Tumgik
#(if you hear me singing in this no you don’t!!!)
luveline · 2 days
Note
would you ever write a ditsy!reader with sirius? where he's grumpy and she's just giggly and makes him feel a little less grumpy? I love you and your writing sending kisses <3
I love you
Fuck’s sake. Sirius glares at the TV. Fuck off. 
“What’s it say?” you call from the kitchen. 
“It’s raining all weekend.” 
“No way, really?” You appear with a tea towel in your hands, wiping your fingers dry one at a time. “Shit, sorry, baby. I guess we better get out our rain ponchos.” 
Sirius loves concerts, but he hates shitty weather. “What if they cancel?” 
“I don’t think they’ll cancel.” You put the tea towel on the coffee table and gesture for him to do something. What it is you want is unclear, but Sirius leans back, and, as usual, you make yourself at home in his lap. Gentle but not shy. “We might get a bit muddy, is all.” 
You rest your ribs half on his chest and half against the sofa. This close, he can confess to finding you the kind of beautiful that makes his jaw ache. Being around you is like a constant re-realisation that you’re his amazing girl, his one good love, as he likes to put it. Romance has never felt more real to him than when he’s with you, slipping his arm behind your back, and letting your nose at his jawline. Then the man on TV says the area is at risk of thunder and lightning on Saturday and he forgets to be in love. 
“Fucking hell,” he complains, clinging to you as though you have the power to change what the weatherman has to say. 
“It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking,” you sing-song back. 
“No, we’ll be turned to husks when we’re struck by lightning, but I’m sure it’ll be great.” 
“So negative,” you murmur, drawing along his collar. 
“I’m being realistic, lovely, our weekend is completely ruined.” 
“That’s not true, is it? Your weekend is ruined. Mine is the same as it was, because I don’t care if it rains on Metallica, I just want to spend time with you.” 
“You’re such a dick,” he says through a soft laugh. 
“Why? Because I am clearly the more loving partner?” you tease. 
“Yes. Because I don’t care about you at all, I only care about the concert, and spending time with you means nothing to me.” 
“Oh, well when you put it like that,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss his neck softly. Short presses of your lips with the faintest of sounds, then you're giggling. He’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d run with the honeyed smile he wears now. He would never hear the end of it. 
“I’ll have to find your anorak,” he says, rubbing a loving path down your back. 
“We’ll get the thermals out of the attic. Don’t worry, baby, the rain won’t ruin all your fun.” You kiss him again, and laugh like you’ve made a joke he isn’t privy to. 
“What’s funny?” he asks. 
“I just love you when you’re mad.” 
“I’m not mad.” 
“Aggrieved, then.” You lift your face only to hold his and press your nose to his cheek. You move your face back and forth, like a hurried nuzzling. “You’re such a downer.” 
“Stop it.” 
“Make me,” you say through giggles. 
He closes his eyes and turns in for a proper kiss. 
455 notes · View notes
suguwu · 22 hours
Text
WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE
Tumblr media
The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.
When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.
You forget, but Gojo—
Gojo never does.
Tumblr media
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
masterlist
pairing: gn!reader x gojo
wc: 2.6k
notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!
content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.
Tumblr media
The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.
You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.
The servants, however, are louder.
One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 
“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 
Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 
“It’s true, though!”
“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 
She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 
You return to your coloring book.
The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.
Not yet. 
There’s a boy in the courtyard.
He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 
You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 
“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.
You stay quiet.
“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”
He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.
It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.
Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 
“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 
He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”
You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 
He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”
“Are you?”
“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”
“Nope.”
He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 
You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—
“You’re just a boy,” you say. 
He scowls. “Am not.”
“Are too.” 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”
You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.
When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.
The Gojo boy is gone.
Your mother is hovering. 
She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 
“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”
You nod. 
There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.
The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.
“Oh, it’s you.”
You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 
You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 
Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”
The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 
He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”
“Hey!” 
“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”
You throw yourself at him.
His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 
By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.
“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”
The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”
“No.” 
Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 
“I’ll train with them,” he says.
“Gojo-sama—”
“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 
The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 
Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  
He’s out the shoji before you can respond.
Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 
“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”
“Am not!”
“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”
“You’re annoying.”
He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  
“You’re the one who came over.”
He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”
“How come?”
“How come what?”
“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”
He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”
“I just do,” he says, voice flat.
You don’t ask again.
“Why are we here?”
Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”
Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 
“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”
He shrugs. “They insisted.”
“Who?”
He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 
You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.
“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”
He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”
“They didn’t specify.”
“Ugh.”
“Gojo-sama—”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 
You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 
“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”
The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”
He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”
“They cannot.”
“I said they’re coming.” 
“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 
Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.
“Fine.” 
You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.
The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.
You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.
You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 
You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.
A voice wakes you.
“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”
“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”
You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.
“It’s not enough.” 
“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 
The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t.” 
“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”
Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:
“I don’t think he’s human at all.”
Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 
Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 
“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 
He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“But my shoes—”
He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 
“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 
He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.
He’s never looked more human to you.
The next time you see him, you’re prepared.
You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Give me your arm.” 
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” 
He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.
You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 
“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”
Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 
You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 
You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 
Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 
The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 
Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 
You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 
Gojo, though—
Gojo never does.
333 notes · View notes
eloquentlytired · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
— when the time comes, part two
pairing: logan howlett x gn! reader
part one is here
drabble,fluff, wade is briefly here <3 and blind al (slay)
summary: perhaps logan’s wish to find you in a different timeline comes true. and this time he doesn't only find you, but wade as well.
author’s note: I was wondering if I should add laura somehow to this scene but I think it came out perfect like this! what if I make a part three for the dinner/table scene where they're all together with wade though enjoy babies !!! this low-key made me cryyy... as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^
“this is logan.”
you turn around as wade’s voice echoes within the small apartment. you'd been roommates for a while since you both were struggling with rent and this sort of arrangement had been quite beneficial. your friendship with wade had flourished in no time and you had somehow managed to become less anxious with his help, always having silly laughs and finding nice things even in the toughest situations.
you begin moving away from the kitchen area as you hear a dialogue going on — wade, al and a voice that didn't remind you of anything.
“finally, sweet cheeks. thought i’d have to start a new pissing ritual for you to show up!” wade chimes while placing a hand on his hip and looking straight at you. Whatever follows after, it never reaches your ears.
you stand there frozen, spatula falling from your hands, as your gaze stares at the man behind wade. you don’t know him but at the same time you do. that messy hair, that beard and those eyes. whoever that man was, he must have felt what you were feeling as he also stills by wade’s side. the silence that follows is long and awkward for the others but not for you and this man; at least that's what wade points out and ruins the moment. “right. if you're done eye fucking each other — and by the way sweet cheeks I thought we had something special — but yes if you're done..” wade walks towards you and gently pushes the goofiest dog ever in your hands. what the fuck?
“—I have a bath to run. gotta get those pores unclogged before my big party.” you tried to protest but wade was already gone and al was leaving as well, muttering something about holy sugar time.
the pair of eyes across you never leave yours. you stare back at the strange man named logan; at least that's what you'd heard wade call him. “I...nice to meet you.” you finally whisper while slowly setting the dog down, your hand instinctively reaching towards logan. the taller man leans forward as well and holds your hand, shaking it in the process. “i’m logan. thanks for having me.” he murmurs and for a man his size, you didn't anticipate such simplicity and gentleness in his voice. your eyes fill with unshed tears and for an unknown reason logan reaches out to wipe them away before they stain your cheeks. you shudder at the strange familiarity of those warm digits upon your skin. logan swallows thickly. “do I know you?” he asks and you look at him with wide, sparkly eyes. you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. “it feels like it, doesn't it?” was the only reply you could offer him as he nods.
a moment passes. then two. logan drops his hand from your face, realizing the boundaries he's crossing. not that you really minded his touch. you quickly compose yourself and wipe the remaining wetness from your face before shifting your gaze in between logan and the kitchen.
“are- are you hungry,logan?” you suddenly ask, your voice kind of shaky.
the surprise on his face lasts briefly before a small but genuine smile settles on his features. “yeah. starving actually.” you chuckle. he does too.
as logan follows you into the kitchen, and despite wade’s awful singing coming from the bathroom, you think about the cheapest bed you can buy tomorrow for the third addition in your family.
176 notes · View notes
pinkponyclubbb3 · 1 day
Text
Casual part 2
summary: y/n and Chris haven’t talked since the incident a couple months ago. They run into each other at a party Chris hates how much y/n is messing around with people who are not him.
warnings: Drinking,Cussing, dry humping, degrading, praise, public (?) sex , spanking
check my bio if u wanna be tagged in future fics
Tumblr media
“Yeah, long as my bitches love me!” I sing to the mirror while I apply my blush. A lot has changed in the last couple of months. I realized I liked smoking and drinking.I cut Chris off, and with that, I haven’t talked to Nick or Matt. I still have a lot of love for them, but it’s hard to converse with someone who has the same face as my… ex. I’m not sure what to call him.
I get up and look through my closet. As i’m looking through my dress I find an all familiar looking hoodie. Fresh Love. I stare at it for a couple seconds and sigh. “Casual.” I scoff.
(flashback)
He takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his pajama pants, and gets into bed. He holds me in his arms and kisses my head. I hear him sigh, assuming he closed his eyes to sleep. His arms are wrapped around me, and I can’t help but think about everything that has happened. As I stare into space memories are flooding back. What am I doing? Letting him hold me and kiss me after what he told me earlier. “Chris.” I tap his arm. “Hmm” he whines. “Chris I want to go home.” I say with my eyes watering. Tears threatening to come out if I blink.
“What? Why?” He says in his tired voice. “You really hurt my feelings, Chris.” I’m avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t know i’m a blink away from crying. He sits up and sighs out of frustration. “What do you want from me, y/n?”
“I want you, Chris. How are you going to tell me everything we’ve done meant nothing to you?” He takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to stop himself from whatever was going to come out of his mouth. “I’ll tell Matt to take you home, he’ll pick you up to get your car in the morning.” That’s it? I stand up putting on a random hoodie and sweats. I stare at him waiting for a ‘just kidding’ or ‘i’m joking’ but it never comes. “I hate you.”
(end of flashback)
I ordered my Uber and put on my heels while I waited. I’m wearing a short, tight leopard print dress with knee-high heel boots. I look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look okay. I nod satisfied that everything came out good. I get a notification that my Uber is outside.
“For y/n?” I give him a smile and nod. Fuck he’s fine. I get in the backseat and buckle up. We don’t speak, but I catch him staring at me in the mirror. Sinful thoughts flood my mind. I squeeze my thighs together feeling how soaked i’m getting. Get it together y/n. I think to myself. “You headed to a party?” I nod “Yup.”
I look through my bag and pull out a mini vodka bottle. I twist the top and open my mouth to pour the liquid. He looks at me while biting back a smile. “You know I could get you in trouble for that?” I look at him and see he’s already looking at me through the review mirror. “Yeah? Wanna get me in trouble?” I ask him flirtatiously.
