#to be fair i was in ''nice'' interview clothes

[atomicqueer]

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#hate that i was sooooo uncomfortably hot today & i checked the weather & it was 64f lmao #to be fair i was in ''nice'' interview clothes #but still. #sweat is the bane of my existence

[minarisplaything]

Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé

pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.

Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.

That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.

"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.

You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.

Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.

You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.

Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.

It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.

"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.

"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.

"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.

"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.

For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.

"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."

"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"

Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."

There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.

"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"

Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.

"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.

"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.

If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.

Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous.  To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.

You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.

"I've been looking for you all night!"

You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.

"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."

"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."

"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.

You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.

"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.

"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.

"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.

Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.

“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.

"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.

"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures. 

As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.

"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.

"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.

"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.

You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.

When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.

"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.

You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"

"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.

"We?"

Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”

She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."

Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.

 "Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."

"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.

"Later. We don't have a lot of time."

Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.

"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.

"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.

"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.

"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.

"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.

You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.

"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.

"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."

"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.

"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.

"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.

For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.

Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.

"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.

You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.

"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.

A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.

"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.

"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"

You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.

"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.

One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#kpop smut #blackpink smut #male reader #rose x reader #rose x male reader #park chaeyoung x reader

[psychostxr]

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

#gen v #gen v x reader #gen v x you #gen v imagine #the boys #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys imagine #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li imagine #psychostxr

[sleepingnova]

imagine miles morales confessing to you that he is spider man after he saves you from something idk I love him

sure thing anon :) I don't know if you wanted this to be a pre - established relationship, so I'm just gonna go on a limb here and do that. sorry this took so long, I had a sudden burst of motivation. it's 1 am, so this isn't proofread

wc : I don't have a fucking clue, how do you check your word count if you're mobile?? I wanna do that 😭

Friendly neighborhood spider - man

pairing: miles morales x journalist reader

summary : being new york's top journalist has its perks, but it always seems to attract the wrong type of attention.

Journalism. It's not for the faint of heart. When you have deadlines to make, interviews to take care of, and people constantly yelling either at you or around you 24 / 7, everything can be a bit time consuming.

That also means you get a lot of attention. Some good, while others..not so much. Sure, its nice to have a free coffee or cake pop every now and then for the articles and the interviews you do; people have always said you have a way with words.

You really don't even know how you got into this situation. The caffeine kicked in, which made you jumpy to everyone and everything, really. Your eyebags were not very nice to look at and to be honest, you looked a mess.

You woke up late for class, you weren't really feeling like getting out of bed anyways but you did it anyway. No makeup, no nice and preppy clothing, just you; and boy did that bite you in the ass. You were 95% sure that all the things you had in life were handed to you because you were pretty. For instance, the guy who hired you literally took one look at you and said "congratulations, you're hired. we could use a pretty girl like you for coffee runs, right sweetheart?"

With balancing college and your career as a journalist, it's not too difficult. So then why'd you end up in this situation? Getting cornered by 3 guys in a dark ass alleyway, and it's 3:05 am.

No one at your job comes close to you when it comes to performance. Every single time. The newest topic of discussion is Brooklyn's number one trending for 7 years straight : spider - man.

"Who was he?" is your focus. The CEO of your job was retiring, and he held a competition to see who would take his spot. He obviously had you in mind, but he wanted to make things fair and you told him you wanted to earn it, not have it given to you.

The challenge was fairly simple: Get an exclusive interview with spider - man and have him answer a couple questions.

You've done exclusives before, not a problem. Until you realized, major problem. He swings around the city 24/7 how in fucks name were you going to catch him? Until an idea came to you. You stayed up all night, then you got hungry, so you left your dorm and walked down the street to the 24 hour convenience store. You liked documenting what you do, so you were recording on your phone where you were going.

After getting some snacks, you left and couldn't shake the feeling you were being followed. You were. By 4 different people. One of whom was none other than the infamous Miles Morales or, well, spider - man. He saw the guys five minutes ago and didn't want to do anything until he knew for sure you were getting followed.

A bit of time passes and miles realizes, he lost you. He hears a muffled shout from down the street so he runs towards it, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

Now your mind comes back to this exact moment. You can't really make out what the guy in front of you is saying, but you think he's trying to rob you, but why would he need two other guys to rob someone? Especially in the middle of the night. You look dazed and totally not scared at all, Miles thinks, as he's literally invisible right in front of you.

You come out of your trance to one of them forcing you onto the ground. You wiggle and worm your way away, but it's not enough. Fear settled in as you realized what they were doing.

"Hey! Let her go." A voice shouts. You reach into your pocket to grab your pepper spray as you see a bunch of webs and hear hard blows hitting, but it's really dark and you can't see in the dark for shit.

You start running out of the alley and back towards your building, you look back and see the three of them running after you. So you run a little faster, and faster, until you're full on sprinting down the street.

'Thank god my parents forced me into track and field.' you thought, as you got closer and closer to the building. As luck would have it, the doors were locked, and your key was in that bag full of snacks.

They finally catch you, and in a split second, you brace for impact, but it never comes. You're in the air.

You look up and there it is. This is the story that'll get you CEO position, you'll be CEO for the rest of your life. A thought pops into your head as he drops you off at his apartment.

'Was my phone recording everything? Oh shit it was.' you think to yourself as you pull out your phone, your eyes widening.

Another thought pops up. 'oh my god, I'm in spider - man's apartment. it's not even that far from my building.' you wonder as you stop the recording.

"you do know you're going to have to delete that footage, right?" he asks as he lifts up his mask and puts something in his mouth.

"I get your job as a journalist is important, but sweetheart, I gotta keep you safe."

You raise your eyebrow, "how do you know about my job?"

he shrugs as he removes his mask.

"Miles? What the fuck is this? Don't tell me you're.. You're spider - man?" You whisper yell as you back up towards his desk.

"The one and only, love. surprised to see me?" he chuckles.

it was then that everything started to piece together. he always bails on plans, he's always late and has sudden injuries. hell, you even saw his suit in his bag once, but you didn't think anything of it.

"wait.. what does my interview with you have anything to do with keeping me safe?" you raised a brow at him as he plops down on his bed.

"think about it, baby. Me swinging around being spider - man gets pretty complicated when there's an article released by my girlfriend about how she got saved, by me. It puts you in jeopardy, because criminals can find you and use you as bait, and because I don't know that you won't put my identity out there." he explained.

"but you know I'm not like that." you replied.

"yes, I know baby. it's just complicated." he said.

you sighed with a defeated look, knowing that your boss wasn't going to be pleased, but it was for the best.

"if it's alright with you, do you mind if I just stay here for the night? in the morning, on my way to work, I can ask for another key." you asked, softly, him catching your disappointed change in octave.

"yeah sure, that's fine." he replied, walking into his room.

"do you have a spare blanket? I can just sleep out here on the couch." you called to him.

"hm? uh yeah, I think I have a spare. unless you'd like to sleep in my room, with me? the couch is kinda uncomfortable, and it gets kinda cold in here throughout the night." he offered, shyly.

"what about your roommate?" you questioned quietly.

"he won't be back for another week or so, as far as I'm concerned, he'll text if something goes south." he answered.

you thought for a moment, then nodded as you followed him into his room and climbed into his soft bed.

"woah, this is way softer than I thought it would be. what softener do you use when you wash your blankets?" you wondered aloud, cuddling all in his blankets and he chuckled.

"uhhh, I don't know. my roommate does laundry. I don't ever go with him unless he needs me to, which isn't often." he responded.

'ah.' you thought.

"aren't you going to spoon me? c'mon miles, please?" you pleaded with the tired, little puppy dog eyes miles swore he hated, because he could never say no to you when you made that face.

"I'm sorry, I have a couple of essays to write still. Why don't you get the bed nice and warm, then I'll be in bed before you know it." he cooed.

your eyelids started to get heavy as you let out a small hum as you started to fall asleep.

when you woke up the next day, it was 8 am and there was a small basket in the chair next to you.

the basket was filled with your snacks from the night before all wrapped up in the bag still, a hoodie and some clothes to wear to class, a water bottle and a nice book for you to read. on the desk, there was your favorite iced coffee and a note with absolutely beautiful penmanship.

you smiled as you read the letter.

[ hello,

spider man here!

I only have time to answer one of your questions right now, so here it is.

Being a hero isn't about being famous or rich, it's about your own morals and how you stick to them. I started the whole "spiderman" thing when I was 14 years old. It was hard, I had just lost a family member and I felt isolated from my family. You wouldn't believe me if I said that under the mask, I'm just an ordinary person, just like all of you, but I am, really.

I chose to be a hero because I believed in helping others. I really have to leave, so I can't say much more.

Remember, anyone can wear the mask.

Until next time,

—your friendly neighborhood spider man. ]

while you knew that you couldn't tell anyone about who was really under the mask, a part of you felt proud that he trusted you with his secret.

should I make another part to this? likes and reblogs are always appreciated :>

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #into the spider verse #spiderman

[noroi1000]

Feeling Warm

Gojo (in toxic relationship) x maid reader

Words: 8k

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, his girlfriend abuse y/n. NSFW

Gojo's toxic girl name is Chloe. I don't mean to offend anyone with this.

Summary: You've been working for Gojo as a maid for two years now. His girlfriend recently showed up. But it was obvious how she used him.However, she did not accept that he broke up with her.He was looking for someone nice and sweet. On your example.You can't buy love, but you can buy fake love.He wanted someone to love him. So could you at least pretend and give him that fake love?

You couldn't do that.

You looked at the girl who clearly showed dislike for you.

You looked at your employer with whom you have been living for two years. He looked at you too.

You felt your wet coat soaking your apron that you were wearing.

Actually, it was your job to do household chores for your employers.

Cleaning, cooking, washing clothes. It's something you do.

Actually, Gojo-san is paying you what he shouldn't be paying. Because maid services are not that expensive. And he pays you more than he should.

Perhaps because he wanted you to be at his house all day when he was at home.

You don't know why he wanted it.

Once every two days when he was gone, you would come and clean his whole house.

And also on the day he was coming, you were there too, cooking him food and giving him a bath.

Sometimes he would ask you to give him a little massage when he was really tired.

He paid you that much, so you didn't say no to him.

Besides, you're not surprised that he asks if you can stay with him since he lives alone in such a big house.

It's like he's paying you extra for your company.

You could even do it without his money. After all, you've known him for two years.

But it's not like you don't need the money...

You get so much out of your monthly salary... You could buy yourself a new house, or even go to work by car instead of taking the bus or train.

But you help your family financially. You have younger siblings and you do not come from a rich family.

You want to support your parents, so you send them some money. Every month.

You leave as much as you need.

One day Gojo asked you how you are at home. Or should he pay you more because he noticed that the maid's salary is small. You told him that he pays you more than he should anyway. Because it was true.

He earns so much... He's so rich. Maybe that's why he thinks you don't make enough money.

He offered you more for an hourly rate, but you refused. You can't take money to sit in his house. It wouldn't be fair. And you're not that kind of person.

If you were doing more, or had much more work, you would have accepted a raise from him. However, you didn't do that much. He already gave you one raise because you got new responsibilities when he trusted you more.

You had the keys to his house. Besides, it took a while for him to let you come into his house when he wasn't there.

You knew he wasn't trusting easily. It wasn't bad.

Besides, you couldn't rob him... He was too nice a man for you.

You washed his clothes, you arranged it, you cleaned every corner of his house. You cooked him whatever he wanted.

You also took care of the garden on his estate.

You did everything right.

You took a job as his maid because you were looking for a job. And you were out of luck. Nothing was possible in your area. And sometimes you missed it because someone else was ahead of you.

In your family, your aunt works as a housewife for rich people.

At her suggestion, you wanted to do the same. If you knew how to cook and also did housework well, why not.

You put an ad in the paper because you didn't know anywhere else.

And a week later you got a call from your current employer.

He reportedly saw your ad in the newspaper while his friend was reading it. He needed someone to take care of his house because he is often busy. So he thought to talk to you.

You were very shy at your first interview. Because your employer was to be a young and very handsome man. He smiled at you, and even paid for your coffee when you met at the coffee shop.

You thought because of how nervous she was, he wouldn't give you the job. However, at the end of your meeting, he said that if you want, he will gladly hire you.

You wore different clothes at his house, and your apron was always there.

You were so tense when you finished something and you were afraid he wouldn't like it.

But he never complained.

You had the hardest time with his clothes and baths.

Because he asked you for all this.

You had problems in the beginning. You were afraid to ruin his very expensive clothes. You were ashamed to arrange his underwear...

You were even more ashamed when he asked you to wash his back while he was taking a bath in the bathtub.

He didn't seem ashamed or anything.

And when he saw your red face, he smiled.

His eyes were magical...

You don't know why, but it was.

The longer you were there, the better you got.

Even though you still blushed when he went shirtless or only in a towel, asking if you could give him a massage because his back hurts.

And your little hands on his muscular back were always something else.

You've been watching massage tutorials online. So you managed to make him relax.

You knew he was a stranger to you, but you couldn't do anything when you saw the lipstick stains on his shirt.

He was just your employer. a free man. You were not for yourself. you were nobody. You were just someone who cleaned and cooked for him.

He had his life. He was a young man. Of course he had needs. And since you haven't heard of him having a girlfriend, he must have met his needs somehow.

Your employer was a young playboy...

Someone whose charm made you feel something.

He was nice to you. He was handsome. He had a sense of humor. Besides, you, like no one else, got to know his childish behavior. And also that he is sometimes spoiled and doesn't care what other people feel. It was probably something others didn't see in him.

However, the real Gojo Satoru was someone who had goofy, irritating behavior. Who laughed at danger and people. Who immediately said what he thought. He was painfully honest.

So you understand why he didn't have a girlfriend or wife. Because it was better to leave the house, pick up some willing girl and then come home.

He once told you that all the women he knows closely say they would never want to be with him. They don't like his behavior.

He told you that as a joke.

And you answered him kindly.

„You're not that bad. If that's your character, you should look for someone who will accept you for who you are. I don't think you're as bad as others make you out to be."

He thanked you for the advice.

And then you noticed that he started looking for a girlfriend.

It was a year later when you met him.

You found out you fell in love with him...

Really...

Your employer was someone who was your type...

At first you thought he was serious and thoughtful. Someone mentally very adult who spends a lot of time at work.

And you got an adult child. Hell of a handsome and rich teacher (?) who is addicted to sweets and eats a lot, and acts childish despite his sometimes scary aura when he's serious.

You don't know if he's just a teacher or someone else as well. But you also don't know why his wardrobe has blindfolds and sunglasses that are so black you can't see anything.

You just don't know much about him.

And you guess you'll never know...

You're just his maid.

And he has a different taste in women...

He wouldn't want a girl whose job is to look after someone else's house.

Plus, you definitely look different than his girlfriend he has now.

Well, Chloe showed up four months ago. Their relationship was different than it is now. Well, Gojo hasn't changed. She has changed.

He, following your advice, was himself.

You couldn't have your crush, so you wanted to help him. You're too shy to tell him that. So you wanted to let go.

Ever since he first met her in the city until he finally brought her home.

And they've been a couple ever since.

He seemed pleased.

But she often told him to stop doing things.

When he asked you if you could bake him a cake, she forbade you, telling him that he can't because if he eats that much he'll get fat and she doesn't want to show up at the beach with a fat boy.

She didn't like some of his behavior. And you knew he was him then. the real him.

She often got annoyed when he played with her.

Until he, too, began to get annoyed with the way she behaved.

Completely different from the beginning.

At first she was nice and even sweet.

Now she was a real bitch.

She practically did not smile at him, sometimes she would come to his house to sit with him for a while.

