#I loved her I hated her I think both are good options

[skywqlkergf]

⠀ dealer!sam monroe x cheerleader!reader

⠀　　⠀　　⠀ worth the fight

⠀　　⠀　　⠀ series masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ y/d/n = your dad's name

you wake up to the sound of your mother's shrieking, calling for your father and cursing. you flinch as you wake up, sleep clouding your judgement and understanding.

“what? what? why are we yelling?” you stared at your mother waiting to see what she was yelling about. that's when you remember.

you and sam giggled as you entered through your window, falling onto the bed as you did. the mattress squeaked slightly under the pressure of both of your weights.

“sam, shhh. we can't wake up my parents, I'm supposed to be grounded.” you reprimanded him, to which he just smiled at you. he lounged out on your bed and you knew this was his rightful space. your worry essily subsided, it was so easy for it to whenever he was around.

“eh, I'm not worried about it.” he pulled you against him, you slotted between his legs, just sitting against him comfortably.

your face dropped, your mother still yelling and sam sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he looked so sweet, you tried not to think about it too much.

“get him out of my house, get out of my house!" your mom is pointing a finger to sam, and that protective nature of yours starts rising again.

“no.” your face went stale, the sight worried sam a little. you were usually so bubbly when he was around.

“what?” your mom's hand falls by her side, just like the other night, she didn't know the person in front of her.

“i said no. this is my house, too. and he's my guest, so he stays.” you were trying so hard to remain calm, choking on your anger. you would teach the entire town that sam was good if you had to. you'd do anything, if it meant you'd keep him by your side.

“i don't want to cause any issues, i can leave?” sam offered. he was chewing on his lip again, bad habits die hard. the anxiety grew in his chest, as you stood up. ready to go head-to-head with your parents.

“shut up.” you and your mother spoke at the same time with polarizing tones. your voice was soft, it said stay. it said i will fix this. your mother's was cold. it said she would never accept this, it said leave.

sam widened his eyes, and went about fiddling with his hands, phone, anything so not to look st the two of you right now. you hated to have him in all of this, but he was finally yours. you weren't gonna just let him go again.

“i refuse to be some girl begging her parents to let her love some boy.” your tone was almost lethal, and anger that's been building for years. building for your entire life. you were done with being some doll to be manipulated to however someone saw fit.

“however, i will tell you this ; if you do not let me, your reputation will never recover. that is a threat. by the time I'm done, no amount of money will fix the damages.” your arms crossed over your chest. your face going completely neutral, an eyebrow quirked.

fear ran over your mother's face, quickly replaced by her own anger. it is the only thing she's ever cared for. your father and her make good face always.

“i will disown you.” she snarled, disgust washing over her face. sam watched this all unfold, and anxiety rests heavy on his shoulders. this was all his fault. but he'd be a damn liar, if he didn't admit that you looked very hot right now.

“do it.” words left you without thought, your mom looked from you to sam and back. he seemed nice enough, considering she didn't actually know anything about him. she's weighing her options, on whether or not the fight was worth her reputation. was worth her relationship with her daughter.

your dad finally walked into the doorway of your room, “is he that important to you?” he spoke lowly, the words cause your mother to whip around. he'd been listening, waiting to see how it played out. but you're winning.

“the most important person in my life." you answered honestly. anger fading for a moment, love blossoming in your ribcage. if you could see sam's face, you'd see he's shocked. he doesn't know what he ever did to deserve you, but he's fucking grateful for it.

“fine. I don't like it, but I'm not losing my only child because my wife wants to seem perfect." your lips quirked into a downward smile, it was all gonna be okay. just as you always knew it would. he looked sternly down at your mother, clearly also tired of her constant bullshit.

“y/d/n. you can't be serious.” your mom's jaw dropped, tears starting to build. her world was crashing around her.

“deadly. choosing between you and her, I'm picking y/n." your dad spoke. his stance now matching your own, his arms crossed his chest.

sam couldn't help but think this is such a odd situation. never in a million years would he ever assume your dad would stick up for the two of you. his lips quirked up only for a second, before falling back into his natural frown.

“i’m going to work." your mom scoffed, storming off. your dad winked at the two of you, held a small thumbs up.

“i'll deal with her. samuel, you better treat her right or i will make you regret it." he flashed a pearly smile and followed after his wife.

you couldn't help but squeal a little, falling back onto your bed. your head landing in sam’s lap. his fingers coming to comb theough the strands.

“am i really worth all this?” insecurity was clear in his voice, he still smiles at you, softly, it's a little sad. he feels so guilty for causing so much tension with your family.

“more than you could ever know. I'm not losing you ever again. you're stuck with me, sammy.” you were cheesing at him, you can't help it. everything was finally falling into place.

“i wouldn't have it any other way.”

