you with a rueful bitterness, and you think that after everything, it’s only what you deserve. You think of his coaxing voice, telling Sarah that it’d all be okay, and as you reach to turn the key in the ignition, you think that maybe you’ll get yourself an ice cream with sprinkles too, maybe that’ll make you feel even a little better, just like he’d said, make you feel close to them, but when you turn your wrist all the car does is give a pitifully sad sputter and croak and then nothing. You turn the key again, again, the lights on the dash flicker, and then it goes completely silent and dead. And yeah, this is just exactly what you’d expect. You’re sure that you’re being punished. Punished for ever getting involved with him, for falling in love with him, for pushing him away, for hurting him, punished for existing, perhaps, because God can things get any worse? You don’t think so. Your tears renew their vigor, and then you’re slumped over, brow pressed to the steering wheel as you sob. It’s so late and you’re so tired. All you want is to go home to him. All you want is to see him, to have him hold you and tell you in that deep, comforting voice that it’ll all be okay. Gerri had mentioned that she had plans with her sister tonight, you don’t want to interrupt that, and you realize, as you wrack your brain for what to do, that you have no one to call to come help you. It’s closer to midnight than not, and you’re entirely alone here, stranded in the cold night. 

And at that terribly sad, despairing thought, you pick up your phone and dial his number. You don’t even consider the fact that it’s late, that he could be busy, asleep, with Sarah or his wife. The impulse is uncontrollable, you need him, you need to hear his voice. Nothing else matters. It only rings twice before that gorgeous bass is rumbling in your eardrum. Your eyes flutter shut at the sound of it, all your breath whooshing out of you in a pained exhale. 

“Hello?”

“Joel–” you gasp.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is immediately full of panicked worry. 

“I’m sorry to call so late. I– I didn’t–”

He says your name sharply, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I– I didn’t have anyone else to call, I’m sorry and a– a–,” you can’t catch your breath, “I– I didn’t want to– to call anyone else, and– and I’ve had just– just the worst day, and Joel– Joel, I miss you so much, and I’m so sorry,” you cry. “I can’t stop thinking about you saying that this was hurting you, that I was hurting you, and then Sarah, and– and now my car won’t start and I– I can’t, Joel. I just can’t do this anymore.” You let your forehead fall forward onto the steering wheel as you feel tears drip down your chin and onto your lap, digging your nails painfully into the leather of the wheel. 

“Jesus Christ, where are you?” You can hear him moving around quickly on his end, the jingle of his keys. He says something you can’t make out to someone on the other side, and your heart seizes with panic for one second, but then: the snap of his fingers, and Tommy, I’ll call you, closer to the receiver, and your anxiety abates for a moment. “It’s eleven o’clock at night. Are you at the school? Are you by yourself?”

“Yes– yes, the college.”

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart. Don’t cry anymore, and listen to me,” his voice goes, suddenly, very serious, snapping you to attention, “You didn’t hurt me,” he says. “Okay? I don’t want you thinkin’ that. The circumstances, perhaps, but never you. Do you understand me?”

He can’t see you shake your head, but you do it anyway. I’m sorry, you whisper again. You know you did, you know your indecision and recalcitrance and rejection hurt him. “Wait, Joel–” you don't know what you want him to wait for because all you can think, all you can feel, is the most tremendous amount of relief you’ve probably ever felt in your entire life. He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming for you. It’ll all be okay now. 

“I’ll be right there, baby. Don’t worry, and lock your goddamn doors.” You hear the slam of a door. “Ten minutes.”

He makes it in seven. Your cheek is smushed against the steering wheel, half of your face gone to numbness now, when his headlights swing into the dark parking lot. You pick your head up, blinking your blurry eyes, trying to collect yourself – stop your crying, but you’re dizzy, half lulled to sleep by the headache brought on by your tears and anxiety, and then he’s there at your door, rapping on the window and tugging on the handle for you to open it. You flip the lock, and he rips the door open, coming to a crouch in front of you and taking your wet face into his hands, swiping his thumbs beneath your swollen, aching eyes. Your tears fall harder. You can’t help it. He’s touching you, he’s here, after weeks and weeks of dreaming of him and hurting for him and missing him, needing him, he’s here and he’s touching you.

“Joel–” you sob, throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as tightly as you can. 

“Fuck, baby, please, please, don’t cry like this. Please, you’re breakin’ my heart.” He rubs your back in long, soothing strokes, trying to calm your wracking sobs.

“I’m– I’m sorry – I can’t help it. I– I’ve missed you so– so much,” you hiccup. He presses your head into the crook of his neck, drapes one of your knees over his crouched leg to pull you in closer to him. You’re so warm, you mumble into his skin, delirious.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he soothes, “I’m here now. No more crying. I’m gonna make it okay. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Not gonna let you miss me anymore, sweet girl. No matter what you say. This ends now.”

Please, please, you whisper again and again over the sound of your tears. You don’t even know what it is, really, that you’re pleading for. You only know that if he doesn’t give it to you, you feel you might surely die without it. “I’m so tired, Joel,” you whisper, as he holds you, settles you in his arms. 

He follows you home in his truck after he gets your car to start again, says he wants to make sure you get there safe. You hope what he really wants is to just stay with you a little bit longer.

As you clamber out of your car in your driveway, your heavy tote weighing your shoulder down, he’s already there, gently gripping your elbow to help you out, sliding your bag off your shoulder and relieving you of the burden.

“I’m– I’m okay. You don’t have to.” 

“Hush, let me take care of you,” he murmurs as he takes your keys from your grasp and slides his warm palm along the small of your back, urging you towards your house where he unlocks the door and follows you into the dark interior. 

“Joel, it’s alright. If you need to go, or–”

“There’s nowhere I gotta be other than right here, sweetheart.” He sets your bag down by the door as you retreat to the far side of the living room. You need space to breathe, to collect your thoughts, or you’ll throw yourself at him, melt onto the ground at his feet and turn into a puddle of tears and desperate want right before his eyes. You think that what little dignity you’re still holding on to should be preserved right now, at least in front of him. 

“Sarah?”

“Tommy’s with her.”

“Eva…?”

“She left,” he says plainly.

“On another trip?” And there’s a sort of desperate, hysterical edge starting to fill your voice at the look in his eyes. There’s something in his gaze that tells you that this is it, this is the point of no return for the both of you, for some reason. 

“No, baby. She left for good. Weeks ago – got divorce papers in the mail on Monday.”

“Wh– but I–” you turn away from him, shaking your head and rubbing at your aching temple as you pace back and forth.

“You what?”

You stop your pacing, turning back to face him, entirely at a loss. “But I don’t understand…” you say, voice small – childlike.

He steps towards you, the most tender look in his eyes, “What don’t you understand, my love?” said so, so gently.