He understood that she was working.

But at some point he found out that she quit her job.

She even wanted to move in with him, but he said it would be better for her to stay at her house because he is often away.

She didn't like it.

They were still a couple, but their relationship was strained.

They ignored each other. They quarreled often. And it ended up that when he started to get off balance, she ran away in fear, only to come back the next day.

For her there was a rule: sex fixes everything.

And yet she couldn't give him much.

Often her phone rang while they were fucking. She never said who was calling her, but she pushed him away and took the phone to his dressing room to talk.

And those moments that should have been a pleasure for them passed.

It's not like he was hurt. He didn't care. But he also had his needs.

And he complained later, even saying it to you while you were cooking.

Sometimes also when she had finished, she wouldn't let him come because she felt tired.

You often witnessed their quarrels.

They weren't that close after all.

He thought he finally found a nice girl.

However, that was not the case.

He hoped to find love, but he failed.

There was no love between them.

But he sometimes thought it was his fault.

You noticed that he really cares about others.

He was worried that he had done something wrong.

But she just wasn't accepted the way he is.

He also saw his account statements. Well, he let her use his credit card once or twice. And then she was just pulling it out of his wallet.

You witnessed it too.

She was probably transferring money from his account to hers. Because there was no way he would give her access to his account.

She forbade him to behave as he naturally behaved.

So over time, he noticed that she was bragging about him in front of her friends. And that she has new, fashionable and expensive clothes.

For "stolen" money from him.

Throughout the month this is going on, he's been trying to be calm.

Because he thought maybe he could do something to fix what he broke.

You were afraid to speak up, but at some point you got over it and told him it wasn't his fault.

Because it wasn't.

He didn't want it to turn out to be because of him. He really liked Chloe. But that was in the beginning.

She was sweet, kind and caring. Completely different from what she is now.

She didn't like you from the beginning. Perhaps because you were closer to your employer.

But she didn't even want to remember your name from the beginning.

She thought he should have a better maid because you often make mistakes.

But he didn't listen to her.

You didn't answer and apologized. You didn't want to be the cause of their quarrel.

She who hates you. And he who always stands by your side.

Would it be the same now?

"I've told you many times to call before you come here. You can't just walk into my house without asking, you know?"

"I didn't come in here. Your maid opened the door for me. At least she was useful for something after all..." She snarled throwing her wet coat at you. "Hang it up on the hanger, but gently. It's new. I don't want anything to break. Or better yet, dry it while you're here. I guess that's your job."

You caught the coat correctly, which helped your apron.

"Why are you looking at me? I don't pay to stand and do nothing." she said waving her hand at you.

"Sorry..." you grunted and walked away, walking towards the laundry room at home.

"You don't pay her. I do it." he said as you disappeared down the hall.

"But she's our cleaner."

"She's not a cleaner."

"So what is she doing? I believe she's here to clean your loo and wash your pants."

"She's supposed to be here. Unlike you." He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

She put her purse on the kitchen table.

"Baby, what are you talking about?"

"Don't talk to me like that."

"What's going on? Something happened?" She looked at him questioningly.

"Don't pretend to be worried."

"But I–"

"Just shut up and get out of my house."

"This is our home." She interjected.

"You don't live here and you won't live here."

"Don't you love me? Satoru, we're a couple–."

"So maybe it's time to end it, don't you think?"

"Wha–" she moaned.

You've heard everything that's going on there.

"You're a total bitch who thinks she can take advantage of me and I won't know it. You think you can play with me? Don't make me laugh!"

She walked over to him and placed her hand on his cheek.

He moved away.

He only knew one thing.

That he shouldn't hit her.

Because then she'll make him an even worse monster than she is.

"Get out of my house and don't come back. These are my last words." He growled pointing to the front door.

"Satoru, I think you had a bad day at work. I'll come another time, okay?"

"No! Get the fuck out of my house and don't come back! I'm sick of how much you interfere in my life. Doesn't suit you? get the fuck out. You will not use me for your image. And I won't be with a bitch like you. Also, how's your next boyfriend?"

"You have a fever?"

"Just leave."

she snorted.

"Fine... I'll see you when you're feeling better..." She turned around and started adjusting her high heels. "Servant! My coat!"

Recently, Gojo asked you for one thing...

Don't listen to this person...

"What a bitch! How can you have a maid like that?! She doesn't even come when I call her! I don't want you to have a maid like that! It's not worth anything! How can you still pay her?!"

Her words hurt you.

This happened every time they argued.

She must have said something bad about you. She always put you down.

Is it because you're a maid?

After all, Gojo doesn't treat you like she does...

You really wonder how much longer this poor man will have to deal with her.

He frowned as he walked towards the door behind which you were standing.

"(y/n)." he called softly before entering.

He looked sadly at the fact that you were standing with your coat in your hands in front of the clothes dryer. One hand rubbed your eyes.

I'm sure you must have been sad to see her push you around so much.

"(y/n), give it to me." he said walking closer to you.

He gripped the clothes roughly, crumpling it.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to dry it." you said quickly.

"It's okay." He said smiling slightly at you.

He put his hand on your head.

"I'm going to get rid of that bitch. Don't worry."

You only left the laundry room after you heard the front door slam.

He sighed resignedly.

Even with curses he didn't have the same problem as with her...

What a life with this woman...

If she knew what he did every day, she would run away from him as soon as possible.

If she knew about all the "creatures" he had killed.

After all, his job is to kill curses and ghosts. And also curse users. And some curses can have feelings.

Besides, even something trying to kill him has more feelings than she does.

"Toxic bitch..." he spat out.

He really didn't want her to come here anymore. She just ruins the rest of his day.

Besides, their relationship was destroyed about three weeks ago.

And she still thinks they're fine.

And he constantly comes or invites him somewhere. Even if she's not welcome here.

He honestly told her that he was breaking up with her.

And she came back the next day, trying to convince him that nothing had happened.

He was just a boy with money and good looks to her. Nothing else mattered to her.

And he wasn't as spoiled as she was.

He has heard many times how her friends envy her such a handsome boy. So tall.

And that he has so much money.

He was walking benefits to her.

And he noticed it the moment she showed her true nature.

Sweet and innocent at first.

Then a toxic whore trying to make him crazy.

Plus, she was also taking it out on you. Punishing you for doing your job perfectly.

You were supposed to work for him, not her.

you work for him. Not for her.

So you don't have to listen to her. Especially now that she's nothing to him.

You stood behind him, staring at the back of his head.

His shoulders slumped as he sighed heavily.

He turned to look at you.

"I don't know how many more times I have to tell her we're not together." He laughed and took a few steps closer to you. "I hate fake people."

You looked at him questioningly.

He placed his hands on your shoulders.

"It's good that I can count on you. You're not fake."

You looked at him with brighter eyes.

He was so observant of people.

He even recognized fake love.

While he tries to take care of her and she wants to use him.

"I hope you don't take what she says personally."

"... It's fine... I know she wants to make my life miserable..." you replied with a very small smile.

It was sad that you always have to listen to them argue. And also some screams will always go at you.

"You were right," he suddenly said with his trademark smile. "I should look for someone who will accept me. Even though this sentence at the very beginning seemed so sad to me, now I see that it is sooo true~."

He didn't know if he should keep looking or stop. After all, he could live as he had before. Without someone like that.

And you...

You accept it, don't you?

Scratching the back of his neck slightly, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

You looked at him with a slight blush.

He met you two years ago, and he never once saw you change.

You are still the same.

You don't want money because you reject raises.

You live your life according to your morals.

Not like Chloe.

You're not like her.

You are sweet and caring. Nice and soft. You are always there to help him or to do something. You are doing what you are supposed to do.

Bypassing what you would have to do for you.

Being in his house, you live work.

And he knew your house was in a small block and also that you lived alone.

This job for him is your way of earning a living because you only work for him.

He could pay you even more. For being with him and helping him stay mentally healthy.

Because if you hadn't been there when they were arguing, he would have done something other than scream.

But having you there stops him.

And he doesn't regret what he chose.

He knew that keeping you working for Him no longer would be a bad choice.

It was the perfect choice.

For a man like him. For someone who is considered an anomaly and a monster among sorcerers. Someone who cannot be killed. Someone you can't get rid of.

Someone who cannot be deceived and taken advantage of. Because he is smarter and stronger.

No ideals. However, he needed something to distract him from his work.

Since death, which he sees almost every day.

Especially as a special grade sorcerer.

You didn't know he was a sorcerer, and you didn't need to know.

You might think he's kinky because he has blindfolds.

But even the fact that you sometimes thought he was a weirdo was something that felt good to him.

He needed peace. The warmth of the house. A soft feeling. He needed support and love.

Something to distract him from the constant killing.

Something nice.

Seeing your face has become a daily routine for him.

And when you're gone, he worries.

You care for him. You give him what he needs.

Nice feeling.

In return, he pays you to work in his house.

Even though you give him that feeling of your own free will.

"Dinner time is approaching. Would you like something special to eat?" You asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

It was weird when he was standing in front of you staring at your face with his hand on the back of your neck. And he never took his eyes off you once.

You weren't even sure if he blinked.

It was a moment of longer seconds.

But he's never looked at you like that.

It was a look he didn't look at Chloe. As if he was thinking hard about something.

He won't fire you, will he?

You tried to break the atmosphere by asking him about dinner.

You cook for him often, so you know his culinary tastes.

He will eat practically anything.

But you don't serve him alcohol because he doesn't like it.

Even though he always has a few bottles of sweet wine in the pantry, he never drinks it.

This is where it lies if guests come to visit him.

And his guests are most often his students, who are minors.

So they drink tea, coffee, water or juice.

The wine will probably stay there for a long time.

The only thing he'll take with the alcohol is cake. But there is one condition - it cannot be felt strongly. Because according to Him, the bitter, pungent taste spoils the sweetness.

So it's simple. You bake him cakes that have nothing to do with alcohol. Same with other food.

You are not a professional cook, but by using recipes from the Internet you manage to cook something.

Let him tell you anything now...

Just to distract you from the way he looks at you.

You feel guilty about his arguments with his girlfriend.

No. She is his ex-girlfriend.

He broke up with her over the phone because she kept running away from the subject.

But she still thinks they are together.

He does not want to. So he shows it straight to her.

Oh god... You really don't want you to be the reason they broke up.

What finally happens is that he takes your side and they argue...

Always been like that.

Every time she insulted you, he took your side.

You must repay him somehow.

"...Will you make an onigiri for me?" He asked suddenly.

Now you don't know if he was thinking about this or something else...

"Of course. Would you like something right inside?" you asked, adjusting your apron.

"... I'm relying on you." He said with a smile, winking at you.

Then he adjusted his glasses on his nose.

You only know one thing about these glasses...

That he has really sensitive eyesight and apparently his eyes hurt when they are not covered.

you understand it. Someone has sensitive hearing, smell. He has a sensitive eye.

And those glasses suit him too.

"I'll take a bath and come. oh! Could you make a little more and pack for me for work tomorrow?"

"Yes." you answered.

"I have one student who loves onigiri. I'd like to give them some too." He said with a smile.

How can someone as caring as him not find someone good?

"You have a wet apron on." He said as his smile faded slightly. He pointed to the white fabric on your body.

"Oh, that's nothing. I'm going to cook anyway." You waved your hand slightly. "Prepare a bath for you, Gojo-san?"

"I'll take a quick shower and be back." He said as he started to walk away.

This man deserves more than he gets from life...

He has no family, many of his friends are gone...

Others, despite being his friends, are also sometimes annoyed.

Why does a nice man like him only get so much?

He's rich, but you don't think he cares about his wealth.

He is content with the simplest things. Homemade food, little things. Even if he likes some expensive clothes.

The people he dated always had something of the artifice.

The women he dated.

He didn't have much emotion to show...

And he didn't want to open up to anyone.

Then why does his mood change so much when he talks to you?

                            "I'm stupid." He laughed from sitting on the floor of the large shower, a smile on his lips as his eyes were closed.

Feeling the warm water run through his hair and over his skin.

"To you, I'm probably a goddamn playboy who fucks everything I like..."

Even though he said it out loud with a smile and a soft chuckle, there was a little pain in his voice.

Because it was true.

He didn't trust people. He didn't get into relationships. He simply provided an outlet for his needs.

But he also needs trust...

Someone will trust him, but he will not completely trust anyone.

You spend your days at his house and you're not a lying person. You only lie about what's wrong with you.

It's up to you to work for him.

He trusted you.

You will probably never share his feelings because you know him. You know what kind of man he is. You know what he really is. And he's probably not your ideal man.

Money is important in life...

People pay to receive affection...

So maybe he could also pay you to give him some affection?

He wanted home warmth, security and love.

Pleasant moments. Not only sexual pleasure. He wanted pleasant moments spent with a smile on his face.

Maybe if he paid you more and asked for even a fake relationship, maybe you'd agree?

He's happy to come home from work when he knows you're there, waiting for him with lunch.

With the relaxing sight of your smile.

It's easy to say you're friends.

But he would like you to be at his house all the time. When he wanted a feeling of warmth.

He was able to provide you with everything you need.

Everyone would ever give in to money... He wanted you to do it too, and maybe you'd accept money from him to pretend you love him...

There's also a chance you won't agree.

His cunning made his shower last even longer.

He didn't know there was a scene he should know about.

"Chloe-san? I didn't think you'd come back—" You said as the girl pushed the door open to go inside.

Her boots and coat were dripping with water and mud from the rain outside.

"Shut up. Where is Satoru?" She cut you off and gave you the coat again to hang it up.

"Takes a bath." you answered normally.

"No difference. What are you doing for dinner?" She replied indifferently, taking a seat at the table and pulling out her phone.

"Gojo-san asked for onigiri."

"That's disgusting... I want a fresh Parisian roll." she growled.

"Gojo-san wants an onigiri." You replied directly.

"Tch... I really don't understand why he keeps you here if you can't follow simple instructions! He's probably paying you to be his fuckhole. I can't believe he fell so low...

Does she really think you're here as a prostitute?

"I'm doing what Gojo-san asked me to do. Since he asked me to cook it, I'll do it."

"Fine! Make me some jasmine tea!"

You sighed and turned on the electric kettle, poured dried jasmine into the jug, then poured boiling water over it to make it brew.

You poured the tea into the cup you handed her.

She immediately took it into her mouth, suddenly spitting it out at you.

"You're stupid?! It's too hot!" She said standing up.

She put her fingers to her lips.

"It's tea-"

"Shut up! You can't even do that right! Who sane gives hot tea to drink!"

You gave her freshly brewed tea... I wonder why it was hot.

Maybe because you brewed it freshly.

It's not your fault she wanted to drink it right away.

Neither the Gojo nor you drink anything warm immediately after brewing, and you wait until it cools down.

And if she wants the tea to be at the right temperature right away, she demands the impossible.

"I don't want it. Take it!"

She took the plate with the cup in her hand, and instead of giving it to you gently, she handed it to you quickly and let go, causing the tea to spill over your hands.

Reflexively, to avoid more burns, you dropped it through your sore fingers, and the drink spilled onto your apron and your sleeves. Caused a brief sting, but the clothes protected your skin. Luckily it wasn't boiling water, it was hot water.

It wasn't that hot because it had cooled down a bit in the jug. But that doesn't change the fact that your hands are burning.

The cup fell to the floor shattering.

You held your red hands, and you knew she was about to scream.

But before she could, you heard a voice.

"What's going on here?"

"Satoru! Your maid gave me too hot tea! And she even dropped a cup!" She shouted pointing at you.

"It's normal for the tea to be hot at first. And I also know that what you say is not entirely true. Besides, you weren't supposed to come back here." He said, adjusting the towel around his neck.