“Mhm. Want to teach you a lesson about drinking in strangers' cars.” I swipe my teeth with my tongue. “Come show me what happens to girls when they break the rules then.” He smirks at me and shakes his head. We’ve arrived at the party and I see cars filling up the parking spaces. He parks and unbuckles his seatbelt. I smile while biting my lip excited for what’s about to happen. He opens his door and joins me in the back.
“Wanna find out what happens to bad girls?” I bring my hand to his hair and start twisting it. “Mhm.” He sits me down on his thigh and grabs both my wrists, holding them behind my back. He smashes his lips on mine, desperate to taste me. He moves my hips, so I grind on his thigh, making me moan and giving his tongue access to my mouth. His jeans are pressing on my clothed clit. He guides my hips to start dry-humping his thigh. He takes the top of my dress and lowers it exposing my tits.
“So perfect.” He tightly grabs my left tit and slaps it. “Mm fuck.” I start grinding faster ready for any sort of release. “You like being slapped around?” I nod unable to give him a verbal answer. My head thrown back, my mouth opened and eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth while looking up at me taking my nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around and biting down. Profanities leaving my mouth. The knot in my stomach starts forming letting me know how close I am. “Keep doing that I’m so close.” He grips my hips keeping me in place and stopping the friction.
“W-what?” He grips my hair, forcing me to look up. “You think bad girls get to cum?” I shake my head no. “Words,y/n,” he says. “No, they don’t get to cum.” He leans closer and starts kissing my neck. “Please let me finish .” He lets go of my hair so I can look at him. I grab his shoulders and start the rhythm again. “Please? I’ll be so good for you. Let me show you how bad I need you.” He starts sucking on my neck, assuming he is leaving hickeys.
I feel his hand grip my tits again. He uses his thumb to play with my nipple. It doesn’t take long for that feeling in my stomach to come back. “Such a good fucking girl getting off on my thigh.” I nod relentlessly getting closer to my orgasm. “Fuck i’m close.” He grips my hips making me go at a faster pace getting to my climax quicker.
I reach my orgasm and can’t help but chant profanities. My legs twitch as I finish feeling a little overstimulated. I let go of his shoulders and lay my head on his shoulder. “Fuck that felt so good.” I can feel his erection. I pull up my dress and get off his lap. He grabs my face and starts kissing me again. I reach into my bag and pull out another bottle. “Here let me get that.” he takes the bottle from me and opens it. “Open wide, princess.” I open my mouth as he pours it all into me.
“Such a good girl. Swallow for me, yeah?” I swallowed tightly, closing my eyes as I felt the drink burning my throat. “Thanks for getting me off. I’d love to continue, but I have a party to go to.” I tap his face and open the door. As I adjust my dress, I look up and meet eyes with the triplets. “Hi, guys!” I say casually. “What were you doing?” you mean who? I laugh at my joke but can’t say it aloud. “What? nothing just got dropped off from my uber.” As I say that the driver exits the back seat. Please don’t say anything I say to myself.
The boys look at me in disbelief. I see jealousy and anger in Chris’s eyes. “That was fun, mama. Maybe next time we’ll finish what we started, " he says, getting into the front seat and driving away. My eyes widen but I can’t help but laugh. “Who was that?” Chris asks angrily. I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not sure I never got his name.” I run to pull Matt and Nick into a hug. “My favorite triplets how are you!” I give them a kiss on the cheek. “We’re good i’ve missed you.” Nick says. Chris pulls me away from them. He signals his brothers to start walking inside.
“Pull your fucking dress down. I can see your thong.” My eyes widened, and I immediately pulled my dress down. “Were you fucking him?” God, I hate how beautiful he is. “And if I was?” I ask, challenging him. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” He looks so serious. I can’t tell if I’m scared or turned on. “What if I told you he got me off? Would that make you mad?” His jaw is clenched. He lifts my chin so I can’t look anywhere but his face. “Don’t test me, y/n.” I slap his hand away from my face. “Don’t be mad Chris. We were just casual remember?” I walk away from him and go inside.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
Body’s are grinding up against each other. It smells like a mix of weed, sweat, and alcohol. I’m past tipsy at this point. I haven’t talked to anyone all night, but I’m enjoying myself, so that’s all that matters. One of my favorite songs comes on and I leave the bar to go dance. I’d usually be embarrassed but I have too much alcohol in my system to care. I feel someone behind me. I turn around to meet eyes with a stranger. “I’m Dean.” I continue dancing. “Yeah I don’t care let’s just dance.”
he grabs my hips and so i’m basically grinding on him. Our body’s moving in sync as we move to the beat of the music. The lights are flashing. I look around and see everyone enjoying themselves. “Didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.” I roll my eyes. I don’t want to get to know him I just want to dance. “Didn’t throw it.” I find drunk me hilarious. I see Matt dancing with a random girl. He’s smiling while his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. That girl is bent over dancing? Looks more like foreplay. Dean guides his hands all over my body.
I feel eyes on me. I look to my right and see Chris sitting at the bar, watching me like a hawk. I give him a wink and bring my attention back to Dean. I turn around to face him. Our faces are inches apart. He leans in to kiss me. He’s not bad-looking but doesn’t compare to the man in the Uber or … Chris. I hate how much I think about him. I give his tongue access to explore my mouth. I feel him bite my lower lip, and his hand is placed on my lower back. He pushes me closer to him to deepen the kiss.
I back up to go back to dancing. I regret that, I tell myself. This must be what post-nut clarity feels like. I look to my right again and see Chris chug his drink and slam the glass down. He gets up and walks over to me. “She’s taken.” Before I had the chance to protest, he starts dragging me off the dance floor. “What the fuck?” He doesn’t stop until we reach a bathroom. The bathroom has a red light instead of a normal one. He slams the door and locks it.
(A/n: if you can listen to music and read you should listen to ‘Bathroom by ‘Montell Fish’ for this scene)
I'm not sure what’s going to happen next, but a part of me can’t wait to find out. “So you’re just slutting yourself out tonight, huh?” I was taken aback, my eyebrows furrowed. “What I do is none of your business.” I poke his chest with my pointer finger. With a quick movement, he turns me around and bends me over the sink so I’m staring at him and myself in the mirror. He traces my ass with his fingers and smacks hard. “Fuck.”
“Such a bad, bad girl.” he taunts. Too speechless to say anything, I watch him through the mirror. I see him take off his belt while refusing to break eye contact. Once it’s out, he lifts my dress slowly. He folds his belt in his hands and taunts me with it. I hiss when the coldness of the leather makes contact with my ass. He takes his fingers and pulls my underwear to the side. “Spread your legs for me, princess.” I do what he says. He takes the leather in his hands and uses it to touch my wet pussy.
Once he finishes teasing me, he uses all his force to spank me with it. I grip the sink, shutting my eyes from the pain. “Fuck Chris!” I hear him laugh. He doesn’t give me a chance to recover before he hits me again. I throw my head back. A mix of pain and pleasure fills my body. “Does it hurt?” I look at him with tears swelling in my eyes.”mhm” He takes his fingers and inserts them into my folds. “Your body is telling me otherwise.” He turns me around to face him. He kneels down onto his knees. He doesn’t say a word and just flattens his tongue and licks my wet pussy. My eyes roll back and my hands grip harder on the sink
He takes the tip of his tongue to tease my clit. “O-oh my god-” he takes his two fingers and teases my entrance. He starts sucking on my clit while he inserts his fingers. My breath quickens when his fingers start fucking me at a fast pace. “Yes just like that, Chris.” I say in a whisper too overwhelmed by the pleasure. His fingers curl inside of me making me give pornographic moans. Chris's grin widens as he feels me getting closer and closer to the edge. He increases the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of me rapidly while his mouth sucks on my clit The room fills with my loud moans and the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of me.
Chris pulls out his fingers, leaving me panting and desperate. He turns me around to face the mirror, pushing my hips against the sink and spreading my legs apart. He steps back and looks at our reflection, his eyes dark with desire. "Look at yourself," I don’t say anything. Trying to catch my breath. “Look at how ready you are for me..." He runs his hands down my back, grabbing my hips and positioning himself behind me. He lines himself up with my entrance, his eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. “Please Chris I need you so fucking bad.”
Chris grips my hips tightly and slowly pushes into me. His face contorts in pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. He leans over me, his hot breath on my neck. "Eyes on the mirror," he growls, pulling back and thrusting into me again, harder this time. “F-fuck!” I can’t help but close my eyes, too overwhelmed with euphoria. I feel his hand tangle in my hair and pull my head back. “Eyes on the mirror,y/n. Look at us.” His voice low and demanding. I pry my eyes open trying my hardest not to break contact.
Chris grins, watching my reflection as he takes me rough and hard. His thrusts are deep and punishing, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin. His eyes flick down to where we’re joined, watching as he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back into me. “Chris!” I scream out. We’ve had sex before but it’s never been like this. “Tell me how much you hate me,y/n.” I shake my head no refusing to tell him. “Come on you had no problem telling me a couple months ago.” he taunts. “Tell me sweetheart I want to hear it.” He pulls my hair and he thrusts hard into me.
He grinds his hips into me, the movement drawing a low, guttural moan from my throat. "Say that you hate me, y/n." He can see the resistance in my eyes, but also the undeniable heat between my thighs. He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You hate me...say it..." I nod giving in. “I hate you with everything in me, Chris.”
He grins darkly, his hand tightening in my hair as he pistons into me harder. "Louder," he demands. "I want to hear you scream that you hate me while I'm buried inside you.” He bites down on my neck, sucking hard as he continues to pound into me. “I- fucking hate you.” his other hand comes around and starts rubbing my clit. “Atta girl.” I start panting at the contact he’s making with my clit. “Look in the mirror… Look at how much you hate me.”
He watches our reflection his eyes dark with lust. I shut my eyes feeling my orgasm slowly approaching. “Don’t close your eyes.” He demands. “Watch us.” I force my eyes open again. He slams into me one last time, his fingers rubbing furiously against my clit as he buries himself deep inside me. “Chris! I’m cumming!” my body shaking and convulsing around him.
He pulls out of me and forces me on my knees. “Open wide, baby let me feel all of you.” He grips my hair as he guides me to his cock. He pushes himself into my mouth. His length filling me up. My eyes immediately watering as I look up at him. His pace quickens,his thrusts becoming shallower as he’s about to cum. His face contorts in pleasure as he comes undone. His grip in my hair tightens painfully. He watches me struggle to swallow his cum, tears in my eyes.
He pulls out of my mouth, breathing heavily while wiping my chin. His face hardens, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He leans down and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. "Say 'thank you, Chris, for letting me swallow'," he demands coldly. I can feel the wetness between my thighs build up again. “Thank you, Chris” I say quietly. His smirk widens and he nods approvingly. “Such a good girl.”
He helps me up and pulls my dress down. “Sorry for being so rough with you.” sorry? “I need to sleep with more men if it means you’ll fuck me like that.” I say sarcastically. His eyes darken not finding that funny. “Let’s go back to the party.” I fix myself up in the mirror. “Alcohol isn’t good for me.” I say as fix my top.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
A/N: hope you enjoyed part two!!!! the smut is something different from my other posts i hope you liked it!! check my pinned post to find out how to be tagged in future fics!!
tagged list:
@naisblogsblog @eliana-4200
@mattstromboli
@grace-sturnz
@watercolorskyy
@taliaslutiolo
@gracielovssturniolo
@mylove4lana
@sturniolosweetheart33
@lovevelyn
@siennasturnn
@blahbel668
@obsessionsarenotfortheweak
@tpwktahlz
@probablyoutyappingorsomething
@dianasturniolo
@sturnburbs
@owensbabygirl
90 notes · View notes
violetisconfused · 1 day
Text
Okay okay okay. Hear me out: Apollo x Telemachus.