[ashes-to-ashesxx]

jily and jegulus are very different ships and I'm astounded people think jegulus shippers stole jily tropes and made it gay

THIS IS NOT HATE ON JILY I LOVE THEM DONT COME FOR ME

just because regulus is a younger sibling w a bad relationship, "reads books" and warms up to james over rime does not make him similar to lily at all.

jily is bad boy x good girl, enemies to lovers in canon, she dislikes james because he's selfish and arrogant, he targets people for no good reason, he's a bully and is incredibly immature. he's a show off and tries to get her attention several times and tries to persuade her to go out with him if she wants him to stop bothering other people. James is the main reason he and lily take so long to get together. it's only when he changes as a person and becomes better that she starts to have feelings for him. there is no point where he is arrogant that lily is attracted to him whatsoever, she hated him then liked him no in-between middle stage.

jegulus on the other hand although being enemies to lovers is completely different character wise and the way the relationship starts out.

reg despises james not because he's arrogant and selfish but because sirius has replaced reg with james. because he knows that sirius hates him and has found someone who he considers to be such a better option to him. james hates regulus because of how sirius was treated by his family. He automatically puts regulus into that umbrella of ppl (or tries to get reg to like him one of the two). But even though reg hates james because of his relationship with sirius he's also incredibly thankful that james was able to get sirius out of their house, there is fondness there even though he doesn't want it to be. Regulus is the one in this relationship that prevents them from getting together.

unlike lily regulus is not open to change and tries force his own feelings down as he is determined to keep hating james even though deep down he doesn't really. Lily is open to james changing as a person and therefore open to the new possibility of a relationship.

BASICALLY what I'm trying to say is YOU CAN SHIP BOTH but there is NO reason to discredit jegulus by saying they stole tropes from jily and just made lily a man just to prove jily is better and to say that jegulus shippers are misogynistic.

BOTH are beautiful ships and are very different from one another, stop creating problems to create problems my god.

[a-mythologynerd]

Just finished The Familiar and it was very fun! Definitely captured my imagination and I adore Leigh Bardugo’s historical and modern fantasies. She does such a great job of evoking those themes of injustice and the grey morality of being locked in systems and corrupt power structures. I’ll probably talk more on this later but if you’re a fan of her work (especially the Alex Stern series) I’d give it a read.

[bmpmp3]

I KNOW every person says this about every medium, art form, hobby, etc. ever, and always specifically about whatever time they get really really really into said hobby BUT i do genuinely think, at least from a software perspective, that we're probably on the cusp of some kind of vocal synth renaissance. the scene never died or even wavered, but with the sheer amount of new software coming out both paid and free, voicevox getting a singing update,stuff like OpenUtau making compatibility easier... i don't care for subscriptions so im only interested in their perpetual licenses but i will admit voisona's subscription model for voicebanks has a lot of benefits for those who just wanna use a voice maybe once or twice.... there are so many robots to make sing you guys. there are so many.

[designernishiki]

sue me but i just really don’t wanna see someone try to rectify that terrible cliche out of character love triangle again like. if they chose to cut that out all together (not cutting YUMI out all together, obviously, just the romantic implications) then they’d probably have my attention. but let’s be real that’s probably not gonna happen

[neige-leblanche]

It’s totally normal to not be with someone who has different ideas on wanting kids from you. I know people who never mentioned their feelings on kids till after marriage and it destroyed the relationship when it came out that one really wanted kids and the other really really didn’t. I could never be with someone who felt strongly about wanting kids, cause I’d either feel pressured to change my mind or feel bad I was holding them back from something they want

thank u :') its hard bc im like. mostly aromantic and the thought of going out to search for someone who does fit all my ideals is not something i can really picture myself ever doing; i suppose it hurts when one has special feelings that rarely ever happen but they're for someone with whom a lasting future isn't really feasible

[lilnasxvevo]

The new Wylde Flowers update drops in like 2-3 days so you are about to more or less lose me for a few weeks as I do a complete new play through to get all the interactions with the new character

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin��� well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back. 

[tohokuu]

there’s only one bed left - tengen, akaza, rengoku, giyuu

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : suggestive, fluff, smut in giyuu’s

a/n : they’re so cute and fluffy i love and omg k want this to happen to me so bad. also, can you guys tell i love akaza???

TENGEN

you and your current boyfriend had offered to take you on a vacation to turkey. you agreed, happily ready to see the mountains and planes of turkey. upon arrival at the hotel, tengen took both of your suitcases, handing them to the bus boy that was at the door to carry your luggage for you.

“tengen, i could’ve held it.” you insisted. he shook his head. “it’s not very flashy.”

you raised an eyebrow, sighing and giving up because there was never any good reason to argue with him and win.

you two walked up to the reception, a kind old man standing behind the counter.