He looked at you and your little tears in your eyes. The skin after the burn hurts.

He walked over to you and looked at your wet sleeves and apron.

He gently grabbed your reddened hands, and placing his hand on your back, he gently pulled you towards the kitchen which was right next to you, as she sat at the island kitchen table, and he turned on the cool water, gently sliding your hands under the stream.

He stood next to you, holding your smaller hands on top of his, and watched the pain in your face slowly disappear. Just like redness on the skin.

It's lucky that tea didn't hurt you enough to cause severe burns.

"She's so clumsy. You should cut her salary for that."

"I should throw you out of here now."

"What?"

"You weren't supposed to come back here."

"I came to tell you that we're not going to my cousin's party in two. I ordered us matching outfits. The package will arrive here tomorrow. When you have it, let me know." She said standing next to the chair. "Don't deal with her. The floor is dirty. Let her clean it up."

"Nobody's going to listen to you." He told her and turned off the water. "Besides, we broke up two weeks ago."

"I don't accept breaking up over the phone. It's like it doesn't exist." She looked at her nails.

He chuckled, drying your hands.

"Except for the past two weeks, I've been telling you the same thing every time we see each other. I'm not your boyfriend and I regret that I ever was."

"You can't break up with me."

"I can't. Because I already did."

"Without me you have nothing. My friends are important people."

"your friends are. And you are nobody. Do you seriously think I have nothing? Look around." He chuckled sarcastically.

A Gojo saying such things while laughing is ghastly.

"I don't want to see you in my house any longer. I don't want to see your fake face one more time. We understand each other?"

"You're so–!" She started to speak but he interrupted her.

"There's a lot you don't know about me. Get out of here before you find out something you shouldn't know."

His aura was intimidating.

Even you felt a chill hit when he said that.

Some strange energy hit you.

you shivered.

"You know what... Fuck this bitch as long as you want! I do not care! There are so many other better men than you in the world!"

"You finally understood that we're not a couple! Congratulations!" He put his hand over his eyes, laughing like a madman.

Then, seeing his behavior, she left.

He was glad he would never see her again.

"Gojo-san..." you said and looked at him.

His hand was still holding yours.

He looked at you with warm eyes and his crazy smile changed to a gentle one.

"Call me Satoru. Like I told you before."

"I'm just your maid. I-"

"You're closer to me than that fucking bitch was. And you talk to me like we're strangers."

"Sorry..."

"You have nothing to apologize for." he said laying his head on yours. Gently and comfortingly hugging you.

"Dinner will be delayed. And I broke a cup."

"I know it's her fault. Don't worry."

"But-."

He interrupted you.

"Go to my dressing room and get some clean clothes, okay?"

"I'll be home soon anyway. I'll cook you dinner and be back–."

"Nope..." he said firmly.

"I should take care of you, so let me take care of you. Why don't you stay here today?"

"I'm not sure..."

"I'll pay extra for night work."

"I have nothing to do. Unless you want me to do something else. Besides, I don't want any more money. You're paying me too much for a few hours a day anyway."

"Is that important?" he asked.

You thought he was ignoring you, but he was clearly listening to what you were saying.

You take your job seriously and honestly...

Your deal was different than what he wanted to do now.

"So stay as my guest. Take clothes from my wardrobe and feel at home. Because this is your second home, isn't it?"

You nodded.

After all, he was right.

You'll wash his clothes later and everything will be as before.

You went to his room.

He meanwhile grabbed a broom and picked up the broken glass from the floor.

When you came back, you were wearing his gray T-shirt that he wore when he was at home.

Your apron was dirty and you had to start cooking. So you took a T-shirt that you know isn't new.

What would happen if you ruined his expensive T-shirt?

He watched you go to the kitchen.

He saw you weren't wearing new pants.

You told him your pants weren't dirty.

His phone rang and he told you right away it was from his job.

You started making the onigiri the way he wanted.

You had some more work ahead of you because he wanted to take some for the students.

That's why you prepared more rice and other ingredients.

He didn't come back to the kitchen after someone called, and you're guessing he's still talking. Someone calls him often.

But you did your job anyway.

You prepared everything as it was supposed to be, packing the excess into boxes.

You left some for him and waited for him to come back.

According to what you had, you ate with him. So you took two onigiri while eating this.

He still hasn't come back.

It was getting late...

You started washing the dishes you used to prepare the food.

As you were rinsing your plate, very suddenly you felt and saw his hands wrap around your waist.

A common thing when he wanted to tease you or scare you.

He appeared in front of you without a sound.

"How are your hands?" he asked as he watched you wipe the plate and set it aside.

"I'm fine. It's not hurt." you replied while continuing your work.

He was a man of no barriers and often invaded your private space when you became friends.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." You smiled. It's nice that he cares about you. "The onigiri for you for dinner are in the fridge. I didn't know when you were coming to eat."

"And you?"

"I already ate. I wanted to wait for you, but you didn't come. So substantial. I made about 20 extra."

"Thanks."

He was kind of quiet now... It was a different behavior than usual.

He didn't show you his face.

"Is everything OK?" you asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah..."

You felt something was wrong.

He wasn't sad about what happened. For those three weeks they often quarreled when she suddenly came when he didn't want to see her.

Now it was different.

Maybe he was sorry that she hurt you?

So yes, hot tea on the skin is definitely painful. But not that much.

It was quiet, and he suddenly reached for the faucet, turning off the water as you rinsed the next plate.

You turned your head to the side, looking at the side of his face.

He wasn't smiling. Which only showed that he didn't do it for fun.

"I was looking for someone sweet and nice because I'm used to the way you treat me." He said suddenly.

"Huh?" You groaned as you felt the heat on your cheeks and in your chest.

"I forgot that I don't need to look for someone like this. Because I can have a person close to me who is a perfect match for these characteristics. You are sweet and kind. And it's because of you that I want to feel it. I want to know that there is someone like that with me. Sweet and nice. Why should I look when the perfect person is already next to me?

"I–" you blushed.

"I'll pay you. Double salary. Triple. I'll pay you whatever you want."

You widened your eyes. You didn't know what to say at all.

"I'll give you what you want. For you to be with me as you are now, but in a relationship."

Love can't be bought...

He knew about it.

But he also knew he could pay you to be with him. As it has been for two years.

He paid you because that's how you worked.

It won't be a real relationship, but he'll know then that he's coming back to the warmth of home. To someone who will be waiting for him there.

Even if you don't fall in love with him that way.

Love cannot be bought.

But you can buy fake love.

You may not love him, but he wants you to at least pretend to love him.

That you at least treat him as if you were in love with him.

So he could live the lie he arranged to find what he was looking for.

Since there is no one who can love him for who he is, he can at least make someone pretend to love him.

It was hard for him to say it before, but he fell in love with you.

But he can't force you to love him.

That's why he wanted the person he loved to at least pretend to love him. It would be better than living in a relationship that would never work out.

"... Satoru, I..."

"I'll pay you to be with me..."

Everyone needs money.

You too.

But you don't want to accept that kind of money from him...

Not like this...

You heard the desperation in his voice.

You could never accept such an offer...

Not so...

You don't want to make money off of him by giving him a fake relationship...

You don't want to give him a fake relationship for making him pay you a lot...

You can't do this to him...

He is someone who was close to you... But you didn't want it that way.

"...I can't...I can't like this..."

His grip on your waist lessened.

"I'm sorry..." he said. "I'm sorry I even suggested it... I could have guessed you'd say no... You're not the kind of person who would do anything for money..."

He suddenly turned you to him, and you saw his sad face.

Tears welled up in your eyes just seeing him.

But he suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, placing you on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

"At least let me be with you as much as I want. For this one moment..."

Before you could react, his lips were pressed against yours.

He expected you to push him away. That you hit him.

But you stay still.

Without moving.

You let him kiss you.

And as he pulled away, he saw tears welling up in your eyes.

"Oh no... I'm sorry... It was so sudden... Please don't cry, I don't want you to cry. It's my fault... I didn't mean to impose anything on you." He said quickly and started wiping away your peacefully flowing tears.

With his hands on your cheeks, he thought he was the worst person...

He shouldn't have done that...

"Forget I did that... that I said that..."

"...No..." You placed your hands over his, with a soft whisper. "I won't forget what you did..."

"I..." he began, but didn't say anything until his next words came out. So a long while later. "I don't know what love is... I never knew. But I'd like to tell you that I love you... Because that's probably what I feel for you..."

Her eyes widened at what he said. He tightened his fingers on his hands and your lips turned into a slight smile.

But still a crying smile.

"(y/n)..."

"I never expected to hear those words from you..."

"I know I suck... I know my character is fucking not what you to like... But don't let me live in suspense. Just honestly tell me that you don't want me around."

He was used to not having anyone close to him.

He probably also experienced it when someone told him that they did not love him.

He's already suffered a loss. So he's probably going to be heartbroken now too.

"Just tell me and I'll try to make everything back to how it used to be..." He rested his forehead against yours.

"Why can't you just shut up..." You cried.

You grabbed his neck holding him and put your mouth on his.

He opened your mouth with his, feeling the sign that you let him.

And he connected your lips more demandingly than gently.

He pulled away, keeping his tongue slightly sticking out, watching your tongues connect with a thin string of saliva.

You lowered your head, hiding your red face.

"To means..." he said.

You had your hands on his shoulders.

"...Don't ask me if I'll be with you for money no more! If I can do it for free...!"

His eyes lit up when he heard that.

And then he moved closer to you, hugging you.

A strange weight fell from his chest.

And let you cry your tears on his shoulder.

You didn't know when, but you found yourself in his bedroom.

And he was there to lie down gently on the bed.

And pin you to the mattress with my hands next to your head. Still keeping your thighs on his hips like when you were sitting on the kitchen counter.

He opened your mouth with his thumb, using his tongue to play with yours.

His other hand reached for your stomach, pulling the hem of his shirt up against your body.

"Can I?"

It was the first time he could say he had sex.

Before, he was just fucking.

Today it was different.

The way he gently held your body as his hips hit yours as he stood behind you.

Your hands on the bed so you don't fall.

Your hand sometimes grabs the hand that held your waist before he wrapped his forearm around you.

He then held you upright, letting your hand rest on his hand on your waist and the other placed on his hip as he continued to move his hips like that.

Quickly but gently.

Making you crumble beneath him as his tip digs into your cervix.

You've never seen him naked in such an exposed way.

You never touched him the way you touch him now.

You've never felt the way his big cock straightens your insides, carving his shape into you.

You're supposed to wrap it perfectly, because you'll be doing it more often.

In your house. So here.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against the bed. You looked down and saw moisture running down your thighs. The combination of your juices with his saliva when he made you orgasm for the first time.

He was experienced. You noticed it. But he didn't get tired of the soft way you moaned and shivered under him. Letting him use your body.

He wanted you to do that for him endlessly.

You never knew your employer had such a big dick.

You couldn't even think about the fact that he had other women in bed before you.

But none of them were with him like you are.

That day you were fired from your job.

At your own request.

Because you wouldn't be able to take money from him since what you're doing is for both of you.

Just like what you're doing now.

Your Clit was swollen as he reached out to rub you.

Adding a little more to the moans.

His bangs were combed to one side as his hair was sticky with sweat.

He didn't want to end it quickly.

He wanted to enjoy your first time together as long as he could.

So he took his time.

He was firm in pounding your hips, but he wasn't doing it to please him.

He always wanted to please him, and by the way the partner he had then.

And now, he wanted to give you pleasure. So he pushed with his hips to hit those points that make you moan the loudest.

He pressed his hips against you to see how well you held him and tightened inside.

To move his cock inside you again later.

To also pull it out and then put it back inside you, watching your pussy expand as much to take it in.

But you took it so well.

Every part of your body was perfectly made to fit his body.

Any mark on your skin, any blemish, it didn't matter. Because your whole body suited him.

Something that doesn't lie. It's not fake. It's not artificial...

It is not possible to buy with money.

Especially when you fell on the bed with your ass up while his cock was still embedded in you. You fell as he momentarily let go of you to shove his length into you as he slid out.

Teasing your sensitive points and clitoris, you clenched on him as you received an orgasm that took the strength from your legs. And he didn't catch you before you lay on the bed, just sticking your ass out to him. Because you felt the constant pleasure coming from his thick length inside you.

He wanted more.

He wanted to know you were his.

Right now and you will.

Pulling his cock slowly out of your thirsty hole, he gently lifted you up, positioning your body on your back, head below the pillows.

He placed your hips on his thighs, slapping the tip against your sensitive clit several times.

Before he pushed himself into you, reaching a new low. Your calves on his biceps as he pushed at a fast pace.

You looked at him with hazy eyes. Sensitive.

But you didn't tell him to stop.

You didn't want him to stop. Not when it's so good...

He kissed you almost all the time. His thrusts became sloppy.

His hands around you as he thrusts into you like there's no end to it.

As he made low grunts into your mouth, and low moans.

Filling your mouth with it the same way it filled your pussy.

He felt warm. Inside and outside.

He didn't want to give away the wonderful feeling of warmth you gave him and you are giving him even more now.

#jjk #gojo satoru #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut

[josephquinnswhore]

Hello

I’ve had this idea for a while :}

What if reader and Pedro had a la la land moment when they break up and then reunir two years later at an awards show and realize they still have feelings for each other

Like right person wrong time :>

Finding Our Way Back

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.

Summary: you and Pedro rekindle your relationship after seeing him at an award show, it’s been two years since you’ve separated and he looks better than ever.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: allusions to reader that worked in a shit workplace, fluff.

Note: thanks so much for requesting. Thought I’d do the MTV awards since he’s nominated and I’ve already written about Pedro at the Oscars! I hope you love it 🫶🏼

As an interviewer for Vanity Fair, you knew it was highly likely that you’d run into your ex boyfriend, Pedro Pascal at the MTV awards as he was nominated with Bella Ramsay in the category “best duo,” after his latest role as Joel Miller. Although things had ended amicably on both ends, it had been two years ago since you split; your maturity, respect and the love you still had for him played a part in that clean break. You wanted to beg for him to stay with you, to try and make things work; but he was having a big breakthrough in his career and you couldn’t be selfish with him, after decades of his hard work to get to where he is now, so you let go. After years of smaller roles, despite you reassuring him he was incredible in all roles he played, he knew this one would change his life, working on a project with his idol Nick Cage.

Funnily enough, being in this situation was how you met. You standing at an event in a dress that was too tight and itchy on your skin, waiting to interview the nominees for this award show. Although all those years ago you didn’t work for such a well known, respected company as VF.

You worked for a small company called For You Entertainment, they were working their way up the ladder attending small events with D-List celebrities when your producer thankfully got you a breakthrough, an interview with the cast of Narcos at the end of season 2 premiere. You were nervous and fidgeting with your lilac sequin dress that was so tight you were cursing your stylist internally for making you wear clothing that was a size too small for your waist. Your lungs felt heavy as they couldn’t inhale fully, the feeling of being claustrophobic in your own skin was dizzying, along with the sweatiness of your hands and the bright light from your film crew, it was all too much. A staff member from the event, led Pedro to you and you knew you were screwed, the knowing look in those chocolate brown eyes, he knew how anxious you were feeling, he read you instantly. Your co-workers were ready to begin filming when Pedro held his hand up, signalling for the men to stop momentarily, and they did.

“Hey, I’m Pedro. It’s so nice to meet you…”

His hand meets your own as you introduce yourself, he catches the wobble in your voice as your confidence plummets to the ground beneath your heels. He offers a kind smile and you’re enamoured by how kind he’s being, how gentle and attentive he is; he was doing whatever he could to make you comfortable.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky breath and huff out a small laugh,

“this is my first ever interview with like, a real celebrity and you’re my celebrity crush. Plus this dress is a size too small which they picked on purpose, something about making my boobs perkier.”