I know I sound mental rn but it would be REALLY funny, and honestly kinda cute. Like you cannot deny that Telemachus would be Apollo’s type. I fear local pretty young prince is exactly the kinda person Apollo would be like “yeah I’d hit” and Tel would honestly probably go from “why is this god talking to me so often?” to “wait is he flirting with me?” to “wait but I don’t like men… but like Apollo’s kinda cute… wait no!” to “okay so maybe I like men but do I wanna get involved with a god?” pipeline of self discovery era all because the god of archery and music came down and started flirting one day
Athena is VERY unimpressed with her half brother for this one of course 😔 she is in fact their biggest hater (Ody is close in second he wants Apollo AWAY from his child)
Penelope and Hermes are very supportive of the relationship though. Penelope more in a “as long as you’re happy and he doesn’t hurt you or get you hurt I’m fine with it” way. Hermes though, he actively encouraged Apollo to start flirting with Telemachus to begin with (great grandpa being a wingman to get you set up with a god? More likely than you think)
As for the rest of the Olympians? Zeus is wondering why his existence is haunted by Odysseus and his family, same with Poseidon. Artemis is entirely unsurprised her twin brother has decided to start dating a mortal prince, it’s very on brand for him. Ares couldn’t care less, same with Hephaestus. Aphrodite is actually a big fan only because she can tell that Apollo genuinely likes Telemachus. Hera is indifferent about it but I like to imagine that after God Games she’s a slightly better step mom so she’s relatively supportive of Apollo’s prince rizzing endeavors.
The relationship itself is surprisingly highly functional and really normal despite Apollo being a god. For a long time Telemachus makes an internal vow to himself not to fall in love too much because he’s aware that Apollo tends to switch up on how much he loves his lovers sometimes and doesn’t wanna get hurt but after a very long discussion and Apollo swearing he’s serious about this (like Hyacinth levels of serious about this. Bro is LOCKED IN) and after staying up literally all night thinking about it Telemachus decides to seriously give this a chance and stop acting weird and it goes extremely well actually. They hang out daily, usually in like the woods or something or down by the shore where there isn’t anybody around simply because neither of them really wanna deal with other people knowing they’re together. It isn’t because either one is ashamed of the other or anything, just simply wanting privacy and knowing they wouldn’t get that with Telemachus being prince and Apollo being a literal god so people would probably just be staring the whole time.
Apollo also gives Telemachus gifts like crazy. He’ll write him love poems and songs all the time and is always equally as excited to show him every time (Telemachus is always just as excited to hear it because he’s never had anyone love him like this before)
Now the funniest part of this whole thing: the era where Apollo is trying to woo Telemachus. He 100% used serenading but stopped after Odysseus tried to shoot him with an arrow (to be fair it was the 10th time Apollo was outside the palace singing so the attempted shooting was pretty valid. Ody wanted his sleep)
Then Apollo started bugging Athena and tagging along with her whenever she’d visit the royal family (she knew what he was trying to do but there’s no stopping Apollo once he wants to woo somebody. Not for a lack of obvious hating though. Very actively hates on his flirting. Apollo is extremely un-subtle with his flirting too which makes it even funnier because 9/10 Telemachus just runs away because he’s never been flirted with before
Then after the flirting just turns into Telemachus avoiding Apollo at all costs (Telemachus is in his questioning his romantic attraction era during this but ofc Apollo doesn’t know this) Apollo just starts leaving love poems once a week (this goes on for about a month so four poems in total).
Then yk as I said before Telemachus decides to give it a shot blah blah blah gay people real they kiss the end 🥳
So yeah there’s me explaining my crackship. It’s essentially just: “Apollo likes pretty boys and Telemachus is a (very awkward) pretty boy”
41 notes · View notes
meraki-yao · 2 days
Text
RWRB Full-Cast Audiobook Imaginations
So with the sequel on the horizon, we’re not that far from a full-cast re-recording of the audiobook, right?
I listen to the audiobook more than I read the book, mostly because I can listen to it while doing other stuff, and no offence to the original narrator, but while it’s good, it’s not the best. I kind of cringe at his British accent for Henry.
So I have a lot of thoughts.
The thing is with an audiobook, we can get both the wonderful vocal performance of the movie cast, and the iconic book lines, the ones that didn’t, and frankly, could never have made it into the movie due to format restrictions:
Sexy explicit sex scenes
Sexy explicit sex lines “For fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night”, “I want you to fuck me”, “I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me all well”
Emails in their entirety
Email openings and endings “Huge Raging Heache Prince Henry of Who Cares”, “First Son of Shirking Responsibilities”, “Horrible Revolting Heir”, “First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege”, “Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft”
Email historical quotes “The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you”, “I meet you in every dream”
Swearing and explicit language “fucking shit” “I fucking love you, okay?”
Internal Struggle
Iconic lines that didn’t make it into the movie for adaptation and story purposes “I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you” “I love him on purpose”, “America, he is my choice”
Like, imagine hearing all of this in Taylor, in Nick, in Sarah and Uma and Ellie and Rachel and Thomas and Aneesh and Cfiton etc etc 's voice. Just imagine it!!!
Another thing to add is that to put it in simple terms, the current version of the audiobook does the dialogue lines closer to theatre acting: more enunciated, more inflection, and slower. Which is fine in its own right (I’m a theatre kid). But with the cast audiobook, hopefully, we can get them to do something closer to film acting, i.e. closer to reality, reading the lines as they would if they were to shoot those scenes.
Which is gonna make big moments like sexy times and confrontations a lot of fun :D
And something really entertaining to think about is now that we also know the cast and their dynamic is thinking about how much fun they would have while recording the book, especially when they have scenes together. And it’s not necessarily just Taynick, it’s group scenes with the whole Super Six, like the karaoke scene in chapter seven, or the Texas Holiday Scenes with Firstprince and Junora.
Like, Imagine it, the actors in the same recording studio, maybe even on the same couch:
Taylor and Nick laughing while reading off the insults from the earlier frienemies days of their relationship
Taylor and Nick squirming and playfully hitting each other when recording lines for sexy scenes like the first night, or the tack room, or Wimbledon
The cast shouting and booing (playfully) whenever someone messes up a line in their group scenes
The chaotic fun that is the LA karaoke scene, everybody’s laughing, Ellie gets to be the singular sober person while everyone else acts drunk, Nick singing Don’t Stop Me Now shittier (Nick has the voice of an angel but book Henry can’t sing for shit),
Taylor and Nick giving each other hugs after screaming at each other for the Kensington confrontation
Nick grinning smugly at every book height difference mention (:<
More of Taylor speaking Spanish!!!
Thomas gets to be a proper asshole villain who later turns into awkward older brother who's trying
Ellie gets to do the pie metaphor grief monologue  
Taylor gets to do another speech (he’s really good at delivering speeches)
 I want to quickly reiterate that I am in no way unhappy with what we got in the end for the movie; I love it to pieces. However, as Matthew and Casey said, there are two “canonical” versions of the story now, and since audiobooks are an option, it would be really nice to connect this aspect of the movie verse with the book verse in some sort of middle ground.
So yeah Audible? Amazon? Get on with it!!!
@almightaylor this was the long post I mentioned, I literally started this in July lol
40 notes · View notes
iamakinniecollector · 10 hours
Text
something stupid
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: well, I thought about it a bit and I think I'll try to write my ideas for bill cipher x reader, I love him so much, I can't wait to get his book ^^ (sorry if my english is wrong, it's not my native language, and I'm terrible at handwriting too)
warning: bill is the trigger itself, cringe, a little g0re, stalker
summary: bill can't say the words "I love you", so how does he show his love?
Tumblr media
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to hand you a bouquet made of guts, you don't know if they're made of human guts or... anyway, it definitely doesn't matter what they're made of, right?
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to sing karaoke with you while you are both completely drunk.
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to say stupid and some even silly pick-up lines, like:
“Do you come here often? what a coincidence, me too! Did you know that?" you two are in your house.
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to ask how your day was, even though he already knows what it was like because he’s been stalking you all day. You can't blame him for enjoying hearing your voice!
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to own rats and use them to spell your name on the door of his house, it’s cute in a way, but it’s extremely stressful to get all those dead rats out and he knows it.
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to watch you sleep at dawn, he listens to your breathing and the beautiful beating of your heart, but don’t worry! He doesn’t do anything to you while you sleep… every now and then you wake up with a pen scratch on your face, lucky for you that pens aren’t permanent.
— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to spoil you and at the same time be spoiled (most of the time he prefers to be spoiled), this triangle is pure need juice, he is just a pre-teen.
— Bill hates saying the words "I love you", it's a stupid and idiotic phrase that humans invented, but sometimes he can't help but feel the urge to say something stupid like: I love you.
Tumblr media
a/n: yes i made this based on the song "something stupid" let me be a stupid cringe
50 notes · View notes
ayylovley · 20 hours
Note
another Gun x reader smut with him being patient and sweet when he takes his s/o virginity pls 🥹🥹 btw ur smut is so soooo gooooddd ❤️❤️
oo ok he’ll be a little nicer than when he has a partner who hasn’t had sex and since he doesn’t really know how to be gentle it might take a couple of times but once he pops that cherry and finally gets in without pain he ain’t stopping 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 𝕾𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 & 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖗༘ ⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚
Warnings; praising, dirty talk, salivating, daddy kink, penetration, oral (fem receiving), edging, that’s all I could think of. Filth. You get the picture
Maya; I’m so sorry this took forever!
Word count; 2.6k
“Go ahead and lay down…”
Gun’s tone is a little different this time, softer than usual. But not enough to let your guard down, even so, you’ll need to be cautious. You already knew this when this is what you signed up for. “W-what position do you want me in?” You ask trying not to sound too nervous but the shakiness in your voice says it all. But Gun couldn’t help his growing sly grin.
“My, asking questions already? You’re already pleasing me like a good girl. Very well. Get on your hands and knees on the bed.”
With your body still trembling more than you’d like, you obey his soft commands and climb on the bed getting into the position that he wanted, letting your most sacred parts of your body on display for him. While you’re naked and ready for the taking, Gun takes a moment to really get a good view of you. Why rush into things? He’d like to take his time with someone who hasn’t been used up, yet.
His eyes follow every inch of you, the color of your clit and hole thats just begging for his cock to stretch it out and hear you sing. The shape of it, how tight you look, and now he wants to know how you taste. But he’ll be patient, he needs to touch you first, prepare you for what’s to come.
His fingers reach up to delicately hover and lightly caress you, to find out what part of you is the most sensitive. When his fingertips feels like a feather is tickling your hot slit, you gasp a little bringing your lower body away from his touch briefly as a reflex.