“She just left Sarah?” Your hot tears are falling once again, uncontrollable, causing your voice to hitch and break. The image of your mother, walking away from you with that tall, dark stranger, never turning back, never coming back to you. She’d gone away that day, and had never really come back again, not in any real sense. And now Sarah, the same thing was happening to Sarah. You feel a hot surge of anger rise up inside of you like a cresting wave. You go almost dizzy at the intensity of the feeling rising up, and you’re forced to reach out to the closest surface for support. A weeper in a long line of weepers, and you are so fucking tired of it. You never want to shed another tear over any of this ever again, for the rest of your life. You just want to be happy, you just want peace, you just want to let go of this interminable anger and resentment, let the wound close, please, please, please. Just let go of it already. 

“I don’t– why would she just leave? How could she just leave her like that?” I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t. How could she just leave like that? How could she just leave me like that? How could my mother just leave me like she did? How can a mother just go away and never come back to her little girl? You’d never understand. You couldn’t. 

And yet, through the haze of your panic and grief, his voice breaking through the turmoil is loud and clear. You realize that his hands are on you now, cradling you in his embrace, pressing kisses to your hot face and hair, murmuring in that gentle, and reassuring tone you love so much: I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, and I’ll never leave either of you. I swear to you, I swear, I swear. 

And once again you’re reminded of category, of the power of category and what comes before it and what comes after it. What is feeling before category? No longer possibility, but promise, promise, the promise of his love. For even if he hasn’t said it aloud, you feel it in the press of his hands, the reassurance of his voice, in his presence here, in this moment, coming to you when you needed him so badly, despite everything else. There is promise in the love he translates into your body, into your soul. 

And then it breaks through the haze of your mind: my love, my love, my love. 

And there is your category, after all. 

You feel him sink to the ground with you held in his arms, and he cradles you as you cry. As you let out what you promise yourself in those moments, to be the last anguished tears you will ever shed for your past again, for the loss of a mother, for the idea of the right kind of love. He cradles you and pets your hair and whispers words of reassurance and love and comfort into your ear until you're lost to the sound of his quiet voice and his stroking hands, and you fall into the first sleep in months where he doesn’t visit you in your dreams. 

-

You come to slowly, taking stock of your exhausted body. Your head throbs, but there is the most delicious heat seeping into you everywhere, comforting and heavy and blazingly hot. He shifts as he realizes you’re beginning to wake up, and his arms tighten around you for a moment, before he’s pulling back to cradle your head and look down at you. You realize that you’re both laying in the dark coolness of your bedroom. He must have carried you in here after you’d cried yourself into exhaustion, stayed with you to accompany you in your sleep. 

He rumbles at you, deep in his chest, drags his fingers along your scalp and down the length of your hair, and your eyes flutter closed at the sound, at the feel of him. You love him so, so much. You are so in love with him. 

My love, my love, my love. A shiver wracks through you, and you let out a tiny whimper. 

“How do you feel?” he murmurs. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m–” you clear your throat, it feels raw, your voice coming out rough and scratchy, “I’m okay.” He’s quiet for a beat, taking your face in, and you bring your hands up to wrap around your throat, to keep yourself from grabbing at him, pulling him over you and never letting him go. You’re afraid, you don’t know what’s supposed to happen now. His wife had left his daughter, she’d sent him divorce papers, but you’d pushed him away, you’d hurt him, and he’d not come to look for you since. You didn’t know where you stood, despite him being here, despite his words and his touch, you were unsure what it was that would or could happen now. 

He looks down at you for a second longer, and then nods once and moves to stand, pulling his arm slowly from beneath your head so as not to jostle you. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Okay, you whisper as he turns to go out into the kitchen. You lay there for a second, listening to the sounds of him moving around your home, and it fills you, once again, with the most intense of longings. You want to hear him existing in your home, in your space, for the rest of your life. You’re so full of love for him, love and longing and a deep awareness of how good and kind and caring he is, and you want the opportunity to be able to give him everything he deserves. 

When you step out of your restroom a few minutes later, he’s sitting at the edge of your bed, a cold glass of water dripping down onto a coaster on your bedside table. You pause at the door, leaning against the frame to stop and stare at him. He’s still not cut his hair. You wonder if he’d let you do it for him. You have the ridiculous thought that you don’t want anyone else touching his hair ever again. It’s yours, he’s yours, and you want to be the only person in the whole world who gets the privilege of experiencing that sort of intimacy with him. 

He stands too after a moment, and you watch his eyes sweep down your frame – fire for you burning in his gaze. He still wants you, and oh, it’s all you need to know. He lifts one thick, strong arm to drag his fingers through his overly long curls, and you admire the lacework of blue veins beneath the stretched skin of his bulging bicep. He lets out a deep, long breath, you watch the wide wings of his rib cage contract and expand as his lungs work. His arm falls limply to his side. 

“Will you come over here?” he says, so softly, but with a note of distressed fervor at having you so near, and yet, not being able to touch you, but also, at the same time, afraid, afraid that you’ll reject him again. Your eyes flutter shut at the sound, and then you’re stumbling forward and throwing yourself into his arms. 

He catches your skull in the firm grip of his wide palm, thick fingers twisting in your long locks, “This is it,” he says, looking down into your face, “You understand me?” And yes, yes you do. You realize that there’d always been a part of you that wanted someone to tell you, to claim you, to tell you that you were theirs without doubt or stipulation, to tell you that you belonged to them, and here he was, doing just that – had been trying to do so from the very first moment. The realization fills you with the deepest of comfort. 

Your eyes flutter closed and you nod, yes, you whisper, I understand, and then you’re letting your head fall back on your neck, opening to him, and he’s kissing you, pressing his mouth to yours and taking you with a sense of savage, desperate victory. Finally, finally, the two of you have found yourselves on the same sure footing, finally, you can give yourselves to each other without anything else to interfere or hold you back. 

His strong hand anchors your head exactly at the angle that he wants you, and he sweeps his tongue deep into your mouth, slick and wet and molten. His other hand slipping down your back to clutch the soft swell of your ass and press you up and into him. 

-

He turns to slowly lower you down onto your bed, never once taking his mouth from yours. When you hit the soft surface he slides his mouth across your cheek, along the edge of your jaw, a gentle nip to the throb of your pulse and then further down to the wing of your clavicle. You drag your fingers through his hair, over his face, feeling the flutter of his lashes, the coarse roughness of his beard, the strong muscles of his neck and shoulders as his mouth moves over your skin. He pulls back to pull your top off and slide your trousers down your legs, and then he’s rolling you onto your side, your limbs divested entirely of their autonomy at the gentle maneuvering of his big hands, he unhooks the clasp of your bra, and then he’s pressing you entirely down onto your belly. Taking in the elegant sweep of your back, the delicate muscles twitching and trembling beneath the gorgeous surface of your skin. He slowly pulls your thong over the swell of your ass and bends to bite down on the supple flesh of your cheek – hard – laves his tongue over the hurt to soothe, and you keen, high pitched and wild for him, hips hitching in a needy little arc. He wants to mark you, brand you permanently. Write his name into your flesh, blood drawn for him to drink down. 

There is a certain flavor of darkness swelling inside him, something possessive that demands he take you and mark you as his, only his, forever. 

He pulls you up slightly by your hips and grips you by the meat of your ass to spread you wide for his inspection – red cunt, weeping and swollen already for him. So pretty, he tells you, praises you. You beautiful fucking thing.