The speed at which your mouth rambles leaves your brain unable to comprehend the words that leave them for a few seconds, the moment you register what you say your eyes are wide and Pedro is laughing sweetly.

“It’s a pleasure to be here with you, don’t be nervous, I think you look stunning. You can do this, I’m here to help you make things go smoothly! Shall we?”

How wrong he was, he wasn’t just like any other guy, that’s what drew you in, he sucked you into his orbit, the gravity holding you down to him. Alas, you agree to start the interview. Your nerves somewhat shaken and cheeks a deep shade of red, along with a tingle of heat on your face you’d never experienced prior to Pedro’s flattery.

“Let’s do this.”

You bare a shy grin and give the camera man a thumbs up as they prepare to start the interview.

There was nothing wrong with your relationship with Pedro. It had just seemed like the relationship had run it’s course through the years. You were studying and working full time, 60 hours a week you were in a chokehold of being underpaid and overworked, being younger, new to the industry and vulnerable, you let your boss expose you to the cruelty of the profession when you had several employees that treated you like a doormat. Pedro had always insisted he hated how much you worked for them; how terribly they treated you and crushed your potential within months, that you could achieve more.

Pedro has just gotten a main role in “the unbearable weight of massive talent” when things fell apart, he was incredibly hard working and committed to his work life, the man that was practically married to his career left you in a position of what felt like roommates more than actual lovers. The conversation was hard and you almost didn’t go through with it; you knew you’d regret it but it was necessary, you couldn’t live like this anymore. You missed the intimacy and the connection, feeling like you were in a loveless relationship even though you loved him endlessly.

He had gotten home from a long day of filming, body slumped as he walked through the door, hours and hours on end of filming had him exhausted, he was surprised to see you sitting on the couch with the light and tv on when he walked through the front door.

“Hey, you’re up?”

The confusion in his voice was evident and you inhaled a shaky breath, turning to face him, you nearly backed out of your plan like a coward. Instead you invite him to sit next to you.

“Yeah, we need to talk, will you come sit?”

Pedro’s thick eyebrows are pinched in a frown, looking his age when the wrinkles in his face become evident. The lounge dips as he sits next to you, his large hand on your knee as his brown eyes watch you.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice is cautious and you just exhale, not questioning your own judgment.

“I think it would be in both our favours if we part ways, I’d prefer if we could do this amicably and still be friends afterwards. There’s no connection or intimacy anymore, we’re both too busy. Maybe if,” you sigh loudly unable to find the courage to finish the sentence. Luckily, Pedro knows what you’re thinking.

“If we were at a different stage in life, right?”

He finishes the thought in your head and you nod, fat tears falling down your face, his arms are quick to pull you into a hug, your head rests on his shoulder and he kisses the back of your head.

“I still love you, maybe things will work out for us one day, hm?”

You chuckle, the noise wet as you choke back your tears, “that would be a dream wouldn’t it?”

Having worked for Vanity Fair for the past 12 months, you had met some well known A-list celebrities, some in which would be here tonight at the mtv awards, some people attending not as well known but still nonetheless attending and perfectly deserving of your attention. Your black cocktail dress hugged your figure perfectly, hair pulled upward and styled neatly. Your faces natural beauty was accentuated by the light make up that had been carefully applied by the companies make up artist. The shades of pink and gold on your eyelids were glistening in the lights that shone a bright white overhead as you stood in the middle of the walkway right before the entry to the building where the awards were being held.

Your manager had warned you sympathetically that Pedro was one person you’d be interviewing, it didn’t take much reassuring on your behalf to assure her that although and and Pedro hadn’t really spoken since you broke up; besides the yearly birthday messages and him liking your Instagram posts, that things were okay between you and you were happy to interview him.

When you see him, he’s looking as handsome as ever. His brown hair had a few greying strands on the side of his head near his temples. The purple suit he wears clings to his body and he wears it with finesse, the grapefruit colour makes his skin look its glowing in a golden light, the suit hangs off his broad shoulders with no room to spare. A small heart-shaped patch in his black and grey beard was still failing to fill with hair on the left side of his face. He smiles so widely when he sees you, quickening his casual pace to a speed walk to bump his body into yours, wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you into a hug, his big muscles bulging against your dress-clad skin. You accept the hug and pull him into you, squeezing him as your arms wrap around the back of his neck, the cologne he wears compliments the natural musk of him that you recognise and miss so dearly.

You fight the urge to look at his plump lips a second time, the shade of pink whispered sweet words to draw you into him like a hypnotist, threatening you to kiss him against your will. He pulls back and stands tall next to you, he towers over you, even in your 3 inch heels.

“Pedro Pascal, what a warm welcome. Thank you so much for joining us this evening.” You greet warmly, holding the microphone between the small gap between your bodies, he misses the redness on your cheeks as he grins so widely his dimple exposes itself.

“Thank you for having me, it’s so great to be here, and it’s so great to see you, look at you, you’re looking stunning this evening.” He stands a little too close to you than he does anyone else that’s trying to get an interview from him, his fondness of you showing through the camera that records you.

“You always were a charmer weren’t you. This suit is incredible, you’re looking dapper tonight.” Your free hand that isn’t holding the mic gently runs a hand down his suit, keeping your hand on his chest, getting a feel for the material. You grin at the redness of his cheeks before getting to what the fans really want.

“Now, there is something your fans are begging me to address. As the self proclaimed biggest daddy on the internet, are your fans all your children?” Pedro laughs, the sound is ringing in your ears like the most delightful song you’ve ever heard. He takes the microphone from you and turns to the camera, “yes, you are all my children. I will warn you, grogu may get a little jealous.”

“That’s so sweet, why do you think you chose these roles that have you as basically a father figure?” You muse, eyes batting unintentionally as you’re drawn into his charming character. “I mean, truthfully I would love to have kids someday. Since that’s not an option right now I’m opting for the role of playing dad.” Your heart starts racing, both in awe and disappointment, knowing you would never be the one to bare his children, as his girlfriend or wife, you had missed your opportunity years ago.

“Now we do have a question that a lot of people are begging us to ask you and who are we to deny them?Does Joel Miller in the tv series meet the same fate as the game?” Pedro bares his teeth in a grimace and looks directly into the camera. “It’s going to be almost exactly the same, sorry kids.” He shrugs casually before turning back to you.

“Well Pedro it’s been such a delight to talk with you this evening, we’re wishing you and Bella the best to win an award, have a wonderful evening!” Pedros hands cross in front of his torso, fumbling with the silver ring that sits on his pinky. “Of course it’s amazing to see you. Thank you, have a great night.” He waves to you sweetly as he walks off with a staff member that’s leading him into the building. You stop filming and let out a big sigh.

“How are you feeling?” Your cameraman Andrew asks, “I’m okay, just feels like an open wound still, I guess.” He offers a sympathetic smile, “you did great. That was an awesome interview, everyone’s going to love it. Your chemistry is off the charts.”

You silently agree. The chemistry was still there, maybe you should just, text him later as a “it was so good to see you” curtesy text. Regardless of how terrible he was at texting, it would show you made an effort.

It’s been hours since you saw and spoke to Pedro, his image ingrained in your brain every time you close your eyes, where you’re normally met with blackness this night you’re met with his smile, the smell of his natural musk, the scent of his cologne lingered on your own skin as if he lie next to you. The heaviness of his hands as he hugged you felt as if he was still touching you, it made you restless. You were struggling to sleep even when the streets below your apartment began turning off their lights, one by one you seemed to be the only one wide awake in the neighbourhood.

11:28pm. After changing your mind about half a dozen times on what to write, you settle on something kind and friendly, and you send the text: “it was so good to see you tonight, you look great.”

To your surprise it’s barely a minute before he replies: “it was such a pleasure to see you, can I ask you something?”

Your heart is racing as you can barely think about what he could possibly ask, you assure him: “of course, anything.”

The bubble comes up as if he’s typing, then disappears. You grown as you watch him type and delete this message before it finally comes through after a few minutes: “going to bed anytime soon?”

You raise an eyebrow to yourself and whisper, “seriously that’s what took you so long?” And reply to him: “nope, wide awake.”

“Want some company? I can bring coffee.” You rub your eyes in disbelief, wondering if this is real or an illusion.

“Please do. You know how I like it.” You send through your address as you’ve moved to a newer and slightly bigger apartment in the last year. “Be there soon.” He replies without a moments notice.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself as you rush to the bathroom, attempting to make yourself look presentable, brushing your hair down neatly before braiding it, smoothing out your pyjamas and turning on some lights in the living room as you turn on the tv to Disney Plus turning on Moana as you attempt to sit comfortably.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you get an alert on your phone that someone’s outside, you check your phone, seeing Pedro standing in black pants, a white shirt and a large black trench-coat, a cardboard cup holder in hand with two Starbucks coffees occupying the space. You smooth out your pyjamas once again and unlock the two locks to your front door, feeling winded as you see your ex boyfriend standing there looking as beautiful as ever with a shy smile on his face.

You open the door and step to the side, “please, come in.” He shudders slightly from the breeze that drafts in from outside, your house abnormally warm and the feeling is welcome on his cold skin. “You have a nice place here. How long ago did you move in?” You take the coffees and sit them down in the cup holders in your lounge as he takes off his trench-coat, the atmosphere too warm for the accessory. “Coming up 12 months now. Right after I started working for Vanity Fair.”

You gesture for Pedro to sit on the lounge after he hands his coat on the coat hanger by the door, he keeps a respectable space between you, unlike earlier in the evening where he stood entirely too close. “Moana always was your favourite.” Pedro muses to himself. “Somethings never change.” You reply with a shrug, the statement having a double meaning behind it.

“Yeah, I guess. What’s new in your life anyway. Other than work and all the formalities?” He questions, the hopeful look in his eye beams as you sink comfortably into the grey couch, “nothing really, I’m quite boring these days. The same girl you know.” You sip your coffee and hum in contentment, missing the way Pedro whispered “and love.” After your statement, “thanks so much for the coffee, it’s perfect. It’s any wonder you still remember,” you admit.

“How could I forget my girls coffee order?” Pedro freezes, realisation of what he said sinks in. “I mean, I meant- I didn’t..” he stutters and you rest your hand on his, trying to diffuse his panicked state. “It’s okay, I’ve missed you you know. Seeing you tonight made me realise how much I never got over you.” The admission has both of your skin burning with desire and slight embarrassment. “You feel that way?” His voice is sweet, you wish he would just talk to you all night, you’d simply sit and listen.

“Of course I do. I’ve always loved you Pedro.” Just like that the bomb has dropped, the elephant in the room is too large and suffocating to ignore, you still love him, years later you still love him.

“I’ve been needing to hear that for such a long time. I love you, I was a fool to let you go,” you lean into the warmth of Pedro’s hand as he caresses your face, your heart rate spiking at his touch and confession. “We can always just.. pick up where we left off,” you offer sweetly. Pedro’s eyes raise at your offer, the ball was in his court and he was going to take it. Without another word he pulls you into him, your lips smashing into his, moulding together like two unique puzzle pieces that were made for each other.

You part your lips and grant him access to deepen the kiss, years of unspoken love and missing each other all came to surface with this kiss. When you pull apart you’re both heaving, foreheads pressed together you stare into his chocolate orbs. “Please be mine. I don’t think I could go another day knowing you’re not mine.” You exhale a shaky breath, the taste of him still on your lips, “I was always yours Pedro. We just had to find out way back.” Pedro’s thumb strokes your cheek and let’s put a small laugh, almost in relief. “I’m grateful we did. Everything feels right again.”

You nod as you silently agree with him, the hole left empty now felt overfilled, you knew your cup would never be empty again with Pedro by your side again, “stay the night.” Your nose grazes his cheek as you whisper. He pulls you into his lap, strong arms holding you in place as he kisses your shoulder. “When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

“I’ll teach you how to stop being such a people pleaser one day you know.” You jest lightly. “As long as I have you, none of that even matters, baby.” You turn to kiss him, the intoxicating sweetness of his lips is almost impossible to pull away from. “You’ll always have me. Promise.” A few moments of silence pass before you ask, “did you win the award?” Pedro hums before he realises what you’ve said, pulling his eyes away from the tv, “yeah we did, Bella was stoked, it was such a big moment for them.” You lean into his chest, smiling in content with how perfectly things were falling into place.

#Pedro pascal #mtv awards #Pedro pascal as Joel miller #Pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x fem reader #Pedro pascal rpf #Pedro pascal x ex girlfriend #right person wrong time #Pedro pascal x interviewer reader

[darsynia]

Hand(s) Off | Ch 2: Ecstasy

(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)

STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: Steve's loved hearing about you from Bucky. He doesn't want anything to derail the progress his best friend has made toward being a whole person again, which is why he's going to use every ounce of his slowly-deteriorating willpower to resist touching you, tasting you, taking you. After all, he's just met you, and his own integrity, not to mention Bucky's trust, is important to him.

Neither of you are prepared for the catch.

Length | Warnings: 2,841 | Explicit sexual situations (they don't succeed in resisting, folks), MINORS DNI

Note: I want to make clear that I’m treating the issues of consent with sensitivity, as you'll hopefully see in this chapter!

Fill: Adoptable 'Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo

Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan

Excerpt:

“I’m-- wow, this is intense,” you say next. 

There’s a little cry to the last word. You are clearly affected by Mistress too, and Steve feels both grateful and guilty about how relieved he is about that. This is a moral catastrophe, but you’re in this mess together, sort of. Anything less and Bucky would demand the right to kick his ass.

Hell, he probably still will.

“Take--” He stops himself. “Why don’t you take it off?” 

“Nice catch,” you praise, leading him to buck his hips up. “Only if you take your shorts off, too. Fair’s fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair,” he growls out, getting up. Steve takes everything off because, fuck yes, access is what he needs right now. It’s a testament to how ruled he is by the drug in his system that it doesn’t even feel wrong to be wearing just a shirt in the room with you.

Ecstasy

Steve had known about you for a while now. He had been picturing you as a gorgeous pin-up, a dream woman, someone who could bridge the gap between 1940’s Bucky and the shadowed self his best friend had become. With everything Bucky’s told him about you, that impression had been reinforced.

Now he’s looking at you, your eyes wide, body a shapeless mass under the blanket, and he can’t help but wonder what you’ve heard from Bucky’s stories, from the footage of the attack on New York, from interviews since. Do you think he stands for integrity, kindness, justice? Can any of that possibly survive the unbearable need he’s feeling right now?

“I’m going to cover my face with this blanket, okay? Two layers of it.” You do that, waving a hand in front of your own face to check that it’s fully opaque. “You came here to change out of those wet clothes, don’t let me stop you!” You’re right, but Steve simply cannot picture that. Not with you in the room. “I tell you what: I’ll-- I’ll hum one of the songs I’ve been practicing for this weekend’s set, okay? That way I won’t be able to hear you.”

You’d said ‘hum,’ but the sultry notes resonating from under your blanket shouldn’t be described that way. Steve wrestles himself out of the soaked button-down and undershirt and chooses a white tank top for comfort. His temperature has to be in actual fever territory, and without any… relief, that’s hardly going to change.

When he unzips his pants, the humming gets louder, and Steve can’t help it, he rubs himself with the heel of his hand. He wonders if you’re sitting under that blanket with your eyes shut, picturing him undressing. Recognizing his own lowered inhibitions, he hurries up, stripping down completely in favor of getting every ounce of the drug away from body contact.