Gun catches this and bites his bottom lip already brewing up plans to get you to squirm. “I’ve found it…”
His words leave you more nervous, he’s a cold bastard and you don’t want to get on his bad side so you just wait for his next action. The pads of his fingers rub slowly and press against your throbbing area, with your lips muffled against the pillow you moan from surprise that seems to please him.
“I wouldn’t want to break you too soon, after all, you won’t be loose just yet. But I plan on making you my little slut after this night.”
His words leaves your heart swelling beneath your chest trying to process what you’ve gotten yourself into. But there’s no regrets, you wanted this and so did he. More so he wanted this first but his seduction and how hypnotizing he could be you just fell apart. Gun continues to use his fingers from one hand, the sound of flicking from a cigarette fills your ears from behind you. Even when he’s about to fill you up he needs a damn cigarette? With the hand that isn’t violating your cunt, he uses it to inhale the needed nicotine down his throat before letting out a content sigh.
The smell of the stick waves under your nose as you keep feeling his light touches upon your area. You’ll give it time before you decide to beg, but the longer you wait the more the nerves build up. Finally when the tip of a wet muscle drags down your sensitive skin, you gasp again becoming a slight moaning mess from just two or three dragging licks from his tongue. You could hear the evil chuckles behind you, making his breath blow on the spot.
“It seems that you’re so desperate for pleasure and you won’t beg? Now I’m curious. Let’s see how long this lasts…”
A few few more strokes, he sees the view of the delicious sound of your slick leaking out of your core “mm, you taste so good. I wanna taste every inch of you.” There’s a groan past his lips before he buries his whole face into her pussy practically inhaling it. His teeth sucking on your sensitive spot oh-so-gently. You can practically see stars from how he’s treating your virgin area more gentle than you’d thought while at the same time he clearly wants to devour you.
“Mm, still won’t beg?”
He resurfaced and rubs the digit of his index finger across your aching clit, your hands fingers clench on the bed. At this point you’ll break apart and he hasn’t even done anything yet. That might be embarrassing for you. So you’ll swallow your pride and nerves, “Gun… please! Please, please fuck me!” The hint of whiny tones that escape your lips make Gun smirk almost menacingly “Now was that so hard, princess? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. For now.”
You stay in the doggy position on the bed while you prepare for Gun’s thick cock ahead. The rub across your slit from his tip followed by a sudden slap with his shaft sending a loud wet ‘smack’ sound. You joint up earning a little yelp, making Gun groan turning into a little dark chuckle “it seems that you want it more than you lead on.”
Slowly he positions his tip around your entrance and carefully pushes inside, “stay nice and wide for me, baby.” He coos as the palm of his hand stays on your ass cheek, watching as he slides deeper trying to be considerate with any pain you feel. You whimper when he fills up your walls, it does hurt you but you stay calm and try to be relaxed so he can just pound into you.
It’s not so bad that you need him to stop, but it’s enough to make your knees that were pressed on the cushions to shake a little. “Shh, you’re doing so good. Taking my cock like a good girl.” He slides deeper until his balls are now up against your clit. You immediately drag out a moan once all of the uncomfortable feeling has disappeared and replaced with the wanted pleasure.
You can’t help but grip around him so tight that he hisses through his teeth, “Hey, now (Y/N). You keep squeezing me with that tight pussy of yours like that and I’m gonna cum too early. And you won’t get to have yours~”
You bite back any whiny protests about how you can’t help it, it just feels too good already but instead you obey his soft commands and try not to squish your walls on his shaft.
With slow movements from his hips creating a series of low gushing sounds he tips his head back inhaling when his lips part. Your own noises of pleasure were drowning his ears, you just sound so sweet. “Damn, (Y/N). You feel so… fffucking good.” He sighs as his hands begin to roll down your back to the curve to your ass.
Your whines and breathy screams just makes him want to pound into you with no mercy. But he’ll stay patient before he gets to do that. He grinds against your walls, making sure you feel every inch of his length and seeing how he’s making you coax his shaft with how soaking wet you are. “Ahh! Gun!” You squeak a little while you’re slowly being opened up for him to fill you up further.
“What’s wrong? You want me to fuck this pussy until you can’t take it already?” You can hear the cockiness in how much he’s enjoying making you so needy. “Are you sure you can handle it?” His palm brushes over your cheek again, then dives right in between your legs to rub on the hood of your clit. He moans at the feeling of how much you want him.
“Yes! I can handle it now I can take it!”
You know that you’re only digging your own grave but you had a slight idea what you’re signing up for when you agreed to do this with Gun in the first place.
Gun lets out a little throaty chuckle, “if you say so. Very well. But I’m not stopping or slowing down.”
You let the warning sink in your head for a second before he picks up the pace with every thrust. The way you scream for him was just so delicious he couldn’t help but pound into your tight hole even faster. “So tight. And all mine.” Swiftly landing his palm on your bouncing skin following loud smacks from his hips hitting your ass, he groans when you open up more and more like your pussy is letting him in so easily.
“You’re being such a good girl, (Y/N). I’ll give you a sweet reward after.”
The praising causes your walls to grip on his shaft once more before immediately letting go trying not to make him cum just yet. But getting validated by this man makes you want to stay obedient to every command he gives.
Loud cries fall from your lips as salty tears stream down your red puffy face, so much sensitivity in your gummy walls as his thick hot cock strokes with no mercy leaves you already feeling drained. Gun tips his head back panting and groaning at how good this feels, how you’re being such a good girl for him, like he can almost smell your fear that leads you to not want any punishments.
Although… Punishing you for absolutely no reason whatsoever would be quite a treat too. But he’ll probably wait for that for another day. Since you will see him again, and he’ll make sure that you know this too. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, he presses his large inked hand down against your back.
Pressing his palm into the spot between your shoulder blades to keep you still while he drives in faster, his curved tip hits just the right area you needed. Making your eyes roll back and begin to drool. For a brief moment you stop your screaming while your brain was turning blank. The only sounds being the rough slapping from his hips making contact with your ass cheeks that would be very sore once he was done.
When your able to find your voice again your toes curl and squeeze with a sudden heat wave experience down your body you couldn’t quite help but sob for.
“Ohh fuck! You wanna cum, I can feel it. But not yet, sweetheart. I won’t push you too hard since this is your first time but soon, you’ll be able to edge for hours…”
That sounded more like a threat than a promise.
While he continues to hit against that sweet spot you find it more difficult and uncomfortable with how you try to deny your orgasm. It feels like your body just needs to burst. And Gun makes it harder purposely of course when he then pulls you back gripping on your waist to watch your ass have ripples from the constant bouncing and slapping.
Your mind gets a little foggy, and your vision briefly spins in circles but you try to hold back as much as you can, noticed by Gun he moans at how obedient you’re being underneath him. The springs from the mattress creak mixed with your longing screams from your throat you made from reflex.
When his balls swing and smack against your clit roughly it adds to the friction and getting it harder to keep in check with your climax. When finally after an only minute you can’t take it anymore.
“Please!! Gun, I don’t think I can do this any longer ple-ease!!”
At the sounds of your begging Gun needs to hold back his own urge to release just so you can have yours like a gentleman.
“Ohh ffuck, do it. Cum on this cock! Then I’ll cum on your face!” With his permission your body tenses up to squeeze out the thick cum across his shaft. From how tight your walls clench from that orgasm he hisses and pulls out as quick as possible so he’d flip you over and pull on your hair making sure his juices spray and land on your face. He moans out breathlessly as he watches himself paint on you, rubbing his tip across your chin and forehead letting it dribble on your skin.
Gun chuckles a little letting the sight sink in. He nods in approval, so much pride and arrogance that fuels the fact that he claimed you well, but he wasn’t done. Nope. He was ready to see just how far you could go before he could make you pass out from exhaustion.
“Go ahead and spread your legs, I’ll give you the sweet reward I promised you.”
A heated sensation is felt on your face and ears but you nod and lay on your back feeling the damp blankets from the amount of sweat you have. Gun groans at the sight with his cum still coated on your face while your own cum is leaking out of your warmth.
He dives right in with no mercy or hesitation upfront. You can almost scream just from how amazing his tongue and lips feel against your pulsating clit as he spreads your folds open with his fingers.
He moans from your taste making him go wild, burying his nose nuzzling it while inhaling you. Sucking the hood of your clit giving it little nibbles your brain pauses for a moment, his fingers slipping into your opened core just adds to the pleasure with slow motions listening to your juices up against his face. You can see his black eyes get a little hazy.
You knew you’d have to ask for permission to let loose in his mouth but then it just felt so good that you greedily didn’t want him to stop. Gun focuses on between your folds for a little bit before replacing his fingers for his tongue circling around your entrance while his thumb pressed against your clit with very motions. Your eyes can’t help but get to the back of your skull while in the middle of seeing stars.
He catches your pleased reactions and has it purposely difficult not to release just yet. Just when you’re on the brink of asking for it he pulls away with a sudden warning expression. “Ah… I plan on edging you further, even if your body can’t take it anymore.” He’s just so addicted to breaking you already.
Your nails scratch and dig into the wet blankets below you, ten minutes of holding it all back goes by and you somehow feel like you’re weak knowing that you might not be able to go through with this little game of his.
Another ten minutes and suddenly you can’t get enough, even if you’re trembling hard your body threatens to cum with no control over it. But you are still successful with this aching feeling. “Hah, p-please Gun! I wa—“ Gun’s hand crashes down on your mouth silencing you shaking his head. “I don’t need you to beg, that’s not what I want right now. I want to see you falling apart. I guess I just wasn’t so clear about that.” His heavy body hovers above you, quivering and in pain.
The digits of his slim fingers easily slick past your pulsating hole, rubbing on the spot he knows he’d leave you destroyed with. “How’s that? Huh?” His tone mocking and mean, you can’t take it. “You’re fucking soaking. And you’re squeezing on my fingers so tight so a little whore. You’re definitely struggling yet you’re doing such a good job. I don’t know if I should reward you, or just want to make you suffer more…”
Gun definitely has a new obsession now. Maybe he’ll be thinking of you when he gets really excited when he’s fighting.
37 notes · View notes
fushizhuo · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: You're the youngest member of SKZ and the younger brother of Bang Chan. However, you're sick. And your parents sent you to the US to get treatment. But, they couldn't treat your disease. No matter how hard they tried. So as a final goodbye, you sang a song for your hyungs and your fans.
Genre — Angst.
Warnings — Death
Pairing — M! Reader x SKZ (platonic)
AN note — Transferring my wattpad works over to Tumblr, I made this when I was 12 don't judge 🤞🏻
WC — 4.8k
Tumblr media
The arena hums with quiet anticipation, the energy heavy with sadness. Stray Kids are on stage, but the usual vibrant atmosphere is missing. Eight members stand in a row, their faces somber. The space next to them is empty—the place where you always stood.
Chan steps forward, his hands gripping the microphone tightly, his voice trembling as he addresses the crowd. “STAYs, tonight is… different,” he starts, his eyes flicking back to the members, all barely holding back their emotions. “Our member, y/n, couldn’t be with us tonight. But he left us something. A message for all of you.”