He bends his head and licks the broad flat of his tongue from your clit, all the way through your sex to your asshole, presses his tongue there, just slightly, to let you feel the pressure at that secret little place he plans to eventually take for himself as well. Your moan at the feel of him there is loud and guttural. He clamps down on your hips, tight, to keep you from squirming away from his exploring mouth. 

“Joel, please, please–” you beg, but it’s his turn now, his turn to do with you as he will. He flips you back over, tosses your legs over your head and pulls you up by the hips to start licking you in earnest. His mouth on your throbbing clit, his thumb in the cleft of your ass, he sucks on your clit hard, one foot planted on the ground, another bent on the edge of the bed, he supports your weight like that as he eats your cunt. “Knees hurt, baby,” he rumbles into your wet flesh. All you can do is moan and whimper his name over and over again. He licks into your fluttering hole, kisses and laps at your clit, over and over again, until he can feel the tremble of your thighs around his head and the shifting of your abdomen and then you’re coming on his tongue, scratching at his arms and sides, anywhere you can dig your nails into him and grapple for purchase. 

“Please, please, take your clothes off, I want to feel your skin. I have to, please.”

-

He lets you down to pull back and reach around for the neck of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head, shucking off his jeans and boxers, and then he’s kneeling over you and pressing his entire heavy weight down into you, covering you with the broad expanse of his body. He squeezes and kneads your soft flesh, gripping the lush of your bottom to roll your wet core against his hard length. Your shared moan at the feel of the hot press of your aching flesh sliding alongside each other trembles through the lines of your body, and he pulls his hips back slightly, notching the wide head of his cock at your entrance and pushing into you slowly, slowly, so that you’re made to feel every throbbing inch of his thick girth. He shifts one of his knees further up beneath your thigh to anchor you more firmly into his lap and pulls his hips back and then drives back in, hard and deep so that his cockhead bumps at the mouth of your womb. 

“Oh God, Joel– harder, please, harder, more,” you beg.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he groans into the crook of your neck, teeth nipping at the line of muscle that connects your throat and shoulder, putting more of his weight behind his thrusts so that he’s ramming into you in slow but devastatingly deep strokes, his hand anchored at the base of your spine to pull you onto his impaling cock. “So much, baby. Was going out of my fucking mind without you. Need– need you. Fuck–” he moans as your inner walls start to clench and flutter at his words. You press your heels into the small of his back to urge him further into you. You want him deeper, need him harder. 

He hooks a hand beneath one of your knees then, spreads you wide and angles his hips down so that he can drill into you. He pulls his head back to look into your eyes, “Come on my cock, come for me, sweetheart. Lemme feel that cunt soak me. I need it.”  You’re stuffed so full, cunt stretched obscenely wide, pleasure and pain coalesce in your core, his battering cock stoking the fire in your blood until your pulsing and throbbing around his unrelenting length, cunt clenching and convulsing around him, trying to suck him deeper. He bares his teeth at you and almost growls at your wet gush. You arch your back further, muscles pulled tight as a bow string, trying to let him in deeper, deeper, you think that it’ll never be far enough, but he pulls out then, suddenly. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing, and you cry out, trying to hold him by his hair, dragging your nails over his shoulders to pull him back to you, but he’s bending and gripping the backs of your thighs to spread you wide, wide for the broad expanse of his shoulders, and he’s licking through the swollen mess of your cunt, lapping unrelentingly at your clit, licking into your opening so that you’re forced to roll into another cresting orgasm. Your muscles clenching and throbbing, a deep, searing heat coiling in your pelvis and unspooling in a rush of wet, musky slick onto his tongue. 

You’re beyond words, thought, consciousness, almost – a wet, trembling mess of a girl.  You think you’re whispering his name over and over again, can feel the vibration of words in your throat, begging for something you have no name for, perhaps his love, his devotion, but no, you know you already have that. You can feel it in the press of his hands, in the sweep of his tongue, in the murmured words of adoration and praise he presses into your slick skin. My love. He sucks hard on your clit, once, twice, and then he’s flipping you over again and pulling your hips up, up, up, and pressing the incredible thickness of his cock back into you, sinking deep down to the end of you, and holding there, grinding, so that you’re left clawing and mewling desperately for him to relent, to move, to go harder, something, anything. 

There’s a part of you that thinks you want him to destroy you, to unmake you, to unravel you to your very core and then put all your pieces back together himself. 

“ Fuck– look at you… so pretty stuffed full of my cock, baby. So perfect. My perfect girl,” he grunts, slamming his hips into your ass. All you can do is mewl and whimper pathetically, twisting the sheets beneath you in your shaking fingers.

“What?” he pulls out, presses the wide head to your clit, then slides back up and in again, so slow.  “How does it feel? Describe it to me – use your big girl words.”

“Unghh– so– so good. I don’t– I can’t,” you cry, “… so full.”

“Oh, I know,” he coos, reaching around to pinch your clit, up higher to cup your swinging breast, twisting your nipple harshly, “I know it’s hard to think when you’re so full of cock, isn’t it?”

He deepens the curve of your spine with a palm to the small of your back, face pressed into the mattress, ass up and completely open and vulnerable to him. His hips against the backs of your thighs are unrelenting as he pulls you back onto him, impaling you on his cock over and over, his balls slapping wetly against your clit, his other hand twisted tight in your hair. You can feel the rebound of your flesh at each of his thrusts, and you feel him getting more and more desperate. The rhythm of his hips translating all the weeks and months of wanting and anguish and lies and secrecy you’d volleyed back and forth between the two of you in whatever pathetic attempt you could muster to stay away from each other. All his frustration at you for pushing him away, keeping him at arms length, the painful cage of his marriage. You can feel all that repressed exasperation in the battering of his thick cock against your womb, balls slapping against your clit. He’s like a muted bruise deep inside you and you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head at the throb that rolls through your body. 

“Don’t stop, please. Never stop.”

“Yeah? Like that, baby?” he grits. 

He pulls you up against him, with one strong arm, back pressed tight to his chest, and you can feel the sweat sliding between the two of you. His breath is wet and panting, moaning, in your ear. His thrusts growing harder, deeper, erratic; he bands the inescapable strength of his forearm across your chest, pressing your breasts up and squeezing your tit tight in his big palm. You keen at the twisting pain, and he turns his face into your hair and groans, whimpers, the sound sliding through your hair as you start to come around his length one more time, cunt clenched so tight it hurts, almost pushes him out, but he fucks you through it. Forcing himself in again and again. You can feel your wetness dripping and smearing across both of your thighs – the wet gush of it, obscene. Your whole fist is clenched tightly around two of his fingers, holding on for dear life as you feel him start to come, the waves of his release rolling through him and into you, coating your insides with his hot spend. His heat blankets the bruise inside you know you’ll feel tomorrow, soothes and incites it at the same time. There’s a sudden flash of desperate gratitude within of you. He’s marked you. You’re his now. 