“a reservation for uzui tengen, please.” tengen crooned. his body seemed giddy and the hair on his arms rose. maybe he was cold?

the bus boy carried your luggage onto a cart. you felt bad for him. no one was helping him and he was pushing a card with a total of 12 suitcases with him. he couldn’t see ahead of him but neither tengen helped him, nor did he allow you to.

you pursed your lips, hoping the awkward silence would pass by quickly in the elevator.

at the ding of the elevator, you all stepped out and tengen was gracious enough to carry 4 suitcases on his own, not even breaking a sweat.

his work out routine was rough.

upon arrival, you looked into the large spacious king suite. two beds settled into each side of the room, 5 feet of space between both of them.

tengen walked through the threshold in shock. the smile on his face replaced with a shocked and confused expression.

he threw his arms out forward, bending and looking at the two beds.

“what the fuck!? i asked for one bed!”

AKAZA

“there’s only one room left and it’s got a single queen sized bed.” the receptionist said as she looked up at you and akaza.

you and him turned to look into each others eyes, dumbfounded expressions on your face.

“uhm… are you sure there aren’t any more?” he asked her. she shook her head. “i’ve checked twice, sir. this is the only room available. there will be more later tomorrow.”

you observed your situation. would you drive through the pouring snow for another hour for the next hotel, or sleep in your car and risk freezing to death?

what could you do? because you’d rather sleep on the edge of a volcano than sleep in the same bed as akaza.

not that you hated him or anything. it was his sheer attractiveness that pulled you in. he was so handsome and so sweet and respectful, but he was also strong and kind.

there was nothing to dislike and that’s exactly what bothered you. you liked him.

so how could you be able to handle sleeping with him??

“does the room come with a couch?” he asked. the receptionist shook her head.

“i’m afraid not, sir. there’s only one room available with one bed.”

akaza sighed and looked at you. “we can stay if you’d like, or i can go find a different hotel .” he quickly offered. you shook your head.

“it’s too cold, akaza. just stay here, we’ll figure it out.”

-

just like that, you two are forced to be in close proximity together. akaza had tried to take the floor but the cold marble was freezing and you’d rather not make him suffer through that.

so your next option was to sleep together with pillows put in between you two as a barrier.

the silence was awkward.

there was so much tension, it could have been cut with a knife. sleep wouldn’t come easy either, you were too stressed … and a little bit hot.

“akaza, it’s hot in here.” you whined. he sighed, knowing it was because the hotel had racked the heater up so high and the pillows and blankets you used to separate yourselves wasn’t helping.

“let’s get rid of the pillows, then.” there was hesitation in his voice. he wasn’t completely sure if you’d be okay with taking the pillows down. you sighed, thinking with your cunt instead.

“it’s perfectly fine.” you smiled, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at him from across your little wall.

the pillows were thrown on to the floor by the both of you in a comical manner. you pushed the comforter down a bit, revealing your tiny shorts and crop top.

this felt a lot better.

but akaza warmed up. he realized how close to naked you were lying next to him on this big bed. what was to stop him if he wanted you?

his brain, of course.

“can we cuddle?” he asked. his voice was filled with that same hesitation from earlier. you turned your head to look at him.

“what?” you asked.

even in the moonlight, you could see the redness of his cheeks and the way his long lashes fluttered over his blue eyes.

“nothing, i-… i just-“

your wave of confidence washed over you as you turned towards him, hooking one leg over his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his body was frigid. he didn’t know what to do. your own was excruciatingly hot because how on earth did you manage to do this?

a moment of silence and pure awkwardness passed by until his arms wrapped around you, a little bit tighter as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“you smell good.” you two whispered at the same time. a laugh booming into the air as you realized your mistake. he laughed too, eyes shutting closed while peacocks formed at the corner of his eyes.

he looked back at you, smiling in content in this position he got himself in.

a hand trailed up your neck and as if the world has slowed down and the wind had began to blow, you felt the searing touch of akaza’s lips slot against yours.

you whimpered into his mouth, kissing back with just as much passion. he held onto your face he tenderly, cradling it as though you might break.

“i like you.” he whispered against your lips.

“i like you more.”

RENGOKU

“rengokuuuu!!” you wailed. he turned to look at you, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“what happened, y/n?” the orange haired male asked.

you pouted, explaining to him that there was only one cabin left and the cabin only had one bed. rengoku smiled as if there were no issues. “that’s quite alright. i can take the couch!”

you shook your head. “no, absolutely not. i’d feel terrible.” the smile never faltered from his face. he was an endless ray of sunshine that kept you warm for days.

“don’t worry, my dear y/n. we’ll figure it out. don’t worry.”