The crowd stirs, sensing the gravity of the moment. Then, the massive screen behind the group flickers on, and there you are, sitting in a chair, pale but smiling gently at the camera. You look weaker than ever, but you’re trying to be strong, for them, for the fans.
“Hello, STAYs,” you begin, your voice soft, yet steady. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there tonight with my brothers. The truth is… I’m sick. Really sick.”
The arena falls into a deafening silence. Even though rumors had been swirling for weeks, hearing you confirm it feels like a punch to the gut for everyone present.
“I’ve been fighting this for a while,” you continue, a sad smile tugging at your lips, “but it’s gotten worse. And… I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”
The weight of your words sinks deep into the hearts of the fans, many of whom have already started to cry. The members on stage are barely holding it together. Felix wipes at his eyes, his face twisted in sorrow, tears falling down uncontrollably with I.N comforting him, while Hyunjin clenches his fists, his shoulders trembling.
You pause for a moment, as if gathering the strength to go on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t sing live with you tonight. But I wanted to say goodbye properly, the only way I know how—through a song. This is my final song, and I want to dedicate it to all of you.”
The camera zooms in slightly as you take a deep breath. “STAYs, thank you. You made me braver than I’ve ever been. Every moment on stage, every song, every smile—I did it because of you.”
You look down for a second, composing yourself, before looking back up at the camera, your eyes brimming with tears. “To my hyungs, thank you for taking care of me. You’re my family, and you’ll always be my home.”
With that, you reach for your guitar and start strumming the familiar opening chords of Castle on the Hill. The stadium quiets, listening intently, as your voice fills the arena.
"When I was six years old, I broke my leg,
I was running from my brother and his friends."
The soft, nostalgic melody washes over the crowd, each note filled with bittersweet memories. The camera flashes between you, playing your final song, and old clips of Stray Kids—the early days when you were all just starting out, moments in the dorms, behind-the-scenes laughter.
"And I miss the way
You make me feel,
And it’s real."
Your voice trembles slightly, but you keep going, pouring everything you have left into this performance. The members on stage are frozen in place, their eyes locked on the screen as you sing about the good times, about the innocence of youth, and about home.
"When we watched the sunset
Over the castle on the hill…"
The song continues, each lyric hitting harder than the last, and the fans can barely contain their sobs. You sing not just for them, but for your hyungs too, for the family you’re leaving behind.
"One friend left to sell clothes,
One works down by the coast,
One had two kids but lives alone,
One’s brother overdosed,
One’s already on his second wife,
One’s just barely getting by."
As you sing these lines, the camera flashes again to moments from the members’ lives—Chan struggling as a leader, Lee Know dancing through exhaustion, Han and Changbin composing until the early morning, Seungmin’s late-night vocal practices, Hyunjin’s quiet moments of self-reflection, Felix’s smile breaking even through the toughest days.
"But these people raised me,
And I can't wait to go home."
Your voice catches on the word home, and it’s clear that you’re thinking of the members—your brothers who stood by you through it all. The camera shows clips of all eight of you together, laughing, crying, working, living.
"And I'm on my way,
I still remember these old country lanes,
When we did not know the answers."
The music swells, and the arena is filled with your voice, with memories, with everything you’ve been through together. The fans, the members, everyone is united in the sadness of your goodbye.
"And I miss the way
You make me feel,
And it’s real,
When we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,
Over the castle on the hill,
Over the castle on the hill."
As the final chorus fades, the screen cuts back to you. Your guitar falls silent, and you look into the camera one last time, tears filling your eyes but a soft smile still on your lips.
“Thank you, STAYs. You made me feel alive. You made me brave. I love you all so much.”
Your final words are barely above a whisper. “I’ll be home soon.”
The screen goes dark. For a few moments, the arena is completely still. No one moves. No one speaks. It’s as though the world itself is holding its breath, not wanting to acknowledge what just happened.
Then, the sobs start—quiet at first, then louder, until the entire stadium is filled with the sound of heartbreak. The members on stage are in tears, clutching onto each other for support. Chan tries to speak, but no words come out. He steps forward, wiping his face, and finally manages to say, “Thank you, y/n. We love you.”
The concert ends not with an encore, not with cheers, but with the weight of your goodbye hanging in the air. STAYs leave the arena with heavy hearts, each one carrying a piece of you with them, your voice still echoing in their minds, the final notes of Castle on the Hill playing over and over.
You never made it back. But in that final moment, you felt at home.
Tumblr media
52 notes · View notes
samaraxmorgan · 1 day
Note
YAPPER TIS I!
HEAR ME OUT YOU KNOW METALIST SINGER ROOMIE SUKUNA (woah thats a mouthful) WHAT IF WHAT IF, WE GET HOME EARLY AND WE HEAR HIM CLEAN SINGING THE SONG 'Sarcasm' by get scared OR WE HEAR HIM SINGING 'Time of dying' by Three Days Grace LIKE BRO DO YOU SEE THE VISION, ALSO I LOVE THOSE SONGS :3
HAVE AN AMAZING AND FANTASTIC DAY/NIGHT (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
HEY BABE!!!
Oh my GOD YES HIM SINGING CLEANNNNN!!!! I don’t know if u saw the fic I reblogged the other day but it was SOLELY focused on Sukuna singing Sleep Token and SMMSMSMSMS I LOVEEEE
In my au I picture him almost NEVER singing clean, it’s way too raw and vulnerable for him, and plus he loves the shock value of his screams <3 but that doesn’t mean that he n e v e r sings clean he just only does it when he’s SUUURE he’s alone
Ugh and Sarcasm by Get Scared STOP ITT I love that song so much and imagining it in his voice!!! He would be SO GOOD WITH IT
I feel like us coming home to him singing would be like the first time we really see him embarrassed, like we make a noise downstairs and he ABRUPTLY stops and when we see him come down later he won’t look us in the eyes 🥺 Like he’s not gonna MENTION it but he’s SOOOO EMBARRASSED like he’d rather us have walked in on him naked than hear him sing skskksksmsks
I feel like music for him is like a MAJOR way of him really expressing himself, and so with the heavy metal screams he can keep up his appearance of being all big and scary so that’s the only way he sings around anyone; but playing guitar and singing is just so personal for him and it shows a more vulnerable side that he likes to keep hidden <3
But maybe one day he’ll decide to open up and sing something for us <3 Besides, it’s not like he learned our favorite song on guitar for nothing, right?
I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAYYYY!!!!
29 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 4 hours
Note
shy!sweetheart!reader being secretly a metalhead (enjoying bands like falling in reverse and bad omens). rafe finding out like 🤨
this was ridiculously cute to write😌 and i felt like it feet pogue!bartender!reader's universe 100% so i did it.....if it wasn't want you wanted IM SORRY but it's canon in my head and my fingers worked really fast to write this down lmao. thank you for the request!!🩵🫂
you're in the walls that i made - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It had been a long day, and all you wanted to do was get home, toss on your favorite oversized hoodie, and dive into a YouTube rabbit hole of random videos on your phone.
Rafe, of course, was your ride—like usual. He’d somehow appointed himself as your unofficial chauffeur after shifts, and you weren’t exactly complaining. You were saving up for a car, and you were almost there, only a few more weeks and you’d have your baby.
But it was nice to have a reliable ride, even if it came with his very questionable music taste.
"Alright, let's go," Rafe said, pulling up in his shiny black truck as you slid into the passenger seat.
The smell of leather and cologne hit you immediately, as did the unmistakable thumping bass of whatever rap song he had blasting. The lyrics were, as usual, about women, money, and something about getting high on a yacht. You made a face without even realizing it—like you did every time.
"What's that look for?" Rafe smirked, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the parking lot.
You shrugged, hoping he’d let it slide. "Nothing. Just... nothing."
Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to let anything slide. "Nah, you do that every time I play my music.”
You bit your lip, wondering if he thought you were a snob now. “What? No I don’t.”
He shot you a side-eye, his smirk widening as he pressed a little harder on the gas. "You got somethin' better on your playlist?"
It wasn’t like you were embarrassed. You just didn’t think Rafe, with his expensive taste and rich boy vibes, would get it. But before you could answer, the radio cut in between songs with an ad, and you almost jumped in your seat.
“On September 6th, for one night only, Bad Omens will be performing live at the Greyhall venue on the mainland! Get your tickets now before they sell out!”
Your heart raced. Bad Omens. They were one of your favorite bands, and they were going to be right there—just a ferry ride away. You stared at the radio, gripping the sides of the seat like you were about to take off.
"Wait, what?" You said under your breath, but loud enough that Rafe noticed.
He furrowed his brow, glancing between you and the road. "You okay? What's up?"
You bit your lip, feeling the excitement rising inside you and knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t afford concert tickets, let alone the ferry and everything else that came with it. But still, you couldn’t help the tiny squeak of frustration that escaped.
"It’s nothing. Just…one of my favorite bands is playing."
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. "Favorite bands?" His voice lilted with surprise. "You never told me you had a favorite band. Wait—what band?"
You fidgeted in your seat, the seatbelt suddenly feeling too tight. "Bad Omens."
He blinked. "Who?"
Of course. You sighed. "They're a metalcore band. Like heavy, but not just noise. They actually sing. And scream. It’s complicated."
Rafe's expression was priceless—like you just told him you were secretly a wizard or something.
"Metalcore?" He repeated, testing the word,"Wait, hold up. You’re telling me you like that screamo stuff?"
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
You? The girl who got him by the balls since he laid his eyes on you? The quiet, sweet, always-put-together girl he drove home after work, into metalcore? It was like you just told him you had a secret double life.
You shrugged, feeling yourself blush a little. "It’s not just screamo. There's a lot more to it. It's deep."
“Screamo stuff,” he repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. His eyes moved from the road back to you, still processing. You were full of surprises, and every time he learned something new about you, it knocked him off his feet. He wasn’t used to it. Most girls he’d been with were pretty predictable—into the same stuff, liked the same fancy dinners, designer bags, the whole kook lifestyle. And then there was you.
You still sounded a little defensive, your fingers messing with the hem of your shirt. “I swear, there’s actual singing and meaning behind the lyrics.”
Rafe leaned back in his seat, still smirking, but he wasn’t laughing at you. He was actually impressed. You really didn’t care what anyone thought, did you? He couldn’t even pretend to understand the music, but it wasn’t just that—it was everything about you that threw him off in the best way.
"So that’s why you’re always making faces at my music? ‘Cause it’s not—what, hardcore enough for you?"
You couldn’t help but giggle. "I mean yeah, kinda." You glanced over at him, like you were waiting for him to crack a joke or say something stupid, but all he could do was stare at you like you’d just become ten times more interesting. “What, I don’t look like someone who’d enjoy heavy music?”
He laughed, shaking his head.  “I would've never guessed. You’re always so quiet. Sweet. I thought you’d be into, I don’t know, something soft and cute. You look like you’d be into Taylor Swift, not dudes screaming about whatever it is they scream about.”
You let out a small laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He loved that laugh. “Well, I do like Taylor Swift. But, you know, metal is just...it hits different.”
Rafe’s face went from shock to something else, like he was putting pieces together in his head. "Wait, that explains so much. Every time I put on something with a chill beat, you look like you’re dying inside."