“I love the way you take me,” he breathes into your ear, “My perfect girl.” He grinds deep, and your muscles work to pull him further, pull his spend in further. Your whole body trembles and shakes, your cunt clenching tight as a knot, and then going loose and shaky so that you can feel the gush of his come start to leak out of the place where you’re joined. He plants one thick arm on the bed in front of you so that he can bend forward and let the both of you fall slowly to the bed, still buried inside of you. You continue to clench around his length, and he still has your breast clutched in his grip so that when your front meets the surface of the bed he’s draped over your back, so big and muscular and heavy, and you love the feel of his weight pressing you into the mattress. You turn your head towards him, so that both your sweaty brows are pressed against each other, and the two of you can breathe each other in. 

You stay like that for a long time, letting your oversensitive bodies come down from their trembling highs. Everything is sweaty and sticky and slick with your mingled come. Overwhelming in the most perfect way. 

Eventually he rolls the two of you over so that he’s not crushing you, your head rests against his chest – both of you catching your breaths still. His cock lays heavy and soft on his belly, damp from your mingled come.

You dance your fingertips along his hip, draw unseen flowers and vines that grow up towards his ribs and down his thigh. His own fingertips are a slow drag along the notches in your spine. Little pauses at each dip where he presses into your skin – he’s telling you something. Pressing a silent message into those beats, and you’re hyper focused on the feeling of it as you cover him in your invisible greenery.

“What are you thinking?” you whisper. He’s quiet for a long time, and you’re worried it’s something bad. Regret or a wish for something different. But then he says: “I haven’t been this happy in a very, very long time.” And what more could you want to hear from him in this moment?

 “Wanna know a secret?” he says. 

“Mhmm,” you hum, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his dragging fingers over your damp skin.

“I stole your panties, that first time at the lake, the blue ones.”

Your eyes pop open, and you surge up to lean on one elbow and look at him, “Oh, you are so–” you swat at his chest, “I looked everywhere for those – I want them back!”

“Nah, they’re mine now.” He squeezes you into him, cranes his neck to nip at the swell of your naked breasts squished up against his hard chest.

You lay your head back down on him, and grumble, “You’re a panty thief.”

“I am.” And no one should sound that pleased, at the sound of that sort of accusation. “Prettiest little scrap of lace I’d ever seen in my life, I had to have ‘em. Blue’s my favorite color now, you know.” He fists your hair to bring your mouth to his, “Gonna buy you a hundred more pairs of blue panties for you to wear for me,” licks into you.

Later he says: “Can I tell you something selfish now?”

“Always.”

He’s quiet again for a beat, and you’re coming to recognize these silences of his as moments of gathering for his words, things that have never come easily to him. “Sarah’s the love of my life,” he says slowly. “Nothing has ever, ever made me happier than she has. I’ve never loved anything more than I loved her the first moment I held that tiny little baby in my hands. But sometimes– sometimes I just– I wanted something else, something other than just my child, something only mine– that makes me happy and belongs only to me. And she’s my daughter, and so of course she’s mine, right? But one day she’ll go away and make her own life, and what’ll I be left with? Just my memories of her? And– and sometimes I think I– I resent … not her, never her – but I guess the idea of that, maybe? I’m not sure that’s right… but that she’s my only source of– of joy. I resent that. And it — God, it makes me feel so fucking selfish and ungrateful … because I’m not, I’m– I’m grateful for the miracle of her every single day, it’s the first thing I think about when I open my eyes every morning, and I’d never, never discount that or– or not realize that she’s such a blessing and how fucking lucky I am to have her, but… I don’t know… Do you– you know? You know what I mean? Is that — that’s real bad, isn’t it?”

“No, Joel. It’s not at all,” you say softly. The look in his eyes devastates you. So unsure, so wary. Like you’d strike him down, like you’d discount his feelings, not even try and understand him. You cup his cheek and he turns to nuzzle his nose into the palm of your hand. “I know what you mean.”

“That’s what you are for me. That something else–” You’re quiet, taking in what he’s saying. “I don’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re not scaring me. You could never do that.” You wrap your arms tighter around his waist, press a kiss to his belly, nuzzle the space under his ribs. “You’re a father, but you’re a man too. You deserve something else – besides just fatherhood – something for you. To make you happy.” You think of your mother, of Eva, two people who’d, like Joel, also wanted something for themselves – something besides parenthood that was only theirs, but who’d not known how to find it without forsaking all the rest. And Joel… who’d sacrifice anything for his daughter, even you, you’re sure. But still he’d fought for you, he’d hoped for you, and now look at the two of you, here together finally.

You lay holding each other for a long time through the night. You think of the hours and days and weeks you spent lying alone in this bed, missing him, hurting for him, and now, to have him here with you, with nothing else in the way, it feels like the most sacred sort of miracle.

“Will you take a shower with me?” you ask him eventually.

“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I will.”

The two of you stand under the warm spray together, his arms wrapped around your back, enshrouded in the cocoon of heat and steam. Your face tucked up beneath his jaw, you lick the warm water that runs down the slope of his neck, pepper small kisses to the beat of his pulse, his ear, the dip of his collarbone. His hands sweep over you in slick, roving arcs, squeezing your ass, traveling the slope of your spine, encircling your waist, exploring the lines of your ribs. His fingers are thick and strong and they press between the spaces of the bones in your chest, as if he’s looking for a gap in the protective outer shell that enshrines you, looking for a way to sneak in and peer inside, to the heart of you. If you could, you’d split your very skin for him, let him live inside you forever. 

Your mouth moves down to the notch at the base of his throat, and you lave your tongue there, tasting the flavor of his warm skin. Then to the thick muscle connecting his neck and shoulder, you dig your teeth in, sharp and hungry, and suck hard. Hard enough that you hear a little gasp slip out of him, his fingers tangling in your hair painfully, pulling on the sensitive strands, but not to rip you away, rather to press you closer, to make sure you leave a mark of yourself in his skin. 

You move down to his chest then, peppering open mouthed kisses over the broad expanse of his muscles there. He’s so hard, so strong everywhere. So much larger and more powerful than you are, and yet, he has the keenest ability to make you feel stronger than you’ve ever been, imbues in you the ability to feel like there isn’t anything you couldn’t do. As if there were a tether connecting the two of you, some sort of invisible string born from his heart and running all the way to yours, funneling that interminable strength of his, right into you. He makes you strong. He'd always let you be as vulnerable or as strong as you needed to be in the moment. Even despite his anger or pain or frustration he still let you get here on your own. And you realize that you’d never been allowed to be soft or sensitive – never given the chance to show your underbelly, being brought up in such a hostile environment, but he’d always given you that chance. He’d always been gentle, patient, understanding. He’d never been annoyed or frustrated at your overwhelming tears and nerves. He’d always let you be all the things you’d always been, but also gave you the chance to be all the things you’d always wanted to be, the ones you hadn’t even thought of yet. The possibility for you to grow into anything you’d like to be is endless in his embrace. You nuzzle into the smattering of chest hair at the center of his sternum, then a kiss over his heart. You pause there for a long moment, press your cheek to the surface and listen to the pulsing echo of his heart beating beneath his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as the beat thumps into your ear, and you shiver. This is the sound of Joel’s existence. When you turn your face up to his, his eyes are molten, full of heat and hunger and yes, there is it, love. You can see it melting out of him like ore. He loves you. 