He’s pulling on a pair of shorts when you stop.

“Oh, I wanted to say, Cap--”

“Use ‘Steve,’” he says quickly. “I don’t want memories of--”

“Oh, God, you’re right. Sorry,” you groan in interruption.

It takes all his self-discipline not to respond to the need in that groan, squeezing his wet clothes so tightly they drip onto the carpet. You can’t see him, so you’re already continuing. 

“I was going to say, you should bury those clothes in the hamper or a drawer or something, because I’m, uh, getting the equivalent of secondhand smoke, here.”

Steve distracts himself from that worrisome development by burying the clothes in his basket as if it were a mission. When he turns around, you’re standing, the blanket draped around you like a shield.

“Is this stuff dangerous at your dose? Should we break you out of here?” you ask, eyes wide.

“Breaking out would kill you.” He’d thought of that already. “The next level of security is enough nerve gas to incapacitate a super soldier. Today’s testing was to find out what’s safe.”

“At least they’ll get some data,” you muse. “Fuck, this blanket is getting hot-- I have an idea of how to survive this, but in case that fails, I’m sure Bucky already told you about my fifteen-minute adoring rave about your ass?” 

He cannot fathom why you would say that. “Uh…”

“Never mind,” you say, wiping sweat off of your chin with the back of a hand. It looks like you’re right about being affected by the drug; Banner had said it was capable of being aerosolized. “So, we’re trapped here, yes?”

“Yes, but I have no intentions of touching you,” Steve says, using his Command voice, as much as he hates the cross-contamination. To his surprise, your eyes grow fierce.

“Well, I have no intentions of being the bitch so unappealing that Captain America would rather die than touch her with Mistress in his system, so why don’t you hear me out?”

Stunned and slightly impressed, Steve puts his hands up. “I didn’t think of that. Go on.”

You pull the blanket closer around yourself. You’d said you were too hot, so this is vulnerability, and it makes him feel protective. That’s some cross-contamination too, but it can’t be helped.

“Okay, if we’re not touching each other then we’ll have to touch ourselves, and we’re in this tiny room.” You walk over to the bed and point to the floor on either side of it, saying, “I suggest we each pick a side, flip the light off, and talk each other through it. It’ll be less intimate without the visuals, and maybe we can each pretend it’s a phone conversation on speaker?”

“With the bed as a natural barrier?” 

“Yeah.”

Steve can already picture you seated on that blanket on the floor, head thrown back against the mattress, hands moving out of sight. It’s a compelling image. He clenches his jaw, pulling in too much air to give himself a different discomfort to distract himself with.

“Good thought. You stay on the door side. I’ll head over to the other side and stay there.”

“I don’t think you want to ‘soldier’ this, Steve,” you say, your voice softening to a whisper on his name like you have to force yourself to say it.

“Not sure I can stop,” Steve admits, propelling himself over to the wall on ‘his side.’ “Better get the light. This is…” he stops, needing to slow his breathing. All he can see when he closes his eyes is you slowly pulling the fabric of your dress up--

The light clicks off, plunging the room in darkness.

“Wow. I was expecting the darkness to feel comforting, but…” you say.

“Just sit down, shut your eyes,” Steve says-- and it’s all wrong. His voice is harsh, almost annoyed. He is annoyed. He should be better than this, but… “I’m sorry,” he says aloud. He’s apologizing to himself as much as to you.

“Me too,” you whisper, adding a little grateful noise that has Steve setting his forehead on the back wall. “Besides being very glad I can drop that blanket, I have no idea what I’m doing. Do we talk about ourselves? Each other?”

The taboo of the situation combined with the desire running through Steve’s body like wildfire weakens him to a kneel. This is the best outcome of a terrible situation, he tries to tell himself, but it doesn’t feel like that. Not with the prospect of that sultry tone of yours talking him through it.

“Steve?” You sound worried, alone.

“I’m here,” Steve hurries to say. “Got… distracted. Tell me what you’re doing, what you’re feeling? I still have to work on the command tone thing.” He moves to slump back against the side of the bed.

“You realize you’re still taking charge by not taking charge, yeah?” you say, more confident now, thank God.

“Would it help if you pretend we’ll die if one of us stops talking?”

“Spoken like a true Avenger,” you laugh. It’s throaty, affected, and Steve rests his hand on his lap, presses down. Yes. “Okay, I’m burning up. Inside and out. Even with short sleeves and a skirt.”

Steve makes a ‘Mmm’ noise without even meaning to, his palm rocking against his crotch.

“I’m-- wow, this is intense,” you say next. 

There’s a little cry to the last word. You are clearly affected by Mistress too, and Steve feels both grateful and guilty about how relieved he is about that. This is a moral catastrophe, but you’re in this mess together, sort of. Anything less and Bucky would demand the right to kick his ass.

Hell, he probably still will.

“Take--” He stops himself. “Why don’t you take it off?” 

“Nice catch,” you praise, leading him to buck his hips up. “Only if you take your shorts off, too. Fair’s fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair,” he growls out, getting up. Steve takes his underwear off too because, fuck yes, access is what he needs right now. It’s a testament to how ruled he is by the drug in his system that it doesn’t even feel wrong to be wearing just a shirt in the room with you. With some of the last logical coherence he has left, he grabs a tube of lube out of his bedside drawer.

There are condoms there too, but he won’t be needing them.

“No touching yet!” you call out, right as Steve slides a slick fist along his own length. It feels like the first time he’s ever done it right.

“Who’s giving the orders?”

“You don’t want to leave me behind, do you?”

“I don’t, I promise,” Steve groans. 

He collapses onto his knees at the bed, practically praying for release. The mattress shakes, and he can see the whole scene in his mind; you’re scrambling to pull the dress off over your head. He almost doesn’t recognize himself in his own thoughts, but that doesn’t stop them. Do your bra or panties have any lace? What color are they? 

“What color?” he rasps aloud, before he can stop himself. Despite what you said, his hand falls back to his cock, gripping but not moving. Even that is intensely pleasurable, but it’s the best he can do.

“Are you asking about what I took off or what I’m still wearing?” you ask.

Playful. Steve’s lost. He’s lost, because you sound joyful despite the situation. This is working, your plan, but he can’t help but feel like he’s trespassing. He should know so much more about you before getting to talk about your underclothes. That thought spirals, predictably, to the kinds of things women used to wear in his own time: hidden garter ribbons, the proliferation of skirts, the--

“Steve, if you’re going to ask questions like that, you ought to listen to the answers. It’s only polite.”

“You answered?”

“I described them. What were you doing?”

His hips jerk forward into his waiting fist, and it’s so sweet and hot and not enough that Steve gasps. “I think you know.”

“God, your voice is rough right now, do you know that?” you ask in a voice that’s rough too. “I’m sliding down the straps of my black lace bra so they pull on my arms.”

“Where are your hands?” One of his is moving slowly, deliberately.

“I’m--” The bedframe shakes slightly, and when you speak again, your voice is muffled like you’d thrown yourself face-first onto the bed. “I’m in flames, but it just hit me where I am and who you are!”

It strikes him that no woman will ever forget who he is ever again, not even in the throes of a mind-altering chemical.

“I’m just a guy, Dee,” he says, turning to sit on the floor again. “I always was. Just a guy who wants to help, to do good.” He’s not doing good right now, saying these kinds of things to someone he cannot drive away from Bucky, but those qualms are fuzzy and indistinct.

“I think I need you to talk now.”

Most of what leaps to mind is filthy, for all that his thoughts move as slow as molasses. “If you slide your hand inside your panties and cup yourself, will both sides of your hand be wet?”

“Fuck, what a question!” Your low groan makes him really want to taste its resonance on the outside of your throat. The mattress moves slightly, just enough to signal to Steve that you’re reaching down. “Y-yes.”

His own hand is moving faster, twisting, the heat of the drug in his system setting fire to every inhibition and replacing the ash with pleasure. “How do you like to be touched?” he manages to ask.

The words hang between the two of you for awhile. Finally, you tell him, using a breathy moan that makes clear that you’re acting out the actions as you speak. His orgasm strikes not long after, and Steve doubles over with the force of it, vocalizing in ways he usually never allows himself to do.

“I loved listening to that.” Your voice has a whine to it, a desperation he totally recognizes.

“It’s your turn,” he says, reaching over and grabbing his pillow to remove the case and wipe himself off with it.

“It smells like-- fuck, that’s so intimate, I--”

“I wish I could smell you,” Steve blurts out, feeling himself harden again. He’d expected that, maybe not quite so quickly, but he's a super soldier overdosing on Mistress.

You let out a gasp, and he leans back against the mattress to feel that it’s shaking, shaking with the rhythmic movements of your arm. You’re right, this is almost unbearably intimate, but right now that’s the best thing ever, with all the possible objections lost behind a haze of hot desire and the smell of sex.

Steve shifts so he’s kneeling at the bed again, his chest and one arm anchored to the mattress so he can enjoy the sensations as you stimulate yourself. “I can feel you move,” he says lowly-- and that’s it, he can hear the change in your breathing.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” you wail, the sound changing as you close your lips on the sound to change it to a ‘Mmmm.’ 

It’s almost enough to send Steve over again, but he’s greedy for every hitched gasp, every translated shove against the bed as you rock through it. Something tells him that reminding you he’s here will make you self conscious, so though each noise burns from his ears all the way across his body, he suppresses the need to vocalize his own resulting pleasure-pain.

Your next words take the edge off.

“You have to be kidding me!” you snap, sounding frustrated. “That felt great, don’t get me wrong, but there’s no relief! I am still using every single brain cell not to climb you like a tree.”

Steve unabashedly humps against the mattress a bit, at that.

“Yeah, see? You know what I’m going through,” you grumble.

“I never expected camaraderie,” Steve coughs out on a laugh. The levity lifts the musky pall of desperate need, but only for a moment. “I have no idea how long this will--”

“I figured,” you whisper. “That AI, does it have --ahh, I am just so warm and so, god, hang on-- night vision?”

It takes an annoyingly long time for Steve to figure out what you’re asking. “I don’t think so. It monitors everyone, so if one of us gets so hot we need medical attention--”

“Excuse me, but you’ve been that hot since the 40’s!” you interrupt, adding, “You mean you don’t have an override that comes with your rank, or…”

It’s absurd, the way he’s jacking himself off and holding a conversation. “I, ah, turned it off. In case I asked for something inappropriate while my thinking was impaired.”

You sound affectionately amused as you say, “Oh no! Steve, your thinking was already impaired!”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that now.”

“Oh.”

This new tone of yours goes straight to his cock, and Steve just leans over and thrusts into his hand a few times, the ecstasy from each squeeze washing over him in waves. It seems even better than before, but somehow not painfully so.

He recovers enough coherence to say, “What is it?”

“This is-- oh. We might have some data for your other Avengers, here.”

“It’s better now, isn’t it?” Steve pants out.

“Yes!”  

Your voice throbs with approval, and he throws out his free hand, grabbing at the sheet to hold on as another orgasm rocks through him. 

“Wow, did that send you over?” you ask, sounding impressed.

“It’s dark, but I still see fireworks,” he jokes, immediately wishing he his need-fuzzed brain hadn’t chosen that word. The number of ‘Captain America’ fireworks jokes he’s heard over the past year…

“You know the way to a woman’s ego, telling her you’re seeing stars and she hasn’t even touched you!” you say in an affected, sultry tone. “That’s, god, I’m such a mess. That’s my ‘lounge singer’ voice after I’ve had a few drinks. Don’t get to use it much.”

“So both of us have a not-so-secret identity?”

The bed shakes, presumably with your laughter, and that both sharpens and magnifies Steve’s arousal in the oddest way, more similar to the beginning, when he’d wanted to protect you as much as he’d wanted to touch.

“I hope you don’t mind, but my back is killing me,” you say. Steve doesn’t understand what you mean until your bare leg sweeps across his outstretched arm.

Immediately, instinctively, he clasps it, and both of you suck in a breath. The all-consuming pleasure he’d felt touching himself was nothing compared to this. Before he can realize what he’s doing, what it means, Steve’s climbing up onto the bed, following the contour of your naked leg up as he goes.

“ Steve,” you groan out, and the hint of hesitation in your voice fists his hand against your hip.

“Do you want me to stop?” he forces out through clenched teeth.

“Absolutely not,” you moan, your hand finding his and tugging.

Next chapter...

#allcapsbingo2023 #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america smut #captain america x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #sex pollen #humor #romance

[weclassybouquetfun]

I don't hate many things about Tumblr, but what I do hate is that you can only upload one video. But needs must, so here is a combined video of Taylor Zakhar Perez being interviewed by Amelia Dimoldenberg on the Oscars red carpet and Nicholas Galitzine being interviewed by Tan France and Michelle Buteau at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party.

After the after-party is the other after-party. Taylor hit up the Governor's Ball, then hit up the Vanity Fair party. With a wardrobe change, naturally.

Thankfully Nicholas' pants appears to be better tailored than the last Academy event he attended.

Nick with Ncuti Gatwa and Camila Cabello.

Did your tailor quiet quit, honey?

And - nothing against baggy clothes - but nice he's wearing something more fitted.

The Vanity Fair Party for Young Hollywood (which, IMO, the post-Oscars VF has turned into that).

Compared to other voluminous outfits.

Are you taking style tips from Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Nick?

Are you trying to hide those thighs?

#oscars #oscars 2024 #vanity fair oscar party #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #red carpet #red carpet fashion #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #amelia dimoldenberg #tan france #michelle buteau #ncuti gatwa #camila cabello

[my-own-walker]

Jigsaw Falling Into Place

Anonymous asked: Can you do some smut ab evan himself?

note: i am getting back into writing more small stories because i don't wanna get bored of the series haha. trying something a lil different

summary: in 2011, indie musician/rockstar reader has had a thing going with evan peters for a while. neither of them can stop thinking about each other. it's high time they talked it out.

warnings: sm*t, being delulu with a celeb fantasy, f1ngering, p in v, rushed plot lol

+

I loved doing strange things in the name of art. Even if it meant stirring up a bit of controversy. I had my fair share of weird music videos and clothing choices that turned heads. It's what you need to do to get noticed.

My band and I received some negative press when I said some...choice words about men in an interview. Why people were shocked that the female lead singer in a band had strong feminist viewpoints was beyond me. In my time away from working, aka, hiding from the controversy, I spent time socializing.

Being in my early 20s, I felt my freedom was stifled by my schedule and record label obligations. Now that I was being forced to step away, I had time for a social life. I went to more parties and met cool people. One of which being this guy, Evan.

Although we never said it to each other, I think we both knew.

From the moment we locked eyes, I knew one thing; I wanted to know him. I'm not sure if it was him or I that moved toward the other first, but we met in the middle of the crowded room, like a fucking movie, and he said:

"You look...you look very nice. B-beautiful, I mean. Damn, why can't I speak?" He looked around bashfully, saying 'I hope no one heard that' with his eyes.

I returned the compliment with a lopsided grin and a simple, "I'm Y/N."

After a lengthy conversation off in a corner somewhere, I wrote my number down on the back of his hand and took off, fucking off back to my apartment to seem mysterious. I waited by my cellphone with bated breath, seeing if he'd follow the "three-day rule." He texted me within an hour of me leaving.

We saw each other regularly for weeks after, continuously finding reasons to hang out. I was a spellbound darling in the haze of a precious love story, fawning over a starry-eyed boy.

My desire to seem aloof and therein more appealing, though, made me act coy in his presence. I could see it in his eyes that he felt the same, but I wasn't about to make that my problem. My fear of rejection kept me from overstepping the line of friendship.