"I just have different taste," you admitted.
"Damn, never thought I’d see the day," he muttered, more to himself. “So, this band of yours—Bad Omens—where they playing?"
"Greyhall in September,” you said quietly. "But it’s fine. I can’t afford to go."
He frowned. "The hell you can’t. Just get the tickets."
You blinked at him. "I can’t, Rafe. They’re probably expensive, and I’ve got rent and bills. Y’know, real life stuff?"
He furrowed his brow, like the concept of not being able to afford something was completely foreign to him. “It’s just tickets. How much could they be?”
"Probably more than I make in a week. Plus the ferry, the drinks, food—it's not that simple."
He glanced at you, like he was doing the math in his head. The guy lived in a world where nothing was “that simple” because everything was already done for him. He didn’t have to think about rent or ferry costs or budgeting for groceries. That wasn’t Rafe’s reality, and for a second, you could see it in his eyes—he forgot that your world wasn’t his.
"Alright," he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal, "I’ll get them."
"What?"
"I’ll get the tickets," he repeated, more casual this time, like it was the easiest solution in the world. "You wanna see them, right? So I’ll buy the tickets."
Your mouth fell open. "Rafe, no. You can’t just—"
He looked at you like you’d just said something offensive. "I can.”
"No, you’re not buying me concert tickets. That’s ridiculous."
He rolled his eyes, acting like it was no big deal. “I’ve spent more on dumber shit. Consider it an early birthday gift. Or whatever."
“Do you even know when my birthday is?”
He didn’t even miss a beat, "October 8th” he said, his voice so smooth and confident that it caught you off guard.
Your jaw dropped a little, and you stared at him. "Wait—how do you know that?"
He shrugged casually, but he was proud of himself. "What, you think I don’t pay attention to you?”
When it came to you, he was locked in. Every detail, every little thing you mentioned, he was soaking it up. He knew. Out of all the random things, that’s what he remembered. You never told him outright; maybe it came up once in a passing conversation, weeks ago, buried under a million other details about work or life or whatever. And yet, here he was, dropping the exact date like it was nothing. You tried to play it cool, but inside, your brain was short-circuiting. Rafe Cameron knows my birthday. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, that smirk still glued to his face. He was being way too natural about the whole thing.
“Okay,” You snapped out of it, “You’re not buying me tickets, Rafe,” you warned him, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “Seriously, I can’t let you do that.”
He barely glanced at you, too busy making a smooth turn, “You act like I just offered to buy you a house. It’s a couple of tickets, not that big of a deal.”
“To you!” You huffed, leaning back in the seat. “It’s a big deal to me. I’m not just gonna let you drop money like that. For what? For a concert that you’re not even going to?”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, which only fueled your frustration. He thought this was funny.
“It’s just tickets,” he repeated, like that was going to wear you down. “Look, if it bothers you that much, you can pay me back. And I can go with you”
You felt your heart do this weird little somersault, like it didn’t know whether to panic or be excited.
What the hell was he talking about.
Rafe Cameron, Mr. Country Club, wanted to go to a metalcore concert with you?
Your head was spinning. He doesn't even know the band, you thought, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with you. But judging by the way he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he wasn’t joking.
“You’re gonna come with me to a Bad Omens concert?” Your voice came out more skeptical than you intended, but could he blame you. The thought of Rafe at a concert full of screaming fans and heavy breakdowns was honestly hilarious.
He shrugged, eyes still on the road, totally unfazed. “Yeah, why not? Could be fun.”
Fun? FUN? You were genuinely struggling to picture him, in his usual attire, khaki shorts and a Ralph Lauren polo, at a venue packed with sweaty metalheads. You almost wanted to laugh, but then again, he was doing this for you. He was willing to put up with a night of music he definitely didn’t like, just so you could see one of your favorite bands. That meant something.
You scoffed. “How would I pay you back anyway? With what? My tips from bartending at the country club? Gonna take me six months to pay off Bad Omens tickets.”
He glanced over, eyebrow raised, like he was sizing you up. “You’re seriously gonna pass up the chance to see one of your favorite bands because you’re too proud to let me help?”
You bit your lip, torn between how much you wanted to see them live and how uncomfortable it felt to accept help from someone like Rafe. He was used to throwing money around—his daddy’s money, no less—and you... well, you weren’t like that. You’d grown up on the other side of the island, working your ass off to afford anything. 
The idea of someone just buying something for you? It made you feel weird. Like a sell-out.
“It’s not about a couple bucks. It’s about you doing this because you feel like you have to or something.”
His jaw tightened just slightly, and he shook his head like you were missing the point completely. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything. I want to do this. There’s a difference.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, not letting him off the hook just yet. “Why? Why do you want to do this so bad?”
There it was. That look again. He hesitated, like he was deciding whether to be fully honest or not, then leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, trying to play it cool.
“Because,” he started, his voice casual but his eyes were giving him away. “This is what friends do. They look out for each other. I’m not letting you miss something you clearly want.”
Saying the word made his chest hurt just a little. Friends. Right. But he didn’t let it show. He wasn’t exactly the relationship type, and everyone knew it. You probably knew it, but when it came to you things were different. And maybe the idea of spending time with you at that concert—just the two of you, no work, no distractions—sounded like a dream. How could he say that without looking like an idiot? Or worse, like a an asshole trying to buy his way into your life.
“Rafe, be serious,” you sighed. “I don’t like feeling like I owe someone.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” he said quickly, a little sharper this time. He seemed almost offended. “Why do you keep acting like this is some big favor? I’m not holding it over your head or anythin’. I just want you to go to the concert and have a good time. Is that so hard to accept?”
You did want to go. Badly. But accepting help like this wasn’t your style, especially not from Rafe, who lived in a completely different world. And yet you could feel how much he genuinely wanted you to say yes.
 “I’m being realistic.”
Rafe snorted. “Realistic? You’re being stubborn as hell.”
“I’m not—”
“Yeah, you are,” he cut you off, pulling into a stop at the light and turning his whole body toward you. His eyes were locked on yours now, serious but still with that hint of playful annoyance. “Look, I get it. Fine. You want to go to the concert. I’m offering to make it happen. End of story.”
He was used to getting what he wanted, and, right now, what he wanted was for you to take these tickets.
“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.
He hesitated for half a second. Then that smirk of his came back, though it felt different. “Because I like seeing you excited about something. You’ve been dragging your feet every time I see you, and now, you hear some band’s coming to town, and you light up like it’s Christmas. You think I’m gonna let you miss that over a couple bucks?”
You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He was always so sincere. And it threw you off completely. Rafe was a lot of things to a lot of people—cocky, reckless, arrogant—but he wasn’t usually thoughtful. Not to them. Not like this. You seemed to be the only one who saw the good in him.
But you still weren’t giving in. “Rafe... it’s just weird, okay? I don’t want it to be like you’re doing me a favor.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Fine. Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like— I’m investing in something I wanna see. You freaking out at this concert, screaming your head off, losing your voice for two days—that’s entertainment.”
 “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re difficult,” he shot back, eyes narrowing playfully. “But I’m not backing down, so you might as well just say thank you and take the tickets.”
“Or what?” you challenged, but your voice was softening.
“Or I’ll buy the tickets, show up at your door, and force you to go.”
You blinked. “You wouldn’t.”
He grinned. “Try me. C’mon,” he pushed, sensing you were caving. “You work your ass off at that club, always taking care of everyone else. For once, just let someone take care of you.”
Your breath hitched at that. He wasn’t just being cocky or trying to win an argument anymore. He meant it. You looked out the window, chewing on your lip. This was new, this was all so new to you it felt a little pathetic with how hard your heart was racing. There was a moment of silence, like you were both just waiting for the other to blink first.
Finally, you sighed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine! Fine. Buy the stupid tickets. But don’t think I’m not paying you back. I’ll find a way.”
He just laughed, clearly satisfied with his victory. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you, Rafe. You’re the best friend ever.’”
You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help smiling a little. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cameron.”
As the light turned green and he started driving again, you let out a long breath, not knowing why you were giving up so easily. There was this strange warmth in your chest, knowing he cared enough to go toe-to-toe with you over something as small as a concert.
“Hey, for the record,” Rafe said after a moment, glancing over at you. “I’d do it again. Just so you know.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What? Fight me over tickets?”
He grinned, looking back at the road. “Nah. Fight you over anything, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but you were beaming like an idiot now. You felt lighter. “Just don’t think this means I’m letting you pick the music on the way there.”
“Deal,” he said, laughing as he leaned back in his seat, clearly proud of himself. “But don’t get too used to it. Next time, it’s back to rap and yachts.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
As he drove, you couldn’t help but peek over at him, catching the way his jawline tensed and relaxed, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel like he was still buzzing from the conversation.
And yeah, maybe you’d heard the rumors surrounding him, believed them a little before.
Now, you weren’t so sure.
All the while Rafe felt like he’d just won the lottery. You had no idea how hard he was falling for you, piece by piece. Every small detail about you made him fall harder, and it scared the hell out of him how much he cared. But he couldn’t stop now.
Truth was, he didn’t want to.
40 notes · View notes
yeo-hee · 16 hours
Text
— i don’t even know your name • lee heeseung
“then the crowd came, and pulled you away.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— meeting each other at a party after a small mistake causing you to splash your drink over your white dress, you find yourself attracted to the stranger — lost in conversation with him. only, you’re pulled away by your best friend before you get to know each others names.
warnings: slightly strong language, mentions of alcohol & nicotine, reader is mad at first.
wc: 3.8k.
not proofread.
“COME on, Y/N, it’ll be fun! And I’ll be right there with you the whole time.” Was what your best friend said two hours prior to dragging you into the frat house. Only, now you were standing alone, lost in the mix of unfamiliar faces as you recalled the moment your friend got swept away by the likes of a guy she deemed cute enough to flirt with.
The smell of alcohol lingered in the air, sweaty bodies mixed together in the center of the room, jumping around and singing screaming along to the lyrics of whatever popular, upbeat song blared through the large speakers set up against a wall.
You felt suffocated, first and foremost, as you tugged the skirt to your dress down — one you had long tucked away into the depths of your rather messy closet only to be rediscovered in a hurry of choosing something to wear for the night.
Parties were not everything they seemed to be, nothing like the typical college party you’d see on screen. Unfortunately, your dreams of living a romanticized university life were long crushed as you were faced with the unbearing reality of being drowned in studies and such.
You clutched the can of cheap beer to your chest, a hand covering the top of it as you pushed through a sea of people, brows subconsciously curved inward until you pushed the doors to a balcony open — a rush of the chilly, autumn night air spreading goosebumps over your exposed skin before you quickly adapted to the change of temperature.
The balcony was lonesome, if not for the couple that was making out before shooting you a dirty look and leaving you by yourself. Not that you were complaining, of course.
A light breeze from the few trees that lined the streets brushed through your hair, blowing it behind your shoulders as you leaned up against the railing. You held your can of beer in your hand loosely, occasionally bringing it to your lips to take small sips.
Behind you, interrupting the muffled music through the thick glass of the balcony door, the song playing inside became clearer to your ears as you could hear a rush of footsteps stumble.