How is it that two people can become so wholly intertwined that words become, eventually, entirely futile? Unnecessary. You don’t need to hear him say it, at least not now, not until he wants to, but you can feel it, see it, hear it in the cadence of his voice when he swore to you that he’d never leave you, that he was here and he would remain here, that he wasn’t going to let you miss him anymore. 

You start to lower to your knees slowly, face still turned up to his, your eyes never leaving his, but his hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place. “I want you to fuck my mouth,” you tell him.

“You don’t have to, baby. Floors hard.” And hearing his concern for you, that he’d think of that when you’re asking him to let you suck his cock, it makes you even more desperate to please him like this. 

“Please, will you let me?” You resume your descent so he’s forced to either let you go, or pull on your hair too hard. “Will you let me do this for you? I want to taste you. I want you in my mouth.” You press a soft kiss to the skin beneath his belly button, your knees reach the shower floor, another kiss to his hip bone, your tongue runs a line at the crease of his hip and thigh, and then another kiss at the space right beside the thick root of his cock. 

“Shit– yeah… yes, I’ll le– let you. God, fuck–” he spits, teeth bared in a growl. You’ve sucked one of the heavy, hanging weights of his balls gently into your hot mouth. You run your tongue along the soft skin, suckle gently on the round shape within, giving the sensitive surface as much of your wet mouth as you can. “My fucking God–” he whimpers above you. You wrap your hand around his rock hard length, fingers not fully meeting around the thickest part of him, and slowly start to jack his cock up and down, squeezing your grip at the head in a little twist. You stare up at his face the entire time, and you watch his head fall back on his neck, the strong muscles of his throat working as he pants and swallows, trying to keep his control. You hum deep in your throat, let him feel the vibration of the sound, and his hips start to thrust slowly up into your working hand. You pop your mouth off his sac and finally give the angry, flushed head the gift of your mouth. You press a gentle kiss to the curve of his tip, opening your mouth to flutter your tongue over the wide tip. You can taste the salty tang of his precum, leaking in a steady stream. Then your tongue, gentle as possible, pressed into the slit at the tip and he jerks, almost mewling at that. He’s panting above you, whispering your name over and over again, telling you how good you are, how perfect, how much he loves your mouth, what a good girl you are for taking his cock like this. You finally swallow him down in one smooth go, as far back as you can, and you hold there for a beat, another, another, working the muscles of your throat to swallow and tighten around him. His entire body is shaking now, trembling, his fist in your hair is so tight your eyes smart, tears springing to the corners. You pull back, take a breath and start to bob your head along the throbbing length in earnest. You can taste his precum at the back of your throat, and with how hard he’s trembling, you know he’s close. You hollow your cheeks around him and lave your tongue around the head on the pull back, suck hard on the tip, and then slide back as far as you can go, wrapping your hand around the base of him, the part that’s too much for you to take comfortably. Your tongue runs along the sensitive underside, you focus on the tender spot right beneath the flare of the wide mushroom head, flicking your tongue back and forth until he’s growling and moaning, his hips drawing back to start to saw his length in and out of your hot, suctioning mouth. Fucking your throat in earnest, just like you’d told him you wanted him to. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and swallow my entire load, you hear me?” he grits. “Gonna spill down that little throat and fill your belly with my come.” And fuck, your cunt throbs and clenches painfully at that. You moan up at him, pressing your thighs together to alleviate the aching want there, your watering eyes, looking up at him with all the adoration and pleading you can call forth. Yes, yes, you want to tell him, please, give me your come, give me everything you have. I can take anything if it’s from you. He anchors your head in his hands and fucks your mouth, all the way until you feel the fat tip hit the back of your throat, once, twice and then his cock seems to swell even further, just for a second, and it kicks inside your working mouth as he starts to come. Thick, searing hot spurts of salty, musky come that you swallow as fast as you can. His torso tilts forward, one arm coming up to steady himself against the shower wall behind you, and he moans, deep and guttural, his blazing eyes trained on yours the entire time.  “Fuck, yes– fucking swallow it all,” his voice breaks at the end, quivering. You can feel globs of come seeping out of the corners of your mouth, and when he finally pulls his spent length from your mouth, a small whimper as you run your tongue against the extra sensitive underside at the last moment, he scoops the leaking spend back into your mouth with his thumb, pressing on the flat of your tongue as he makes sure you don’t miss a single drop of him. “All of it, sweet girl,” he whispers, eyes wide and feverish, “Every last drop.” You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck, circling your tongue around the digit, making sure you don’t miss anything. When you pull back with a loud, wet pop, he’s already bending to hook his hands beneath your underarms and jerking you up and into him, pressing his mouth savagely to yours and licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.

Chapter .9

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #Joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[borzoilover69]

ULTIMATE JAKE: an idea and an execution

 iA I Aka the post where borzoi talks to the crowd how awesome Lord Jake English is, the guy that everyones seen around, but have no idea who he is. Pull up a chair, this will get long. 

If Ultimate Dirk can be summarised by the mask of tragedy in theatre, LE Jake, AKA Ultimate Jake, could be summarised by the mask of comedy. I’ve barely read HS2, but from what I can see, Dirk wants to make a serious nitty gritty tragedy of serious and epic proportions. But he tries so hard that he ends up making it almost laughable.

Jake wants to make a thighslapper huckshaw comedy where everyones having a grand old time but  there is such deep and hollow tragedy hidden within the folds of all those pretty smiles.

If anything they abide a lot by aristotles theory on comedy and tragedy. While tragedy imitates men better than average, comedy parodies those who are worse.

Aristotle stated that those of a more serious type that may have once been inclined to celebrate the actions of great heroes in poetry and prose turn to tragedy, while those who’ve been dishonourable, humbled, turn to comedy. It comes down to duality, tragedy viewing duality as a fatal contradiction forever a fault in things, while comedy views it as natural, but something that everyone must live with the best they can, enjoy.  Do you see where I’m going here? Dirk, who praised Aristotle and read the epics turned to tragedy. Jake, dishonourable and hiding from those who he care about, turning to comedy. They line up well with the cognitive psychology of the tragedy and comedy visions, which you should totally look into when you can. 

Tragedy is idealistic, stubborn and serious. They long for something higher and greater than common existence. They value heroism, hierarchy, and finality. 

Comedy is pragmatic, adaptable, and playful. They consider the self, comfortable in their own skin. They’re anti-heroes, valuing situation-based ethics and reversal.

With that out of the way, lets keep to philosophy like it’s a boat in the atlantic. If Dirks look in life upon going ult is one of pessimistic realism, Jake is an absurdist.

If life is a cruel joke to jake, and it has been, then in his ultimate form hes acknowledged it, and given the cruel void, hes decided to seek out his own meaning. And it just so happens to be his best friend.

Misc details

- Capitalist

- He wears old 3D movie glasses because he’s that idiot. 