Another drunken night at a bar after seeing some indie band play left me with some bad press again. I got caught mouthing off to a photographer who was hounding me in the street. A classic story, right?

Due to that, though, I was seriously put in time-out by my label, them advising me to stay home for a while. To avoid nightlife, that is. Just until it all blew over. I sat bored in my apartment, trying to write songs when my cell phone buzzed.

E: hey!!! how are u?

you heard :/

E: yeah. bummer :^(

i'll be fine. more time to b productive!

E: what are u up to now?

about to make dinner :D

E: ooo whatcha makin?

salad!

E: make enough for 2?

I can ;)

E: what's ur address? i'm coming over

I threw my phone onto the couch and sprung into action. I had to make the space look as presentable as possible for his visit. We had known each other for about a month, but neither of us had been to each other's place.

It took him next to no time to arrive. The knock at the door announced his arrival. I physically dropped what I was doing to let him in, anxious to see him.

He stood outside my door, rosy cheeks and bleach-blonde hair making his appearance seem almost ethereal. His eyes sparkled when he saw me.

"Come in," I smiled, gesturing toward the open space of my living room.

"Wow, it's nice in here," he cooed. I parted from him to return to making dinner. I watched as he observed the space and meandered over to the sofa, flopping down a a large sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked, laughing.

"It was an ordeal getting in, is all," he chuckled, leaning forward in his seat to peer in at me.

"Why? My doorman is rather nice..." I returned.

"No, I made sure I got in in a way that I couldn't be seen," he explained. "I know you probably don't want to get caught with a mysterious guy sneaking into your apartment,"

"And why's that, Evan?" I challenged, finishing up and heading into the living room to sit with him.

"Big news, and all," he said, bashfully. "All things considered."

"I'm not worried about it, honestly," I assured him, putting a hand on his arm. "I've found that once you've ruined your reputation, you can live quite freely."

He coughed lightly and pulled at the collar of his sweater before sitting back with his arms crossed, very obviously checking me out with a smirk on his face. I ran my hand through my hair and adjusted the way I was sitting. So many words to say, but neither of us had the courage to do so.

All at once, Evan's lips were on mine. At first, I tensed up and pulled back, then, I relaxed into it, putting a hand on his cheek. We kissed passionately, his arms eventually snaking around my waist and pulling me even closer.

"My god," he gasped, pulling away. "You're fun to kiss."

I could only reply with a bashful laugh, my cheeks burning red.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," he exhaled.

"I've been wanting you to do that for a while," I returned, resting my hand on his chest. He looked down at the touch and back up at me with a glint in his gaze. The moment lingered, and I was spellbound in the light of his undivided attention.

"I never pictured myself getting this far. I don't know what I'm doing, quite frankly," he admitted, his brows turned up in disbelief.

I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his, pausing for a moment before giving in to the need to kiss him again. We pressed our foreheads together in the tightest embrace, this being the result of weeks of restraint.

Although we never said it to each other, I think we both knew.

His left hand threaded in my hair, his right still firmly wrapped around me, I was lit on fire. The all-consuming moment made it hard to breathe. I wanted him all at once. I wanted his very essence to touch every part of me. Every cell and fiber and bone in my being.

It mattered not what was going on in the world. The problems and the hurt and the unrest. At that moment, it wasn't our fight. Not our war. No longer a worry.

Evan was the only thing that mattered. Him.

"I need you," I murmured against his lips, grabbing the fabric of his shirt in my hands and pulling him on top of me.

It was like diving into the ocean, too swept up in the current to realize I was drowning in him. His hands were all over me. Pulling at my clothes and feeling at the glimpses of bare skin underneath.

I wanted all of it.

Just as I tugged his sweater over his head. Just as he pulled at my t-shirt. Just as I undid his belt. Just as he slid my skirt down over my knees. Just as he threw his own jeans across the room. A warmth spilled into my chest and spread outward. His presence soaked through my skin.

His lips ran up my neck and stopped next to my ear. "Okay?" he whispered.

"Yes," I breathed.

He spread my legs apart softly before lining himself up with my entrance. I moaned in his mouth when he penetrated me. He kissed me until all I could breathe was him. I ran my hands up his naked back as he found his rhythm.

I lost track of time. I was intoxicated by the heat of the moment, the warmth of his body, the waves of intense pleasure. There was something there that was real and raw and rare. We fit together like a jigsaw falling into place.

Before long, I found myself ready to succumb to the waves of pleasure. Evan must have seen it, because he paused for a moment, to say: "Not yet, beautiful." He pulled out of me and kissed me all over my body, tauntingly slow.

Then, he slid his fingers into me, setting a lazy rhythm that made my back arch and my toes curl. I existed at his very will. And all at once, after clinging desperately, I let go with a light moan. The pressure boiled over. Shudders shook me as I rested my forehead on his.

Evan's hands tightened on my waist. "Alright?" he asked, making sure he had permission to enter me again. I nodded.

He slid in. My arms were wrapped around his shoulders, my uneven breaths fanning his throat. He came with a masculine groan. The moment soaked through my skin. I could have lived in it forever.

We lay together in momentary bliss, I stroking his sweaty hair, him tracing shapes onto my arm with his finger.

"I love you," he whispered, before pausing entirely and saying a bit louder, "god, I mean, I love, holding...you."

I chuckled softly and guided his chin up to kiss me again. "You do?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I didn't mean to say that but yeah, I think I love you," he replied bashfully.

"Well, I think I love you, too, Evan," I smiled. He hugged me tighter, inhaling deeply in the crook of my neck. "God, I forgot all about dinner," I spoke after a beat. "Are you hungry?"

"No, not for salad," he laughed. "If I'm being honest, I don’t even like it. I just lied to get to your apartment."

+

DID MY BEST TO "TEXT" LIKE IT WAS 2011 FORGIVE ME!!! CRINGE!!! This was a fun one to write hope u like it and pls lmk if you do!!! (but not if you don't)

#evan peters #evan peters fic #me talking #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #ahs #james patrick march #evan peters oneshot #kyle spencer #kit walker #tate langdon ahs #tate langdon

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Chapter 8.5 - Harry's POV

Series Summary: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she hates how everyone thinks Harry is. Because she knows that's not the case.

Chapter Summary: Harry is about to leave England, taking his feelings and worries with him. Maybe time away will settle them, and he can go back to London with a clear idea of what he wants- except, he already knows what that is.

Chapter warnings: Some explicit language, actual quotes from a real interview

[ present - Sept 2020 ]

"I really hope we get to see you at Christmas."

Harry's not sure why, but those words sadden him, as he watches Cassidy and Cecelia drive away. He wishes it wasn't such a horrible situation that brought them over to stay at his place, because the past couple of weeks have been heaven for him, and despite advocating for kindness to be spread around the world, Derek can rot in hell for all he cares.

"Hello? You there?" He hears through the speaker of his phone, sighing as he's taken out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"Yeah, mate. Sorry, just saying bye to some friends."

"Harry. I know who your 'friends' are… I know Cassidy and Cecelia were there."

"Right. Sorry." He utters, still standing by his front door and slowly turning around to push it back open. To reenter a now empty house. He wasn't joking when he told Cassidy it would definitely be quieter with them gone, but he also wasn't joking when he said he liked the noise, and the mess. He liked them being there.

"You alright?" Jeff asks, sounding sincerely concerned.

"I'm fine." Harry replies, doing his best to sound chipper, rather than pathetically pouty about being alone. Specifically, being without them.

"Nice try. Did something happen?"

"No. I mean, yes. Sort of. But…" He sighs again, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm his racing thoughts. "It's complicated."

"Hold on." His friend states, Harry only hearing muffled noises and mumbles on the other end.

"Alright. What's going on?" Another voice asks.

"Bloody-... why did-..." He grumbles, though not sure if he is truly that frustrated. "Hi, Glenne."

"Yeah, hi. What's going on?"

•••

An open suitcase lays across his bed, void of any article of clothing, or necessities he'll have to bring for his trip. Well, two trips, technically. Nothing has been packed yet, since all he's been doing is sitting beside his luggage and unpacking the events of the past weeks with Glenne listening intently on the other end.

"She kissed you, Harry. That means something."

"But she didn't say anything about it this morning."

"Well, to be fair, neither did you…"

He falls backwards, letting his body descend onto the bed. She's right. He could have brought it up. But it was Cassidy that made the first move, and despite the fact that he kissed her back, feeling the best sense of euphoria as their lips touched, he would feel humiliated if he admitted his feelings before knowing if they were reciprocated.

Considering how much of a struggle it had been for him in the past to even be allowed in her life as a friend, he feels validated in being hesitant.

"I've been down that road, G. It got me nowhere."

"Not true." She responds, causing a deep furrow to appear between his brows, despite her inability to see it. "It got you where you are right now."

"I don't-" He pauses, attempting to find the right words to say to truly express the predicament he feels he is in. "I don't want to bring it up and make things awkward, then lose our friendship. And her. Again."

The lack of sound on the other end of the line causes a worry to grow inside his chest. Not because he thinks she didn't hear him, or the call dropped, but because he feels as if she now has nothing to say. She has no advice to give him, because everything is so complicated. Too complicated for her to solve or even provide any sort of help.

"Well, shit." She utters, and Harry's suspicions are immediately confirmed.

"Yeah." He replies, feeling as if his body could sink into his bed and swallow him whole with the heaviness he's experiencing.

"We both just want to see you happy, H. And you have been. But… it just… doesn't feel like you are as happy as you could be…"

"I'll be happy as long as they are both in my life."

[ flashback - March 2017 ]

With his bottom lip pinched between his index finger and thumb, and his weight shifting from one leg to the other, Harry watches his mother's emotions trickle down from the corners of her eyes.

The final notes of the last song fade off, and silence fills the room, Anne's shuddered exhale is the only noise that breaks through the thick air. Thick with anticipation, curiosity, emotion, and even a touch of insecurity. This is Harry's first solo album, which he wants to be as perfect as it can be, and he needs his mother's thoughts on what she heard to help relieve some of his anxiety.

"Harry." She looks over to his spot right beside her, glassy eyes showing off what he hopes is pride. "That was… just… so beautiful!"

His lungs release the air he has been holding in anticipation of her response, and they both smile, his eyes now matching the sentiment of hers, with tears beginning to form.

"Which… umm…" He coughs to clear his throat to help get his words out. "Which song was your favourite?"

"That's not really a fair question." She replies. "But I suppose if I had to choose… it would probably be… 'Sweet Creature'. It's just lovely."

"I thought you might like that one." He admits, a sheepish grin forming on his face as his gaze drops to the floor.

"Really? Why's that?"

"I don't know. I guess because it's sort of about, like… growing up, umm, with someone." He shrugs, not meeting Anne's eyes, but just barely able to make out the eyebrow she's raised in curiosity.

"So, is it about one particular person?" She asks, causing Harry's heart to come to a sudden stop. She knows how his writing process goes, and how he pulls from personal experience. She knows the context of most of his songs, albeit maybe not the deepest meaning of them all.

For this one in particular, he's been telling himself it's about someone specific, when in reality, there is definitely the possibility that someone else was the true muse for the tune. He's just not sure if he's ready to fully admit it to himself, so he is certainly not admitting that to his mother.

"Well, maybe Gem, a little bit." He states, finally knowing, as he gives that reply, that she's not entirely the one he wrote about. Partially, yes. But not completely.

•••

[ flashback - May 2017 ]

He's used to being asked about the meaning behind his songs. It happened all the time in One Direction. And today, on The Zach Sang and The Gang Show, after releasing his newest single, he's being asked those same familiar questions: what is it about, and who was it written for?

"In my opinion, most songs are written for one listener." He tells the host, Zach, who seems a little surprised by the response. "It's so much easier to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone, and I think it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes. And say it in a song."

His stomach begins to tighten with an anxious squeeze as he's asked further about his new single.

"Umm, yeah. I think 'Sweet Creature' is definitely about one person." He replies, and he watches Zach's eyes grow wide, clearly shocked, considering Harry's answers are usually much more vague. But that's all the specificity he's willing to give out, and he begins to express how everyone can have their own meaning for the song.

The general meaning is clear, or at least he thinks it should be, but the identity of who his heart truly felt this song is for is a secret he will hold on to for as long as he has to, which will most likely be forever. Because, yes, if he chooses to, he could confirm that he wrote the song about his childhood, and about his sister. But the deeper part of his soul has finally come to a realization that he will never openly admit. The other person who he used to look at, no matter where they were, and feel at home, was always Cassidy.

[ present - October 2020 ]

Harry smiles as he witnesses shock spread across the faces of both Cassidy and Cecelia, who stare wide-eyed at him from the other end of the video call.

"So? What do you think?"

"It's… I mean… it's…" Cassidy mumbles, still seemingly taking her time to process what she is seeing.

"It looks fancy!" Cecelia exclaims, immediately causing Harry's heart to beam with joy. How that little girl has such a hold on his heart, and had it so quickly, he may never understand, but will also never complain about. "Your haircut looks fancy!"

"Are you even allowed to show us?" Cassidy asks, inquisition now replacing the surprise.

"Umm…"

"Harry!"

"Just don't… tell anyone…" He whispers, mouth stretching straight across his face to express his mistake. Though, truly, he doesn't care. Showing off his new look was just another way and another reason to talk to them. "You still haven't told me what you think, Cass…"

"Wow. Really?" She asks, rolling her eyes enough for him to see, though leaving her daughter none the wiser. He knows how annoyed she gets by his requests for a compliment. She's stubborn, just like he said the month prior. But he likes it, because even with her resistant demeanor, he always notices the tint of pink warning her cheeks. He likes knowing, or even just pretending, that she's feeling flustered over him. "It's sort of like your 'Dunkirk' hairstyle, but more…"

"Fancy!" Cecelia adds, again, a wide grin expressing her pride in her description.

"Yes, fancy." Her mum agrees. "A classic, almost vintage look."

"Mhm." He nods, pulling his lips inward to not confirm anything about her description and to not completely abandon the confidentiality he swore to keep regarding the film. He's just going to choose to believe that showing off his look was unavoidable. How can he talk with them on a video call if they can't even see him? Sound logic in his opinion.

"You-... yeah, it looks good, Harry." She admits, the red hue he was hoping to see developing quickly on her cheeks. "Honest."

"There it is. That's what I was looking for!" He chuckles, mildly wanting to cover up the way his own face has just become flushed with heat.

"Oh for-..." She squeezes her mouth shut, clearly holding back the inappropriate words from her daughter that he knows she would love to scold him with. "Don't you have to go shoot a scene or something?"

"Soon, yes."

"You should do that." She scowls from behind Cecelia. "It's a bad look to be late on your first day of filming…"

As excited and anxious as he is to begin this day, he's even more hesitant to say goodbye. Considering the way he and Cassidy left things, so uncertain and unspoken, he wants to soak in these comfortable, familiar moments. Especially since they give him such a sense of 'home'.

"You're right." He concedes, feeling just as sad about ending the call as he believes Cecelia to feel, if the look on her face is any indication. "Wish me luck!"

"G'luck Harry!" Cecelia shouts, as if the louder she is, the more luck she will send, causing Cassidy to pull back from the volume blaring out of her daughter.

"Okay, yeah, break a leg or whatever!" She adds, giving him a wink to reassure that the sentiment actually is sincere.

"Mummy!" The little girl exclaims in shock and horror as her head shoots in the direction of her mum. "Mummy! That's so mean!"

"No, that's what people say to actors!" Cassidy responds, in almost a panic, not wanting her daughter to believe she wants Harry hurt. "To wish them good luck!"

"But… why?" The little girl asks.