At the abrupt commotion, you turned around only to collide with a hard chest as the remainder of your beer jumped out of the can, staining the white color of your dress. A gasp fell from your lips, surprise evident in your widened eyes and your jaw hung slightly ajar upon the cold feeling of the liquid sticking the fabric of your dress to your skin.
“What the hell?” You let out naturally, as a string of curses filled your ears — whoever you had bumped into backing up as your eyes landed on his bowing figure.
As he lifted his head, you met his gaze. His cheeks were flushed in embarrassment, doe eyes open wide as he stared at you apologetically.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? I didn’t mean to.” He rushed out; frantic, flustered hands waving nervously around in the air in front of you.
Masked with frustration especially because you didn’t even want to come to the party tonight in the first place, you paid no mind to him as you peered down at the wet fabric that clung to your body around your neckline. It was uncomfortable, and sticky. Now reeking of the intoxicating smell of alcohol.
“Listen, I’m really sorry. My friends and I were messing around, and they thought it’d be funny to push me out here and I kinda stumbled and then.. boom. I bumped into you. It was a mistake, really.” The boy pleaded his case, as your gaze shifted up.
“Imaginary friends?” You huffed, referring to the fact that you were the only two left outside, making it to be as if he was a liar. “Whatever, man.” You sighed out, shaking your head as you furrowed your brows, setting the now empty can of beer on the top of the thick wood railing.
Heeseung peered over his shoulder, muttering a string of curses to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I know this doesn’t help my case that my friends ditched me. But, you’ve gotta believe me. That’s really what happened.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as you stared at him with boredom evident in your eyes.
“I’m sorry about your drink. Can I get you another one?” He asked hesitantly, as you shot him a look. One filled with mild annoyance and disgust.
“Did you seriously pull this shit just to get me a drink?” You inquired, watching as he panicked, a groan slipping past his lips as he ran a hand over his face, shaking his head frantically.
“God, no, I’m not an asshole. I understand this whole thing looks really, really bad on my part. And I can also understand why you don’t believe me. But I swear on my life, I’m telling the truth and I would never do anything like that on purpose.” The boy expressed deeply, hands together in a pleading motion.
You watched him curiously, eyes narrowed before you nodded your head, simply going along with his story. Only due to the fact that he seemed to be genuinely apologetic. “Okay. Sure.” You let out, giving in as you maintained distance from him.
“I don’t want another drink, anyway.” You added on, answering his prior question. He blinked, and nodded his head in understanding, letting out a hum that you couldn’t even hear over the muffled noise coming from inside.
“Okay. That’s fine. Can you at least let me get you something to dry up?” Heeseung requested, as you paused momentarily, thinking for a moment.
“I’ll be quick. I promise.” He added on quietly, clearing his throat. With a sigh, you muttered a reply in agreement as you felt uncomfortable with the feeling of the wet fabric.
With that, the unfamiliar boy hurried back inside. To be quite honest, you didn’t exactly expect him to return. Not too trusting in a stranger at all, so you assumed that he would just disappear into the party without much care for the disturbance caused partially by him. It wasn’t very often at all that you’d meet someone with decency in the late hours of a college party of all places.
In fact, you never had before.
Instead of anticipating his return, you spun back around to face the view of the streets — staring down at the shine of the wet pavement as it had rained earlier on in the night.
You propped your chin up in the palm of your hand, listening to the muffled lyrics of another random song made in the early 2000’s, familiarity found within the lyrics as you huffed out a small laugh.
Almost ten minutes passed, before the balcony doors behind you creaked open. You turned to glance over your shoulder, pleasantly surprised that the same boy from before did in fact return.
“Sorry it took so long. Was hard to find a bathroom that wasn’t occupied.” He claimed with a chuckle. He stood a short distance from you, not growing too close in hopes to not make you uncomfortable — especially given you two had started on the wrong foot already.
Heeseung extended his hand out to you, one that held a hand towel he had stolen from the drawers of a random bathroom he had stumbled upon as he wandered lostly through the house.
With a bit of reluctance, you accepted the piece of cloth into your hands, propping yourself back up against the railing. “Thank you.” You muttered, expression having relaxed along with your tone of voice.
He nodded quietly in return, wandered to the other side of the balcony as he leaned up against it, a distance away from you to give you your space as he spoke up in response. “No problem. It’s the least I could do.”
You hummed quietly, a gentle noise only you could hear. You dabbed the towel along your skin, squeezing the fabric of your dress between it to hopefully dry out the liquid that soaked into it. As you let out a sigh, the boy peered over at you, guilt etched across his features and in his eyes.
“I’m sorry about your dress.” Heeseung apologized for the nth time that night, referring to the light beige stain that settled into the originally white fabric. Made from the beer that had splashed up and onto you upon the collision you made with him.
You looked over at him, settling the hand towel onto the railing next to your empty can. You had managed to dry it as much as possible, no longer feeling that icky sensation of wet clothing over your skin.
“I don’t know how much a dress like that would be, and I only brought fifty dollars with me tonight. Didn’t wanna accidentally lose my wallet and end up losing everything, you know? But if fifty dollars can help with the cost, I will gladly give it to you.” The boy offered, fishing into the pocket of the trousers he wore to pull out his wallet.
“Or, I mean, I also have Apple Pay. So we can do that, too.” He continued on, remembering the useful digital service. You breathed out a small laugh, shaking your head off to the side as you gazed down at your hands, clasped together on top of the railing.
“I don’t want your money. I’m fine.” You declined, waving it off as you gestured for him to put his wallet away. However, he didn’t at first, hesitant as he knew that declining was just the polite thing to do. Clearly, still insistent on replacing it.
“Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind—“
“Positive. Put your money away, please, this is awkward.” You said, shaking your head as you looked back at him. Heeseung smiled sheepishly, chuckling as he nodded reluctantly and shoved the leather wallet back into his pocket.
“I never even wear this thing anyway.” You reasoned calmly, brushing your fingers through your hair as the wind caused it to be slightly disheveled. The boy tilted his head, silently admiring you from a short distance.
“Why not? You look pretty in it.” He complimented, albeit a bit shy as his tone grew softer. You raised a brow, unable to deny the light flutter in your heart as your cheeks flushed pink—causing you to turn your head away.
“Because,” you began, clearing your throat to regain composure. “I bought it at the start of this semester for a party. Ended up going to one, and I hated it. So, I never really cared to wear it again.”
Heeseung nodded his head in understanding, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he pursed his lips. “So, you’re not the party type, then?”
“Not really.” You confessed.
“May I ask why you’re here then?”
“My friend convinced me to go with her since she didn’t wanna go alone. I thought maybe I just had a bad experience the first time around, but now I just remembered why I hated it in the first place.” You voiced out, a light grimace on your face as he smiled and nodded. “And why is that?”
“I don’t even know where to start.” You admitted, a smile crept up onto your lips as you rubbed your temples, finding the whole ordeal to be ridiculous.
“For one, it’s really loud. I can’t think, and it makes my head hurt. It also smells like shit—from the sweat and alcohol and sometimes, nicotine. And don’t even get me started on the couples.” You grumbled, nose scrunched up in annoyance at the end of your sentence.
“Oh, god, yeah. The couples are the absolute worst.” Heeseung agreed, rolling his eyes at the thought. “Most of them have no decency or respect for others. They’re too engrossed with each other to care.” He continued on, shaking his head.
“Exactly. They’re so annoying, right?” You let out a laugh, your eyes brightened slightly as you had subconsciously taken a step closer to the boy, tensed muscles from before relaxing a bit as you grew more and more comfortable in his presence.
Perhaps it was the alcohol you had consumed, settled into a pit of warmth in your stomach, or maybe the dim lighting the moon provided over his features, but he was cute—attractive. And, he seemed like a nice guy. Given, you’d only known him for a few minutes at best. But you couldn’t help but want to get to know him even more.
“You know, one time—I think it was back in high school,” Heeseung began, recalling old memories as he shifted his body to face you, now paying you his full attention as he thought back to a certain time in his life.
“My parents were out of town for the weekend, and my birthday was that same week. So, I stupidly decided to throw a party at my house with the help of my friends. It got out of control, so I stepped upstairs to go into my room to get away from it for a little while.” He explained, pausing as he took a second to take another breath.
“I opened my door and there was some random couple on my bed. Luckily, I got there before they got too far into anything. But it was awkward, because they were making out and didn’t notice me at first. I asked them to leave, and they got all mad and refused. In my own house, at my own party.” He told you, as you snickered and grimaced.
“God, that’d piss me off so bad. At your own party too is insane.” You expressed, voicing your own opinion as he laughed and nodded, brows raised.
“Oh, trust me, I was.” Heeseung smiled softly, arms folded over his chest comfortably. “Never threw a party of my own after that. Only small get-togethers with some trusted friends.”
“I’d imagine. I don’t think I would, either.” You hummed, as he chuckled and only nodded silently. His eyes drifted off to the side, landing on two outdoor chairs set up, a small round table in between.
“Would you like to sit down?” He asked, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the outdoor furniture set up on the balcony. You agreed, joining him as you sat down on the cushioned seats, giving your feet relief from standing in heels for however many hours you’d been there already.
Another hour flew by, and you seemed to really like this boy. You shared laughter together, outcasts to the lovely party happening only a few feet away. Yet, the company you two provided each other was much better than some lousy college party. In both of your opinions, at the very least.
Mind conversation, the balcony doors pushed open, catching your attention as you turned your head over to catch sight of whoever cared to join you. Surprisingly, you were greeted with the sight of your friend—who you had come here with.
As she met your gaze, her eyes relaxed and she let out a sigh of relief, seemingly frantic and excited as she trotted towards you, hands reaching out for you to take as you took them wordlessly, a bit confused.
“There you are! I’ve been calling you for like twenty minutes!” Your friend pointed out, as you flashed an apologetic smile.
“Sorry. I think it’s on silent mode in my purse.” You said, as she pulled you up from your seat. “Is something wrong?” You questioned, to which she shook her head with a bright smile.
“No. But you’ll never guess who I just ran into!” She exclaimed happily, squeezing your hands as she informed you of the old mutual friend of yours, one you hadn’t seen in a year or two now.
Beckoning you on with her to say hi, you had no other choice as you quickly swept your purse up from the ground, tugging the strap over your shoulder as she pulled you along with her.
You turned your head back over your shoulder to meet his gaze, as he waved you goodbye, a soft laugh falling from his lips as you shouted out a goodbye.
“Bye! It was nice talking to you!” You called out, before you focused on the path ahead of you as you held onto your friend's hand, not wanting to lose each other in the crowds inside.
“What happened to your dress? And who was that?” Your friend asked you curiously, to which you promised to explain later when in a quieter place.
___________________________________________
A week had passed, and you two never saw each other since. The night was a blur, yet the memory of you was clear to Lee Heeseung.
It was driving him insane; how he knew so much about you from the tipsy conversation you both shared on the balcony. Yet, he didn’t even know your name. You were quite literally the prettiest and funniest person he’d ever met, your company the best he’s ever had. And to think he possibly screwed that up by forgetting to ask something as basic as your name, or any contact information at all was driving him nuts.