- He collects a lot of things. He has plenty of things hes shot killed and stuffed in his collection. 

You could say he’s rather past oriented, taking care to document it all out of interest and perhaps a subconcious pursuit to figure out the future.

- Very apathetic. He may be charming, but he’s still a jackass. He thinks existence itself is funny, he’s an absurdist; but he’s also a guy who realises he’s been kicked to the curb too many times and started shooting people. - His crew consists of John/June, (in place of rose. They have a lot of movie nights!), Karkat, and one (1) dead dave.

And finally some thoughts about ult Dirkjake: Maybe Dirk wants Jake to just kill him. It’s a game of cat and mouse, and perhaps it’s love for someone who deems himself unworthy, no, incapable of doing so. What better love than to kill someone? To trust and know they will kill you. Feeling safe in the knowledge they’ve known you in every universe and are here to kill you. Not that Jake would let him. I like them.. I think it’s my fave brand of dirkjake besides the original.. they’re dysfunctional, intolerable, and they hate each other, but it’s just interesting. For better or for worse, they’re stuck, and they’re not afraid of the fact they suck. If anything, it’d spur them to be worse.

“Oh yeah. I find the other guy fucking annoying and I’d gladly take a moment to rip his guts out and walk him around a tree until they’re all out and he's calling me every bad name he can think of, but if anyone tries doing this shit with him without my consent, I’m going to be hells of more pissed off.”

Look. It’s funny in the way that realistically, they could probably do a lot of damage to everyone else but due to the fact they know the other guy exists, they’re too busy trying to kick the others ankles out and then beating each other up to become dangerous.

Oh you bet your nanny it’s the gayest most fucked up kismesis known to man. Ultimate Dirk hates LE Jake, because he doesn’t give a damn. Because Jake makes him feel things he denies feeling. And that ridiculously, somewhere in paradox space, Jake went ultimate and decided he was going to man up and pursue Dirk to the ends of the universe. Ultimately: “My soul is bound to you in explicable ways. Our bonds cross the multiverse and wherever you are, somewhere I am by your side. Even in a hundred universes, maybe even a million. I will still find you.”

Perhaps the greatest thing and a closing note is that given they are the ascended versions of themselves, they’re aware of the fact that they’re aware of every time the other guy screwed them over, kicked them in the balls, etc. But they’re also able to see everything else. So what’s with a little hatelove eh?

#homestuck meta #dirkjake #ultimate dirk #ultimate jake #homestuck #ultimate rose: ive seen the light and you two either need to get laid or die #jake english #dirk strider #a lot of philosophy/ #borzoi talks #borzoi meta

[thought--bubble]

A Beautiful Gift

Billy Washington X (Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 3020

Billy Washington Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners and dividers by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Emotional abuse, Depressed Billy, use of a collar and leash, use of restraints, sub/dom behaviors, slight choking if you squint, teasing, whimpering and whining Billy, orgasm denial, established relationship,unprotected p in v, oral male receiving.

Going out to dinner for Billy's birthday should be a fun experience. Unfortunately, whenever you go out with Billy and his parents, you know it is going to be anything but.

You know his parents love him, and are worried about his lack of success in life, but you have come to know Billy well enough to know that asking him repeatedly when he will get a job or why he isn't doing anything is not going to help motivate him.

"Calm down," you say to him gently as you button up his dress shirt. He is clearly nervous. His fidgety hands and tapping foot give this away all too easily.

"I am calm!" He sqauks. "It's just a bloody dinner." He pushes your hands away from his shirt. "I can do it myself. I'm a man"

You chuckle and sigh. "Of course you're a man, Billy. I was merely attempting to help." You hold up your hands and wiggle your fingers. "Small fingers, easier for me to get those little buttons. Now come here, " you pull him back toward you by his shirt collar.

"You are a man. A wonderful man." You smack your lips down on his and press your body up against him. Your favorite way to ground him when you feel his anxiety starting to overtake him.

"Oh, don't you start this." He laughs as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly tight up against him. "You'll make us late"

"Hmmmm," you giggle. "I don't think it would be too big a problem if we're a little late." You kiss him again, this time pushing your tongue past his lips, savoring the taste of tea and cigarettes.

"We wouldn't be a little late." he grips your waist tightly, scrunching the material of the cute black dress you had put on for dinner.

"You sure? I happen to remember a few times that were pretty quick, " you giggle again and lean in for another kiss.

Billy brings his hands down over your ass and squeezes tight before letting go and giving you a smack. "You're real funny, ain't ya?"

"I think so." You wink at him and then pull back briefly to finish buttoning his shirt before placing your hands flat on his chest. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Let's get this over with."

The ride to the restaurant is awkward and quiet. You look over at him periodically as he drives. His jaw is tight, and his shoulders tense. You can see the tendons in his neck going down to his collar bone. You wish you could take this stress from him. Demand, he turn around and leave his parents at the restaurant alone, wondering why their failure son has declined to show up. But you know he would never do this, for there is a part of him that believes, believes that he will someday be the son his parents so want him to be. Something you doubt very much. Their minds are made up about Billy, and you fear if he should reach one goal, his parents would simply set the bar higher.

Once he pulls into the car park and stops the car, the two of you sit there in silence for a moment. You know better than to push him so you wait patiently as he builds himself up enough to go inside.

You know it's in vain, yet you decide to hope anyway. Hope that his parents won't take this dinner as an opportunity to tear him apart. To judge him, scold him, demand more of him. Especially on a day that is meant to celebrate him and his very existence.

Billy lets out one last deep sigh before stepping out of his old beat-up clunker of a car quickly rounding the vehicle to open your door for you.

He was like that. Little things like holding the door open for you or making you a cup of tea without asking were his love language. Acts of service. He had trouble outwardly expressing his emotions, no doubt a conditioned response. So he showed you how he felt, and everyone of these little gestures made you love him just a bit more.

You step out and link your arm with his, patting his forearm in a quiet sign of support.

The walk into the restaurant is silent. You can almost hear Billy's brain running a mile a minute, his self-confidence shrinking with every step.

When you arrive at the table, it's no surprise to you that Lana, Billy's sister, was unable to attend. She worked an important job and missed most family events. Although it almost felt like she was there with how much her parents spoke about her skills and achievements. As if to make it clear to Billy that he would never be able to rise to the occasion the way his ambitious sister had.

The two of you were sat down for no more than 5 minutes before the questions started rolling in from his parents.

"How is the job search going?" Was the first question from his father, and as Billy attempted to explain how many applications he had put in and how he is getting no response, his father shakes his head and simply states "if you really wanted a job you would have one by now."

His mother quickly joins in on the conversation with little tips and tricks of how to land a job and ways to motivate himself.

If only they knew how motivated he is. Billy wants a job. He wants to impress his parents even half as much as Lana. Unfortunately, just like his parents, the world underestimates poor Billy and squishes him down more and more with every rejection.

Dinner continues on in much the same manner, your tongue nearly bleeding at how hard you were biting down on it.

You keep one eye on Billy and watch with a heavy heart how he shrinks by the moment. How could they not see what this is doing to him?