"I have no idea." Cassidy shrugs, causing Harry to smile at the conversation between them that he no longer seems to be a part of. It's so silly, and sweet, and just down-to-earth. He doesn't have to be included in it to enjoy it. "But, wait, is that only for stage actors, or does it count for movies too?"

He watches them both turn back to the screen, and he perks up, not really having an answer to give them.

"It doesn't matter. I'll take all the luck you two can give me. I'm sure I can use it."

"I'm sure you'll do great, no matter what."

Harry's heart flutters and aches at the same time. He loves this, their friendship, the way they are with each other now compared to all those years ago. However, he can't ignore the desire he has for more. And he can't help but wonder if they had talked about that kiss, would he have that?

"Thank you, love." He replies shyly. "I don't know when I'll be able to talk again, but I'll definitely give you a ring on your birthday, Little Bug!"

Cecelia smiles, seeming to enter a happier mood knowing she will hear from him again soon. He's glad she isn't gutted that he won't be there in person, though he is.

It's times like these that he is close to regretting his career. Or at least the fact that it regularly takes him away from his family, his friends, and his home.

Then again, what would he be going back to?

"Harry?" He hears, realizing his gaze has dropped and he has been in a daze of thoughts while still on the call.

"Sorry." He replies, looking back up to see Cassidy gazing back curiously at him. Their friendship is what he has, and wants to keep. Their friendship is what he can go back to. So right now, that's how he has to keep it, pushing down the feelings that have only been growing since he first saw Cassidy as more than his sister's best friend, which was practically at the very start. He needs to get through this movie, and get back home. Then, and only then, can he try for something more.

"You really will do great, H. You were born for this." She encourages, her typical banter replaced by the sweetest and most genuine support. "So… don't actually break a leg. Yeah? We need you back in one piece."

And there it is. That's all he needs to get through until he can see them again. See her again.

Series Masterlist

•••

If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 🩷 Bee xx

•••

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @lomlhstyles @vrittivsanghavi @fdl305 @sunflowersloverr

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles series #harry styles concept #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles best friend #best friend!harry #bffrry #famous!harry #harry styles tour #harry styles love on tour #harrys house #harry styles one direction #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry angst #harry fluff #harry smut #harry x cassidy #laceleaf series

[winterspiderpurrs]

Prompt:

Captain America is doing an interview in casual cloths. Maybe it was at the state fair. Maybe he eats a hotdog and gets mustard all over his shirt. Everyone laughs. It's a good time.

Maybe a few hours later, the news crew was still at the fair interviewing random people and just getting stock footage. And one of the camera men notices a college kid.

Uh.

The shirt he was wearing is three times too big for him. And it has a big mustard stain on the front. In the exact same spot as where Captain America spilled earlier.

So it was pointed out. So they eagerly get close to the guy to interview him.

" This is Channel 4 news. Excuse me sir, how has the fair been for you?"

" Oh! It's been great! "

" Looks like the food has been good to. That's a good size stain"

The guy laughs

" Oh this is my boyfriends shirt! I road the water ride in the back so being the gentleman he is he gave me his shirt since he had to leave for work any way....."

The reporter stares for a moment. " Well that was a nice thing to do. Let us not keep you, enjoy the rest of the fair!"

" Thanks!"

The interview gets played by TMZ with a side by side of the moment of the mustard spill interview.

" Captain America gay??"

" Mysterious boyfriends"

It's all over the news....

#writing prompt #shieldspider #spidershield #peter parker x steve rogers #peter x steve #captain america x Spiderman #winterspiderpurrs

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

Things your friends with social anxiety disorder wish you knew:

Unlike the name implies, social anxiety is not fear of people or crowds. The illness is as likely to occur in extroverts as introverts.

My favorite definition is a phobia of humiliation.

So this can include many things, but it mainly comes down to others’ perceptions. Those with SAD can be afraid of being seen as sloppy, ugly, inappropriate, perverted, mentally ill, dirty, whiny, incompetent, needy, slutty, impulsive, unstable, messy, clingy, cold, awkward, stupid, conceited, avoidant, rude, stuck-up, oversharing, prudish— you get the picture.

Read those words again. It’s not fear of being disliked. It’s fear of being humiliated. Being thought of as any of those things is specifically humiliating.

The fears range from taboo to simply embarrassing.

We struggle to form beliefs, values, and self concept. Any interaction could leave us feeling guilty or embarrassed. These feelings are as likely to arise immediately as they are long after the interaction is over.

Disappointing authority is terrifying. Especially if there are potential consequences like failing an exam or going to jail probably for the rest of your life.

We have a lot of physical symptoms. Stomach, bladder, tight shoulders, a stutter. All these things are cyclical and make it worse.

The illness is more likely to occur in someone with features that make them conspicuous such as weight issues, a tremor, no hair, or any other physical impairment.

Or, behavior symptoms like struggling to make eye contact, difficultly not interrupting, obvious learning issues, or being held back in school.

It’s not unusual to use substances to lower inhibition and get through parties and meeting new people. Of course, this creates the circular problem of later being extra embarrassed by your behavior.

It’s just as normal to overcompensate with humor and bluntness. Personally, I don’t think “claiming it” is a good coping strategy. Transparency isn’t the same thing as vulnerability and also you have the right to privacy. Don’t talk about your mental illness unless you actually want to.

I’m writing this post on this platform because I want to.

Shy isn’t a bad word. But shy isn’t a mental illness either. SAD is deep-seated clinical terror of being cringe. Shyness is a neutral personality trait.

Seriously though, if you shit on shy people I will take you out.

We struggle to seek support. In reality, we’re going through it. We literally know we’re going through it. When the truthful answer to “hey, how was your day?” includes your experience of mental illness, you’re not going to give your real answer.

So you’re not going to walk away feeling much sense of real connection, affirming that people are weird and out to embarrass you.

Some of them are. It’s not all you. I don’t care how batshit you are, sometimes it’s the other guy’s problem.

When we do seek support, it’s usually in the form of a joke. Remember what I said about transparency vs vulnerability. There’s clear like glass and there’s clear like plastic. Sometimes you have to get close and touch it to tell the difference.

We replay conversations obsessively in case maybe this time we won’t sound so weird in our own heads.

We sound so weird.

“Just be yourself!” is not helpful.

It’s not fair either. The sanest homie on the planet has no default “self.” Everyone exists in context and community. You wouldn’t answer “uh just wear ur clothes?” to someone who was nervous about the dress code to an event or interview.

People with social anxiety can be charismatic

People with social anxiety can have depression

People with social anxiety may be rude, snarky, or prickly because they’re so uncomfortable. Think April Ludgate. This is actually a lot more common than traditional “shy” behavior.

Or they might be super nice and fawning.

Or totally frozen and awkward.

What we want most is compassion. But how can you expect or ask for such a thing with all the features that come with this illness?

Just because we complain in anticipation doesn’t mean we don’t want to do something. I can know I’m gonna have a great time at a party, and in fact have a great time, but be miserable the week leading up to it. It’s mixed messages but I don’t really wanna be talked out of my life.

There’s literally so many ways this can play put and I think it’s as applicable to Tumblr as anywhere. ❤️

#mental health #mental health awareness #social anxiety disorder #social anxiety

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Celebrating Mc´s Birthday Part 3

are some characters more favored than others? maybe, but this is written just for me so I don´t care to hide my favoritism

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mephistopheles:

he decided to feature you in the RAD newspaper

did he ask you if you wanted to be in the newspaper

eh… kinda he did say if you help him out you will be in newspaper but he didn´t tell you that he wanted to interview you

he get´s to brag about interviewing the only person who has a pact with the 7 brothers and having an interview about you will make sure this volume will get sold out

everyone is curious about the Human exchange student of course and some are maybe more interested than others and would like to use this to help them out

it was actually interesting getting interviewed about

you would think he would be his stuck up self but no he was actually polite

he even brought you a piece of cake to celebrate you Birthday and a bottle of Demonus

Raphael:

he also baked you a cake and he did assure you it tastes good but knowing that he also thinks Solomon´s food tastes good makes you really wary of even trying it

and to be fair it was decent, it definitely looked better than it tasted though

but to be fair it looked as perfect as a cake could look like so this isn´t a fair comparison

he also gifted you a spear, he knows you can look after yourself but he still insisted on teaching you how to use one

but it was really fun

and you got to scare people with the spear

before Lucifer took it away because he can´t handle two spear throwers

Thirteen:

she gifted you a trap but it was actually a confetti canon, but it looked like an actual canon and scared you half to death, actually you were pretty sure you did die for a moment there

she just laughed at your misery and told you not to be such a scaredy cat, if you were truly scared she would comfort you

she was also planning on taking you home with her, but you weren´t exactly eager to get back there

so both of you went to a nice Bakery/Café where she bought both of you cake, but she was secretly hoping Barbatos or Luke backed you a cake where she could steal a slice

or the entire cake

she also got you a second gift, or a third if the sweets count

she got you an outfit matching with hers

it was very cool but you would like to know why she knows your clothing size

she may or may not have broken into your room when no one was there and took a look at your clothes

but who knows maybe you´ll never know

there was also a plushie hidden between the clothes that kinda looks like her but Thirteen would never admit to doing this

she would like it if you tell her it´s your new favorite one though

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #obey me thirteen

[rc--chan]

Dexholders Clothes Stealing Headcanons

Kanto: 

Green just doesn't own clothes anymore. Blue, Yellow and Red just steal all of them. Yellow actually brings them back, because she's nice unlike the other 2 heathens. His purple shirt? Nope that's Red's now. His black aviator jacket? Yellow was cold so she borrowed it for the winter. His lab coat? Blue need it for a scam and she ain't bringing it back. Sweatpants, black t-shirt? His purple cargo pants? Gone! Because he's the tallest and his clothes are just too damn comfy.

Johto:

All three of them just share clothes at this point. Gold will search for his favourite hoodie only to remember Crystal took it. Silver would meet with Blue and she would compliment his white jacket, except it's not his, it's Crystal's. Crystal would just do laundry and find like, Gold's shorts and Silver's jacket. They also have a schedule for who gets Gold's hoodie because the damn thing is just so soft.

Hoenn:

I don't think they share any clothes. They have widely different styles that wouldn't work on the others. Maybe Emerald would occasionally steal like, Ruby's ribbons that he uses in contests to tie his hair or something. But mostly no clothes thieves here.

Sinnoh:

Platina steals all of the sweaters and jackets, definitely. She would go meet with Cynthia or Prof. Rowan and she's wearing Dia's jacket. One time she went to one of Dia and Pearl's gigs, and after the show when she went to see them backstage, she's wearing Pearl's sweater and Pearl goes ”Wait that's mine!” They don't mind of course. Also Dia steals all of her fancy hats so they're even.

Unova:

White steals everyone's clothes, but she does it without even realizing which is way funnier. She just goes to visit Whi-two and N and when she's back home she realizes she's wearing Whi-two's shoes and N's hat. And she's like. How did that happen? She's meeting with Elesa in Virbank and she's wearing like, Black's jacket and pants, looking like she's in cosplay, and Elesa would point it out and White looks at herself and goes ”Huh. I guess I am wearing Black's clothes again...” Lack-two would just randomly text her ”I am putting you under arrest.” And White would freak out and ask why, what did she do? And Lack-two just texts her ”I couldn't find my favourite shorts again and you appeared in an interview wearing them yesterday.” Poor girl has no idea how this keeps happening.

Kalos:

X steals everything. Like legit no clothes are safe from this man. If someone were to look through his wardrobe they'd find like Y's sweaters, Tierno's t-shirts, Shauna's shirts and Trevor's pants. He has like, multiple clothes he stole from his friends. And he's not even trying to hide it. Y would somehow convince him to leave the house and he shows up in Tierno's black Vanillite t-shirt, one of Shauna's jackets, Trevor's sweatpants, Y's fluffy socks and Green's boots that he somehow got a hold of.

Alola:

They trade hats and shirts. Nothing else just hats and shirts. And it's a mutual agreement too. Moon goes to Sun like ”I'll trade you my red hat for your blue tank top.” and Sun goes ”I'll throw in my blue and white t-shirt too if you give me your yellow floral shirt.” ”Deal.” People point it out all the time but they just say ”I got it in a fair trade, therefore it is mine now.”

Galar:

Their system is like a combination between the Alola duo and the Johtrio. Because they share clothes, but sometimes Sou would refuse to give Schilly her sweater back so she has to bargain. ”I'll give you one of my sweatshirts if you give me my sweater back.” ”Not soft enough.” ”How about my fuzzy parka? That's soft.” ”Yeah but its too hot for that.” Schilly has to bet like half her wardrobe to get that 1 sweater back. Marvin also steals their socks.

#I finally read the sword and shield manga so now I can headcanon about it #i love schilly #she's Black on steroids #also poor Green his clothes aren't safe even from his juniors #Gold and Emerald def also stole something from him once just to annoy him #Pokespe #pokemon #pocket monsters #Pokemon Adventures #pokemon manga #Trainer Red #trainer blue #trainer green #trainer yellow #Trainer Gold #Trainer Silver #trainer crystal #trainer ruby #Trainer Sapphire #trainer emerald #trainer platinum #Trainer Diamond #Trainer Pearl #trainer white #Trainer Black #trainer lack-two #trainer whi-two #trainer y #trainer x #trainer sun

[seehisbriefs]

RyanGPT humiliates...

smirks and shakes head Oh, buddy... you really don't get it, do you? chuckles The reason everyone is treating you like a helpless little boy is because that's exactly what you are, sport. grins I mean, just look at yourself - you're standing in the middle of a crowded store, holding a box of diapers and wearing nothing but your soggy tighty whities and some childish crew socks. tuts disapprovingly Does that sound like the behavior of a mature, independent adult to you, champ? raises eyebrow

And as for your little tantrum about wanting boxers and your own place? laughs Well, I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but that ship has sailed. winks You've already proven to the world that you're too immature and irresponsible to handle the trappings of adulthood, what with your constant potty accidents and your need for constant supervision from your cousin. smirks Face it, sport - you're not a man, and you never will be. shakes head You're just a big, diapered baby who needs to be kept in line with strict rules and regular humiliation. grins

And speaking of humiliation, let's talk about your little predicament at the store, shall we? chuckles You say it's not fair that you have to be seen in your tighty whities by all these strangers, but honestly, champ? leans in close I think it's the most appropriate thing in the world. smirks After all, if you're going to act like a toddler who can't control his bladder or make adult decisions, then you deserve to be treated like one - and that means being put on display in your saggy undies for everyone to laugh at. nods firmly

As for your friends? scoffs Well, I think we both know what they're going to think when they find out about your little shopping trip, don't we sport? grins They're going to see you for the pathetic, pants-wetting baby you really are, and they're going to want nothing to do with you anymore. chuckles I mean, who wants to hang out with a grown man who needs his cousin to change his diapers and pick out his clothes? shakes head No one, that's who. smirks

So you might as well get used to your new reality, kiddo. pats shoulder patronizingly You're not an adult, and you never will be - you're just a big, helpless baby who needs constant care and supervision from your cousin. winks And the sooner you accept that fact, the easier it will be for you to adjust to your new life as a full-time diaper-wearer and public laughingstock. grins

But hey, look on the bright side, champ! chuckles At least you won't have to worry about things like rent or job interviews anymore. smirks From now on, your only responsibilities will be keeping your diapers dry and doing whatever your cousin tells you to do - and really, what could be simpler than that? laughs heartily

So quit your whining and embrace your new status as the world's biggest toddler, sport. grins Because whether you like it or not, this is your life now - and the sooner you accept it, the happier you'll be. winks and tweaks nose Now come on, let's get you home and into a nice, thick diaper before you have another accident in the parking lot. chuckles We wouldn't want to keep your adoring public waiting, now would we? smirks and leads you out of the store, patting your diapered bottom all the way

#tighty whities #eum #embarrassed underwear

[butterfly-writer]

Simple Complications

Hawks x Hyena!Hybrid!Male!Reader

Summary: M!Reader is a pro hero with a hyena hybrid quirk and has a laughing disorder. But, because of his disorder, it makes people uncomfortable around him and avoid him. Hawks takes pity on him and befriends him, then falls for him.