He could almost laugh each time he thought back to you, how embarrassed he was when he had bumped into you. How nervous he was, because you were just so pretty—yet thanks to the foolish nature of his friends, he screwed up and accidentally made you upset.
He was thankful, yet surprised when you began to warm up to him. Sharing a casual exchange of words after he had retrieved that towel for you. Soon enough, mere words turned into a full blown conversation. Discussing the most random things, and telling each other dumb stories from childhood, or some that occurred more recently.
Heeseung wondered, did you remember him? Were you as stuck on him as he was with you? Did you think about him often, too? Regretting the wasted chances at becoming something more, becoming something outside the party.
Currently, he stood on one of the pathways on campus, AirPods in as he stared down at his phone — checking his schedule for the day, having already forgotten which class he’d have to be in next.
Only, his arm jolted to the side, nearly dropping his phone in the process. He spun around, turning to address whoever had bumped into him. Only, his eyes widened in surprise as he met your familiar gaze, relief and nerves rushed over him as a smile subconsciously spread across his features.
In a flash, he had taken out his AirPods, shoving them into his pockets. Dangerous, considering how often he lost them. In fact, he was on his seventh pair. Crazy, he knew, but he couldn’t help but to misplace them. They were just too small not to lose.
“It’s you again!” He exclaimed, blinking repeatedly as if to wake up from a dream. As if he was imagining your figure standing in front of him, just as embarrassed to bump into him as he was that night.
“Sorry about that. Wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized with a laugh, your eyes brightened as the rays of the afternoon sun shined down on you, casting a golden hue over your skin.
“We’ve gotta stop bumping into each other like this.” You added on, to which his smile only grew bigger—if even possible. He laughed, doe eyes curved into two small crescents as he nodded.
“Right.” He let out in agreement, relieved to be able to see you again. “So you do remember me?”
“Of course I do.” You hummed, arms folded over your chest as you looked back at him curiously. “How could I forget? We shared some pretty deep conversations that night, you know. Especially since we had only just met.” You chuckled.
“True, true.” Heeseung accepted, threading his fingers through his hair. “How’s your dress?”
“Oh! The dress, right. The stain came out after a wash and a soak in some oxiclean. I didn’t need a replacement at all.” You informed him, as he smiled and sighed in relief, nodding.
“Oh, thank god. I know you told me it was okay, but I still felt bad. I mean, I was the reason you stained it in the first place.” He expressed sheepishly, as you simply shrugged it off.
“Even if the stain didn’t come out, like I said before, I never wear the dress anyway. If anything, it’s just kinda been taking up my closet space. You know how crammed these dorms are.” You murmured honestly.
“Fair point.” He said, nodding his head as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. A moment of silence passed between the two of you, though not uncomfortable. His eyes skimmed over your features, a gentle smile spread across his lips.
“You know,” he began, tilting his head. “I don’t even know your name.” He pointed out, to which you came to a realization.
In all honesty, the fact that you never learned his name was driving you crazy over the past week as well. When you told your friend about everything, she felt guilty that she had pulled you away before you had the chance to ask—too lost in excitement and hurry.
“Y/N.” You introduced yourself, as his heart skipped a beat, his gaze softening as a hum of content sounded from the back of his throat.
“Y/N,” he repeated in a soft mumble, testing the name on his tongue as he smiled at the sound, finding it to be fitting. Pretty, much like yourself.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Y/N.” He responded, giving you a small nod. “I’m Heeseung.” He greeted you, holding his hand out for you to take.
Once you did, he shook it politely, as you let out a soft sounding laugh. “You know, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to see you again. It’s pretty hard finding people on campus—especially if you take different courses.” You expressed with a small tilt to your head.
“I understand. I felt the same way, too. So I’m glad to have bumped into you again today.” Heeseung said, taking a deep breath before continuing on.
“So, whilst you are here in front of me and before you get swept away again, I was wondering.. would you maybe like to grab some coffee? Maybe lunch together one of these days?” He asked, a bit nervous, but still keeping his composure as he rocked back and forth on his feet.
You smiled, nodding your head in agreement. “You know, I’d really like that.” You admitted, a pink hue to your cheeks.
__________________________________________
i had this idea in the drafts for a while now, so whilst i work on a couple of requests, i thought i’d publish this in the meantime lol
thank you all so much for reading! i appreciate it so much. once again, if you have any requests, feel free to leave them in my asks because i am currently taking them ^^
okay okay, bye! love you all. take care 🤍
47 notes · View notes
Note
Idk how I came up with this and Idek if you’re a glee fan
But if glee was still running and they did an outsiders episode, which characters would sing which songs (or which actors would you wanna hear sing what)
i’m a gleek before i’m a human,,don’t even get me STARTED!!!!!!!
soda is so sam adjacent to meeeeee (i will not accept criticism on that!) so give me sam circa season 3 singing hoods turned heroes asap. the only other one coming to mind right now is santana hitting hopeless war out of the park 🫡
23 notes · View notes
friesbeforeliess · 16 hours
Text
Satoru is looking over Geto’s body. Tears in his eyes. Probably feeling conflicted. He’s apologizing for all the trouble his body has went through even after he was gone. Talking about how he wishes they had more time together, how he wishes he had told Geto how he felt sooner. How he should have noticed when he wasn’t doing well. How he should’ve noticed the signs, because there were so many looking back now. Apologizing because he’ll never truly know how Geto felt about him.
Suddenly Suguru’s hand starts twitching and it shoots up to grab Gojo by his shirt. Startled Gojo stares with wide eyes. But slowly the hand relaxes and lightly pats Gojo’s chest. He’s confused at first.
“What’re you…” the hand keeps patting, a bit harder now. Trying to tell him something.
“I don’t…I’m sorry I don’t understand.” He says, holding back a sob.
Geto’s hand pats Saturo’s chest once again before resting on his own chest. Still and quiet.
Satoru stares in confusion. If only he could talk to him.
“No! Come back!! Please! Just- RAHH!” The heartbroken sorcerer starts pounding his friend’s chest. “Come back!!! What do you want to tell me!”
Satoru lays his head on his friend’s chest, quietly sobbing, “Please…I-…I love you” he whispers.
Satoru buries his face into his rigid chest like a young boy does to his mother’s skirt.
Only the whirring of the over-head lamp can be heard in the quiet room, that and the soft cries of a broken heart.
Suddenly, he feels Geto’s arms twitching beneath him. The sorcerer gets off him and watches as his hand struggles to make a sign. It clenches and relaxes and is trying to figure it out. Until finally, there it is.
A hand flexed to show a pinky, an index finger and thumb straight out and the middle and ring finger curled.
Gojo stares for a second. He knows what it means but is still unsure if that’s what he meant to sign. He looks at his friend’s eyes and is greeted with a tear rolling down Geto’s fair skin.
“Suguru…” the sorcerer breathes out, he goes to wipe away the tear but stops himself.
Keeping that same sign, Geto’s hand places it over Gojo’s chest. And lightly taps it again and again.
It clicks. He finally understands. Witnessing this, he gasps and places his own two hands over his hand. Satoru weaves their fingers together, softly crying as he does so.
“I guess those sign language classes finally paid off- hah” Gojo chuckles, lightly kissing the top of Geto’s hand.
“Well…” he almost sings, “I can’t wait to hear you rub it in my face,” Gojo laughs.
He leans over down to his friend’s ear, “So please…wait for me, Suguru.”
Satoru gently kisses his cheek and holds onto his hand just a little while longer.
What a beautiful sight.
23 notes · View notes
trouvaille12 · 2 days
Text
Thinking about Next to Normal and how sad I am to see this show close 💔 crossing my fingers that it (and the cast!) transfer to broadway
But anyway my final thoughts:
Shoutout to Caissie Levy’s I Miss the Mountains, I don’t think I’ve ever been on the verge of tears just hearing the first few notes of a song before but the way she sings this song and her whole portrayal of Diana was so emotional and raw and heartbreaking. I felt every second of her fear and confusion and she was just absolutely brilliant.
Jamie Parker’s Dan surprised me. Hearing his guttural sob after Diana leaves broke my heart and is what made me really sob at the end of the show. He was so talented and you could really feel his desperation to keep everything together and to help Diana
Jack Wolfe. I cannot get over how talented he is. They bring such a terrifying vibe to Gabe and it was insane to watch them command the stage and just give the performance of a lifetime. I’m so excited to see where he goes from here and will always remember how gracious and kind they were at the stage door.
Eleanor’s Natalie was surprisingly (to me!) the thing that has sat most with me after seeing the show. Her voice, her acting, the anger and sadness and hope she brings to Natalie was absolutely incredible. I just want to wrap her Natalie up in a hug and tell her she’s amazing and doing a good job, and honestly same thing for Eleanor lol. Wish I could tell her how amazing her portrayal of Natalie is, because wow.
Trevor was so good as the Doctors! I wish he had more singing parts because he’s got such a good voice and the rockstar parts were hysterical!
Jack O was an amazing Henry! I think he needed to grow on me but by the last show I saw I really appreciated Henry’s role in the show. Jack brought a chill and funny vibe to Henry that I think helped lighten the tension in a lot of scenes and his voice is so pretty.
22 notes · View notes
muldermuse · 22 hours
Note
girldad!butcher when one your daughters has a ‘boyfriend’ at primary school and he gets all huffy about it and ends up lecturing both your girls on how men are trash but they steamroll over him just like
“You lot need to understand, that men, as a whole, are horrible.”
“But you’re nice, daddy!”
“Well, I’m the exemption, I’m talkin’ bout-
“Uncle Hughie is nice too!”
“Well yes, but listen love I-“
“And Uncle Marvin!”
“Oh- don’t forget Uncle Frenchie too, he taught me this French song. Daddy, do you want to hear it?”
“Yeah! We can sing it to you!”
And by this point he’s been verbally defeated by his two little ones and is just accepting of the fact that he’ll be fighting off boys for the foreseeable future😭
im so in love with this
i love girldad!butcher so much- his girls just run rings around him. the man truly stands absolutely no chance
ALSO IMAGINE when your daughter is like 13 and she gets paired up with a boy in her class to do a science project. he’s coming round to do the project on like a Saturday afternoon and butcher is livid. he’s trying to call the school to get her in a team with some girlfriends instead of some kid named briar.
later in bed that night, he’s grumbling that the “kid sounds like a fuckin’ cunt”. you remind him that the ‘cunt’ he’s referring to is a 13 year old boy who he has never met. also, you know briar’s mom and he seems like a nice kid. you tell butcher this but he just grumbles unhappily until he starts snoring
butcher is cancelling all family plans so he can stay in and make sure no ‘funny business’ happens during the study session. when your daughter answers the door she says ‘ignore my dad, he’s being weird’ and briar looks terrified of butcher immediately- avoids his gaze and calls him mr butcher when he greets him
of COURSE, after a few hours, butcher realises that briar is actually a nice kid. butcher even offers to make him dinner and drop him home. refers to briar as ‘his little mate’ everytime he sees him at school events from now on. even when your daughter has her first boyfriend at like 17 (and butcher is not a fan), he’s saying she should call briar instead.
“i did one science project with him like forever ago dad! he has a boyfriend now!”
35 notes · View notes