When the dinner finally ends, Billy's father hands him money, a birthday gift of sorts, but of course comes with one last comment to bury Billy just a little bit more.

"You can use this to help pay the rent. I can't imagine that girl staying with you much longer if she's forced to support ya" he pats Billy on the shoulder while Billy stands in place frozen. You feel a fire rage in your belly and wish you could tear into his father. Let him know you would support Billy forever if that's what it took. But you knew this would only upset and embarrass Billy further, so you simply grimace and attempt to hide your eyeroll.

His parents say their goodbyes, not even noticing the state that Billy is in. You sigh again before sliding your hand into his and giving him a gentle tug to signal that it's time to go.

The ride home is silent, and your heart breaks a little bit more every moment he doesn't speak.

"I have some presents for you at home." You say softly, hoping to potentially lighten the mood.

Billy nods his head, his jaw clenched and eyes glued to the road ahead of him. He isn't mad at you. He isn't even mad at his parents. He is mad at himself, and you hate it.

Once back in the flat, Billy immediately goes onto the balcony and smokes. You know he feels awful right now, and you want to badly to make it better. He tries hard and just never seems to succeed in the way everyone expects him to, and the pressure makes it all the worse.

You take the two small gifts you have for him in your hands and join him on the balcony, handing them to him with a big smile on your face.

"Thank you," he grumbles, his voice so quiet you could hardly hear him over the traffic below.

He sits in the chair opposite yours and begins to unwrap his first gift. Inside a collar and a metal chain leash.

He chuckles quietly as he takes them out of the package and looks up at you. "Oh?"

You smile back at him, pointing to the gift that still lies in his lap.

"Open it," you bite your bottom lip as he starts to tear off the paper and lifts the lid of the small box, pulling out two black silk ropes.

He pulls them out of the box, slowly turning the material back and forth in his hands.

"Now I'm gonna go take off my makeup and take down my hair." You say while rising from your chair and moving towards the balcony door. "And when I return to the bedroom, I expect to find you, wearing only your collar." You don't wait for his response opting to instead enter the flat and head to the restroom.

You giggle to yourself as you hear him clamor through the door and take off toward the bedroom, half the buttons on his shirt already undone.

You take off your makeup and let your hair down, making sure not to finish up too fast. You want to give Billy enough time to get ready and give him a moment to sweat it out.

You take off your shoes but leave the little black dress and thigh high stockings you were wearing on. Knowing how Billy feels about you in a pair of thigh highs. It's his special day, after all.

When you enter the bedroom, Billy is lying in bed, his collar, and leash on, covered only by a sheet with the silk ropes placed neatly on the nightstand.

"Who said you could cover up?" You quickly pull the sheet from his body. Revealing his entire naked form to your eye. "I believe my instructions were nothing but your collar." You run just your finger up the skin of his leg as you work your way up to the top of the bed.

When your fingers reach his hip, he shudders.

"Oh?" You place your hand palm down and slide it across his belt line. The side of your hand just barely ghosting by the tip of his now fully erect cock.

Billy's back arches slightly at the touch. "Please don't tease," he begs.

"Me? Oh baby, I never tease you know that" you brush your fingertips through the blonde curls that surround the base of his cock as he whimpers. "Never"

You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and panties and thigh-high stockings.

Billy reaches his hand out to touch your thigh, and you quickly swat him away.

"Oh, be a good pet baby, so I can give you your treat" you climb onto the bed swinging one leg over his hips so you are straddling him yet hovering above him just out of reach.

"Sorry, sorry," he whines as he crumples the sheets beneath him in his fists.

"Oh, that's ok baby, let me help you be a good boy, ok?" You lean over him, taking the silk straps from the nightstand.

"Thank you," he says between heavy pants. You click your tongue at him knowingly as you tie up his wrists and secure them to the bedposts.

Once you have his hands securely fastened, you lay your hands flat on his chest, rubbing your palms over his quickly hardening nipples.

Billy takes on a sharp breath, his hips lifting slightly from the bed.

"Down boy," you coo, moving your flattened hands in small circles.

"Please baby please" He whines, undulating his hips.

"Please, what? my sweet pet. " You bring your tongue to his nipple. Lightly licking the small bud as he squirms.

"More, please more," he gasps as your tongue continues to swirl around his oversensitive nipple.

Billy pathetic and squirming beneath you. Your favorite sight on earth.

You sit up straight and grab his leash, wrapping it around your hand twice and yanking him up from the bed so that his shoulders are lifted.

"You're gonna be a good patient boy, aren't you?" You bring your face close to his as he nods excessively. "Good. Good boy."

You loosen your grip around the leash, allowing him to sink back down onto the bed while you still keep the leash coiled around your hand.

Billy sighs contendly as you return to his chest, and speckle kisses down his sternum and further to his belly.

He loves these small movements and sensations. They drive him completely wild, and you revel in the power they afford you.

You gently lick the rim of his bellybutton, and he whimpers loudly.

"Shhhh, pet. Shhhh, " you rub your hand along the skin of his waist in a soothing manner while your kisses continue down the path of his body until you reach his hips, his painfully hard cock, next to your face.

"I always take care of you, do i not?" You tease, Billy simply whimpers back at you, leaning his head back in anguish.

You take his cock in your hand and he shudders before bucking his hips whispers of "yes" desperately flooding from his mouth.

You stroke him leisurely while rubbing your nose against his leaking tip. His heavy breathing and the obvious tension in his legs make this all the more tantalizing for you.

You know he is holding back, trying to be a good boy. You lick just the head of his cock. Circling your tongue around the bulbous tip.

Billy thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself further into your mouth, seemingly unable to control himself. You grip him tightly by the hips holding him flat against the bed as he whines.

"Please, please," He whimpers between huffs. "I can't take much more."

You crawl back up his body, situating yourself by straddling his stomach and look down at him, a gentle, caring smile on your face.

"You can't, can you baby?" You brush your fingers along his cheek and sigh.

You step off of him and slowly shimmy your panties down your legs. Billy's eyes watch them as they go, licking his lips, his panting growing heavier. You move back and line up the tip of his cock with your slick entrance.

As you slowly lower yourself down, Billy's body reacts by his hips raising and his legs shaking. The look on his face, a mix of pleasure and pain.

His fingers wrap tightly around the silk straps that connect him to the bedposts as you sink down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace.

As your ass becomes flush with his thighs, you smirk at the look of relief that crosses his face.

Before you start to move, you again pull him off the bed by the leash, this time coiling it ever tight around your hand.

"You excited, baby?" You start to roll your hips, his cock bullying the spot inside you it never misses when you ride him like this.

"Yes, yes!" He pants, jaw slack looking up at you like the perfect little puppy you know him to be.

You hold him tightly by the leash as you increase your pace, his whimpers, and whines, getting louder with each movement.

You know your Billy. He won't last much longer at this stage, and knowing that brings you almost to your own peak. The friction between you building as you grind against him.

He's so beautiful like this. Panting beneath you, not worrying about disappointing anyone or not being good enough.

He's your silly little pet to be used as you see fit, and he loves it. His eyes roll back and his mouth opens wide.