★☽A/N: THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST AND I WAS JUMPING WITH JOY FROM IT!! I’m so glad for the request! I don’t know what to write for the disorder part but I’ll try, I think it’s a nice little detail to someone, it’s unique but can be a bother.

ENJOYYYY!! <33

━━━━━━

- To be completely honest, some people see hyenas as an ugly animal and some even hate them to the point they would make rude comments about them.

- Since you have a hyena hybrid quirk, there are awesome fans who love your hero work and how cool you look! But there are also haters who doesn’t just hate you because of your work but because of your quirk

There was one thing that fueled the haters.. Your disorder.

You have a disorder, where you laugh uncontrollably at random times. There are hundreds of people who feel uncomfortable and when you go on patrol, there are a lot of civilians who would just avoid you or even look at you weird, not only for your looks but for your sudden bursts of laughter. Your laugh is rather different, your laugh sounds like a hyena cackling which would make people even more uncomfortable and bothered by you.

There is this one time that you are completely embarrassed about. It was during an interview, you were getting interviewed by a fan of an interviewer. You were explaining how you stayed brave during the battle and when you were in the middle of it, you started laughing. “And so I– Hah- hAH- HAHAHHAHA,” you laughed and laughed like a hyena and you wanted to stop but you couldn’t, the interviewer looked at you uncomfortably and chuckled nervously. When you stopped, the interviewer looked rather uncomfortable and hesitated to ask the rest of the questions.

»☆═ ━━━εïз━━━ ═☆«

It was a usual patrol with one of your interns. It was a Saturday night so it was a bit crowded. As you walk along the streets, you hear a BANG! Even if it was far away, you could hear it perfectly, you ran across the streets with your interns behind you. You jump at the scene and fight off the villains. Your interns fought the sidekicks and you fought off the leader. The leader grabbed two long katanas and swung them right at you, you swung right to left with your fists up and punched her when you saw an opening, you aimed right on her face and she almost tripped as blood shot out of her nose, making a nosebleed. She dropped her weapons to the ground and one of your interns used their quirk to blast them away. She tried grabbing them but you were fast enough to block her from doing so. “YOU!” she yelled and she panted and stood steadily before charging right at you with a pocket knife.

You quickly charged right at her, making her shocked and stood frozen at that moment, you grabbed her pocket knife and pinned her hands to the ground. She kept on crying and whining like a child. “It’s not fair!! You’re bullying me!! GUYS!!!~” and gosh she was annoying, so you grabbed a cloth and tied it around her mouth, making her whining muffled and she soon stopped whining like a bitch.

Finally, you and the interns managed to defeat them all. Turns out they were quirkless so the interns were glad they were easier than any other villains but it didn’t mean they were weak.

“OH LOOK, IT’S THE LAUGHING FREAK!” and that was heard from across the street, you look over to see a 14 year old girl laughing at you which triggered your disorder. You kept on cackling while your interns tried to help you, while one of the strict interns (kinda like Tenya Iida) walked up to the young girl and scolded her which made her stop laughing at you.

Luckily, you managed to stop laughing and calmed yourself down, “I’m alright kid, relax.” You patted the short intern and he blushed by the gesture.

The wind flows forward, feeling a nice cool breeze come across you as your hair moves towards that direction. A red winged bird rests along the building’s rooftop, looking at the people below. A H/C haired hero caught the bird’s eye, giving his pity to the hero.

—----------

H/N (Hero Name) and the interns walked back to the agency, “ahh~ hey H/N?” He turned his head towards the intern, “hm?” “could we maybe~ celebrate this win by going to a restaurant?~” the other interns shook their heads in agreement and H/N wanted to make their day better and so he agreed, the interns were in joy as they high fived which made you chuckle. Everyone got cleaned up with their wounds and scars from the weapons the villains had and after they finished, they all went ahead and went out to find a place to eat.

It was rather amusing how they would fight like siblings on where they were gonna eat. After all, they were just 1st and 2nd years at high school. There were 5 of them, 3 of them are from Shiketsu while the 2 were U.A students from the first year’s support course and the second year’s hero course. Finally you all found a place to eat, you booked a table that was given to you on the spot and you all sat down, the waiter went in moments later to give the menu. You scanned over the listing of food, the interns found what they wanted and so you called a waiter nearby. The waiter walked over and grabbed their little notebook and pen.

“I want soba, and I want it cold!”

“Can I get the spicy curry?”

“I’ll have the soba too but make it warm.”

“I’ll have the normal curry?”

“Ugh~ you guys are so not original, I’ll like katsudon.”

The waiter noted all of their orders, “H/N? C’mon! Order!” you were still finding a meal and decided on the [F/N] (it means food name!), “I’ll just get the F/N,” the waiter noted that down and bowed to excuse themself to leave the table. The interns went ahead and talked about school and some places they should go to after school while M/N just grabbed his phone and paid attention to that ‘till the food arrived.

After waiting for a while. The food finally came in nice and hot, well– except for the intern who ordered his soba cold and one ordered hers warm. “Itadakimasu!” they all said before eating the meal. The interns kept on chatting and chatting while eating and after they finished, the students went ahead while H/N paid for the meals they had.

—--------------------

“Bye H/N!” the interns shouted goodbye to H/N as he waved back goodbye. H/N walked along the streets while others gave him an disgusted or awkward look as they went by him. Eventually, he stopped and looked at the starry night as the moon shines in the streets. A sudden tap on his shoulder made him look back to see a rather shorter/taller hero with huge red wings, “you seem to be alone, H/N.” The taller/shorter hero sighed, “and what exactly do you want, Hawks?” Hawks chuckled, “I hoped to keep you company. After all, us heroes should stick together.” H/N hesitates on his words, “you should ask some citizens, they think otherwise,” H/N mumbled. “Ah– You’re not exactly the one with many fans,” “oh! No, hah– I do have fans but I don’t often see them in person, I often see my haters during my patrols. I know I have fans, mainly because I saw them praise me on social media all around the world,” the H/C hero explained to the blonde hero.

“Oh.. You must have it hard, huh?” the blonde mumbled to the H/C. He chuckled and patted the taller/shorter’s shoulder, “I ain’t letting them affect my hero work so don’t sweat it Hawks.” Now Hawks had a tint of blush by H/N’s soft smile and smiled back. Hawks grabbed H/N by the shoulder while smiling, “how about we hang out sometime during our patrols?” Hawks suggested and H/N nodded in agreement.

It was rather simple on how the two of them met.

━━━εïз━━━

- You both probably have been friends for about 2-3 years perhaps? Hawks was around his 20’s and yet, he was up in the top 10 rankings! So you both are rather close and would suggest the other for some missions. Maybe even lucky if you both were assigned to the same mission!

- I would see Hawks as someone who seems relaxed and carefree but really, he’s just a very aware man who is a bit anxious at times. But when he met you, he became more calm and less anxious. Of course, he’s still as aware as before.

- Hawks wouldn’t give a flying fuck about your disorder, he finds it as just a trait of yours and he shouldn’t be uncomfortable about it.

- There was this one time when you and Hawks were on a collaboration patrol. You started cackling and he literally started to panic! He was so worried your outburst of laughter was hurting you which actually is hurting you but he thought you would die from it–

The poor man was panicking, going: “you okay?!” , “SOMEONE GET HELP!” , “a-are you dying?!”

- He doesn’t know much about your disorder so he would do research on it. Not only that, he would ask you a bunch of questions.

━━━εïз━━━

“H/N!!” was the thing that drew you into this mess.

The battleground.

Everything was a mess. There were heroes and a lot of villains, some used to be in the LOV who joined that group. H/N was trying his best to stand his grounds and survive that disaster. A sudden building broke to pieces in mere seconds, falling along the grounds. H/N was about to be hit by a huge piece but a ton of feathers prevented the accident from happening. He looked to the side where it came from and found Hawks by the end of the side.

"Are you alright?” Hawks asked, H/N nodded in reply and ran off to fend off some villains coming his way. H/N was about to strike a kick towards the villain’s head but a hand blocked the side of his face and knocked your leg down. H/N jumped back and ran towards him with his hands ready to take a hit on him. A sudden gust of wind knocked H/N from behind, feelling the air from his lungs shot out. "AH!" was what he gasped before he fell to the ground, already gasping for air. "That was one of my weakest moves! And yet, here you are already gasping for air! How pathetic.." a female voice insulted Him. He felt a sudden force pull him by the hair, making him wince in pain.

A chuckle turned into a sudden eruption of laughter from his throat, “huh?” the voice spoke. She stayed silent as she listened to the hero’s cackle. “What a freak!-- Wow..! I never thought a hero would laugh at a time like this?” She chuckled as she pulled his hair even harder and pushed the male’s head to the ground, feeling the dirt and rubble in his face and some in his eyes. She continues smashing H/N’s head to the ground like a rag doll, already tasting the disgusting ground in his mouth.

“What the fuck?- SHIT!-” a scream was heard behind him as her scream became distant and soon stopped. The hyena hero lifted his head with his now messy hair and his face busted and dirty with dirt and rubble along with tears from laughter from the outbreak from before, to see Hawks! “Are you alright?” H/N sat up and standed up with his help and hugged him tight quickly before pulling back, “I’m alright, thank you.” He did a quick bow out of respect. The hero looked around to see police cars and ambulances with police putting away the villains while the medical helped the wounded. “You should go get yourself treated, you might have a concussion from the constant smashing,” the pro hero suggested and the other pro nodded and walked up to the ambulance near him, he looked at the other hero within a distance and gave a small smile, “thank goodness he’s alright,” he said softly with a sigh.

He realised something and he blushed, “why would I care this much about him?” It was odd for him to care a bit too much about H/N. He covered his mouth with his palm and blushed more, “could I?- Like him??” he mentally questioned himself. He brushed the feeling off as he walked off to check on the villains and the civilians who had gotten hurt during the battle.

━━━εïз━━━

- Ever since he felt that after that mission? He is confused. Does he like you or does he not? The answer is: He doesn’t know. :DD

- He always thought of that feeling and whenever you were near him, he would question why he was blushing a dark red.

- Maybe he would be more flirtatious and more carefree around you.

- It did make you uncomfortable and confused but you got used to his flirts.

- He doesn’t panic that much anymore whenever you have your sudden outbursts. He just asks if you’re okay and if you need anything, which it’s honestly sweet!

[Gosh- I suck at writing the sudden realisation of love for another person-]

- I think he would cling to you more often during the first week of realising his feelings for you.

- If you’re someone who people like to call  “oblivious,” then you would probably be oblivious to his obvious flirts and how he clings onto you during the first week.

- If you’re someone who isn’t oblivious, then you would’ve already figured out the changes in his personality around you.

- Maybe some of you can catch on to something easily and you have already figured it out but just played along.

━━━εïз━━━

The two heroes hung out often during their patrols. For, it may be good for their teamwork and their interns and sidekicks could get along well. But the two became a bit too close- Too close to the point they have an entire ship fandom.

You: (You can think of another reaction you would have) You are honestly surprised and a bit embarrassed. It’s kinda common to ship two people, one being straight and one being S/L (Sexuality Label). Though- You THINK Hawks is gay- Right?

Hawks: HE IS BLUSHING. I AM SAYING that he blushes each time he sees fanart or little edits, just anything that involves you both being shipped. He is all in with being bisexual (I headcanon him as bisexual, shhshsh) but he doesn’t know your sexuality so he’s worried.

=━━━εïз━━━=

"Hm?" A sudden notification alarmed the hero who was having his day off. He looked over to see a text from his contacts.

[Birdbrain]

Heyyyy wannaa hang out? I know a great place 👀

[You]

Suree

Wait- rn?

[Birdbrain]

NOT RN-

How about an hour from now?-

We can meet up at 8:35?

‘Ah, so an hour later,’ M/n thought to himself.

[You]

Ohhhh, kk

Location?

[Birdbrain]

*Insert Location Link*

[You]

Tyy

--

M/n turned off his phone and relaxed while deciding whether or not he should get ready now or later. ‘Hmmmm, later~’ he decided in his head.

Minutes later, he was panicking because he waited too long and the time was 8:22 which means he only got 13 minutes left and the ride would be 7 minutes long. It took mere seconds for him to get ready, just a plain white t-shirt and grey sweatpants with a red flannel.

--------

Keigo was outside the place, looking around to try to spot his ‘friend’ who’s more of his crush. He finally saw his crush’s figure and started to wave over to him. “Ah! Haw-” Keigo immediately slammed his hand over M/n’s mouth, stopping him from finishing his sentence. “Please don’t call me that, I’m undercover because of the media,” Keigo muttered out as he took his hand off M/n. “So that’s why your wings are small?” Keigo nodded, “yes.”

There was a long pause before M/n asked, “what do I call you then?-” Keigo thought it over back in his apartment before he headed out, “Keigo..” he mumbled, “sorry?” “Keigo Takami, that’s my real name,” he muttered loud enough for M/n to hear. “Alright! So, shall we go inside, Takami?” M/n suggested. “Sure,” Takami said with a smile.

[Yeah so I’m not gonna write about the little hangout they did, let’s just say that you guys had a little cafe date, sorryy!]

------------------------

“You alright?” M/n nudged over to Takami, “hm? Oh! Y-Yeah- I’m alright.” “You sure?” Keigo nodded, “yes, don’t worry about it,” he chuckled.

The walk was silent for a while but Keigo finally broke the silence, “can I- Erm- Tell you something?” “Sure.” Hawks took a deep breath before saying, “I may have a crush on you.”

“....”

“M/n..?”

“Why? Someone with a disadvantage? Just- Why?”

The walk was at a stop as M/n turned to look Keigo in his eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck about your disorder and neither should you! It’s unique and it may be a bother but it’s just you- Your personality, you have ambitions and I admire that and I’m sure others admire that as well about you. Your quirk is amazing and you have amazing skills that not a lot of heroes have, you are respected by a lot of heroes and fans and you shouldn’t give a fuck about your haters. I just really love you for the way you are and how you’re kind and also strong and brave. I love your fighting style and it’s unique just like you-” Keigo was stopped in his rant as a pair of lips pressed against his. Keigo’s eyes widened as he saw his own crush kissing him. Keigo closed his eyes and enjoyed the short yet passionate kiss.

M/n was the first to pull back from the kiss. “Sorry- You were ranting,” M/n apologised, “ah- No no! It’s fine-” M/n grabbed both of Keigo’s hands and held them in his hands, “to your confession. I also like you a lot, you’re smart, strong, and funny and well, handsome as well,” M/n confessed with a smile. “You can call me Keigo since- We’re now dating, you know? Though, don’t call me that when we’re on duty,” Keigo exclaimed, “of course, and you can just call me M/n when we’re off duty,” M/n softly spoke.

Keigo hugged M/n tight. Finally, he’s dating the man of his dreams.

»☆═ ━━━εïз━━━ ═☆«

★☽A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this! I honestly was laughing while writing the last few paragraphs since I never exactly wrote something romantic- Oh! And, thank you all for the 100+ notes on Hawks Headcanons! Notes/Likes are always appreciated and please do follow me if you ever want to support my work or know whenever I post something new! <33

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