"Not yet, baby." You move faster against him the knot in your stomach, pulling tighter as your thighs clamp around him.

"Not yet, not yet," he chants to himself. This little sign of obedience is what finally pushes you over the edge into bliss. Your peak washes over you, almost violent in its onset.

Your cunt clamps around him tightly as you continue to grind against him riding out the blissful moment almost to the point of over stimulation.

"Please," He gasps before biting his bottom lip impossibly hard. Poor baby is still holding back.

You make him wait for just a few more rolls of your hips before finally allowing him his release.

"Go ahead, baby." You coo, and almost as soon as the words leave your lips, he moans loudly, his hips stuttering as he spends himself inside you.

You sit patiently atop him as you watch his face contort in pleasure, small grunts of relief coming from his chest until he finally stills exhausted.

You lean forward and kiss his open mouth as he pants and smiles up at you, his arms now hanging limp from the silk straps that bind him.

"Such a good boy you are," you gently stroke his face, him turning his head towards your hand.

This is your favorite Billy. Freshly spent Billy. No worries, no stress, and he actually feels good.

You lift yourself off of him and release his hands from the straps. He quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tightly and kissing the top of your head.

"So, did you like your gifts?" You snuggle up next to him and reach up to help him take the collar off.

Billy simply smiles as you remove the collar, rubbing your hand against the slightly red irritated skin.

"I hope you don't bruise!" You say worriedly. Lifting yourself up on your arm and leaning over him to get a better look.

Billy chuckles and looks up at you, resting his hand on your cheek.

"I hope I do. A bruise necklace from you? Now that's a beautiful gift."

He pulls you back against him, your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat in your ears. Little does he know that to you.

This is the most beautiful gift.

To be added to taglists please see HERE

#billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington #billy washington smut #ewan mitchell verse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan nation #ewan mitchell #jess fics

[shootingstarwritings]

"Hey bro, how does a crew battle work...?"

Hey, it's me again! The name's James. Last time we checked up like this, I hopped my roommate's body so he'd get better at fighting games. His name's Korrin, but he prefers Kor.

I gotta admit, these powers were a pretty sweet deal. He suddenly had a brand new genre to enjoy and I got to play with his body every once in a while. Seemed like a win-win, right?

Well, we got caught up talking just a bit too much shit during one of the weeklies. Think I ended up messing with my roommate's personality a bit too much while I was jerking off as him. He was far cockier than before I started taking over.

"Yeah, that's right. $500 crew battle," said Kor, flexing his muscles through the tight t-shirt I had mind-fucked him into preferring to wear. "Me and James could beat the shit outta everyone in this venue. Easy."

I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, saying, "Chill the hell out before you spend all our rent money," through clenched teeth. In response, he leaned over and gave me a deep kiss before talking more shit.

We didn't have to play everyone in the venue, but now we were stuck in a 4v4 crew battle; and Kor had successfully pissed off just about everyone who was a regular. We had two weeks to find two other guys to fill out our team or we'd be going hungry for the next month.

The ride home was quiet, although Kor didn’t seem to mind. He stared straight ahead, one hand on the steering wheel while another was on my thigh. Occasionally, he would squeeze while smiling at me. The way his eyes lit up whenever we were together dazzled me. I couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when it was my fault he was the way he was.

"Aww, don’tcha worry," said Kor as he massaged my shoulders, another trait I had bestowed him. My bed was a bit small for the two of us, and Kor had often wondered out loud if we could fit a queen sized bed in my room. “I’m sure we’ll find some guys. Even if they’re dead weight, you and me can wipe the floor with everyone there.” Before I could say anything, he leaned over and kiss my neck. I shivered, toes curling as he greedily licked one of my more sensitive spots.

After I let out a few… unbecoming moans, Kor pulled away and tittered. “Love making you cry out like that,” he said in a sensual tone. “Well, good night. Gotta get to the gym early tomorrow.”

As the door to his room shut close, I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. I had a few other friends that liked games, but they had no interested in fighting games like me. Of course, that had never stopped me before…

Two weeks should be enough time to make two pros, right?

The first guy on my list was Jason. He was a buddy of mine that I met in college. Smart, kind, and eager to show off the gains he'd made at the gym. "I spent three years to get this bod," he had bragged to me, showing off his toned and sweaty torso. Even so, he still enjoyed playing games, particularly RPGs. He was always throwing one my way or another--with tons of fan translations and cryptic guides as well.

I'd have to play one of them to completion one of these days to thank him for the service he was about to provide.

The night after Kor made his bet, I made my move. I locked my door and focused on flying. My body slowly lost its weight, density, and then mass in general. Skin peeled away and disappeared into dust, waiting for the chance to reform once my mission was complete. Organs twisted into neat little knots that blinked out of existence. My bones ground up against each other before vanishing.

It was only during those few precious moments that my soul was free. I sailed through the sky, unable to feel the wind on my face yet elated all the same. The moon was so close to my fingertips that it felt unfair that I couldn't grasp it. However, I knew exactly what I could grip instead.

I phased through Jason's apartment with little issue and found himself soon afterward. He was playing a battle simulator without a shirt on. "It's about a 73% to one-hit KO," he muttered to himself as he clicked through an innumerable amount of tabs. I knew for a fact some of them were months old and untouched for just as long.

Probably another habit I’d have to kick, but it was hard to focus on that when I kept focusing on that tight body he had. I would’ve licked my lips of I had any in that form. Not wanting to waste any more time, I hopped into him.

“Hnng…! Ahhh…hah…!” Jason let out a moan, tongue sticking out involuntarily as a shiver of pleasure ran all throughout his body. “Wh-what the fuck—is happening—“ Jason moaned as he turned around and began to hump his seat cushions. “AH! NRGH AAAAAHHHH!” Any words Jason would’ve tried to cry out were soon overpowered by panicked pants of pleasure. His hands, which would’ve normally reached for his phone to call for help, could only play with his chest and sensitive nipples.

My will overpowered his own, but Jason didn’t seem to mind. He kicked off his shoes, socked toes curling up in pleasure, and rubbed his trembling body all over the coach. “I-I…! K-Keep go—OOAHH—Keep going!” He said, panting and laughing the whole time. His back arched once more as he let out a strangled scream while his erect cock spewed semen all over his shorts. Jason, mind drowning in a hurricane of euphoria curtesy of me, collapsed covered in a sweaty, semen-covered mess.

Eventually, I opened my new eyes and felt my chiseled body. “Mmm, oh Jason. Let’s get your hand-eye coordination to my level.” As I began to strip so I could play in the nude, I saw angry DMs from Jason’s opponent.

Smirking, I walked over to the laptop and messaged him back. “Sorry bro, too busy playing games and fucking bussy to play with a pussy like you. GG you win, loser.”

I laughed as I got another stream of profanities from Jason’s old opponent, but I didn’t care. I was covered in sweat, smelling like a real man, while I was playing my favorite game.

Once Jason was done and truly mind-fucked, I had one more person I needed to visit.

#male possession #male body possession #ghost possession #spirit possession #astral projection possession