-

you wondered how he’d ended up in your bed. he was shirtless, hair sprawled out messily on the pillowcase and his abs were on full display.

you lay against him, his arm pulling you over his chest. then you looked down…

‘why am i fucking naked??’

rengoku was also naked… does that mean you two?..

you looked in the corner at the empty bottle of whiskey. your face felt impossibly hot but a wet feeling erupted in between your legs at the idea of rengoku being the one to pleasure you.

still, you sat there in shock. how could you have spent a night with rengoku and not even remember it?! this was absolutely atrocious.

“good morning, my flower.” a voice interrupted your thoughts. it was deep, coming from the broad chest of the man you slept with last night.

“g-good morning, rengoku…” you replied, swallowing an awkward lump in your throat.

“rengoku, did we… did we fuck last night?” you asked him sheepishly, holding the bed spread tightly to your chest. he looked confused, still half asleep.

he peered one eye open, looking to check if he was nude.

he was.

with that, he shot up. a blush enflamed his cheeks. what the fuck..he thought.

“n-no.. i didn’t just fuck you for the first time and not remember it.” he whined, worry deeply set in his voice. you calmed him down, rubbing a soft hand up and down his chest.

“we have many more opportunities to make love again.” you reasoned. you had been with the man for just a few months, wanting to take it slow and surely not sleep with each other until you were both ready but this… this was quite different than what you planned.

“i know, but angel, this was the first time.” he whined softly.

you pulled his head onto your chest. running your fingers through his hair, trying to get him to stop being mean to himself.

“it’s okay, baby.” you cooed. “we have all the time in the world, don’t worry.”

“well in that case…you wanna go round 2 right now?”

GIYUU

“there’s only one room left, sir.” the receptionist called out. giyuu sighed. “we’ll take that one.” he didn’t give you much of a choice. dragging your luggage and his with him up the elevator, he hadn’t said a word.

you figured he was already quite annoyed about the pompous amount of rain outside. you two were traveling for a meeting and the rain had delayed both of you. it bothered him endlessly that he was going to miss such an important meeting.

you chose not to speak, not wanting to irritate the quiet male.

he set down your luggage on the side, next to the bed. his clothes came off next. jacket, sweater and a black tank top that he chose to leave on. he took off his jeans, lounging around in plain black boxers.

“take the bed. i’ll be fine on the couch.” he grumbled. you nodded, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable to sleep in.

-

you walked back out in a large t shirt and panties. you figured it didn’t matter much because your t shirt was so big that it reached the middle of your thigh, anyway.

but giyuu saw. he was turned towards you when you reached down to put your phone on charging, your ass on clear display for him.

he breathed sharply through his nose. it was simply a bad idea to even have turned facing your direction. he felt his dick semi-hard.

turning around, he ignored it, choosing peace instead.

it was later that night that something woke him up. was it the rush of heavy rain? the hotel telephone? or … heavy breathing coming from your side of the room.

he quietly listened, steadying his own breathing.

his eyes widened as he heard everything that fell from your lips, dick straining against his boxers.

fuck.

you were touching yourself… to the thought of him.

the mewls were hushed, doing your best to keep quiet. the air was hot and heavy and when he slowly peeked to look over, he saw you with your legs spread. they stretched far apart as your pretty pussy was on display. he could hear how wet you were, fingers sloshing around in the mess inside of you.

“g-giyuu…” you breathed heavily. he couldn’t help but trail his own hand to his cock, rubbing it uncomfortably against the palm of his large hands.

“f-feels so good.” you whined softly.

he could only imagine. he could think of 10 different ways that he could make you cum. 10 different ways to make you go stupid and crying for him and his cock.

he rutted against his palm harder, trying to keep the grunts of pleasure in. he was so close to his orgasm, just needed a bit more, and you gave it to him.

“ ‘m gonna cum so hard,, g-giyuu..” you cried softly, the tears in your voice apparent.

then what giyuu got up, trailing his way to your bed. he pulled the covers farther down, revealing your calves.

your eyes shot open as you stopped, the pleasure long gone.

“g-giyuu, this isn’t what it looks like- i swear!” you shouted.

he put a hand over your mouth.

“shut up, i’ll take care of you now.”

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

[vivwritesfics]

"He Can't Know"

Y/N Wolff and her father have always had a rocky relationship. Formula One was bringing them together. She's not quite ready to let her relationship with a certain Ferarri driver ruin that

1.4K

Part Two

"He can't know," Y/N whispered as they met in the dark halls of the hotel. "If he finds out, he'll kill me, you and your entire team," she whispered, pressed up against the wall.

Her back was flush against it, her arms thrown around his neck. They were close enough that there was no space between them. If anybody was to appear now there would be no hiding it.

"We can't hide it forever," he whispered back, leaning down to kiss her.

Y/N pushed him away. "Yes we can. We need to be more careful, too. What if paparazzi is watching the hotel? What if somebody with a camera catches us when they think we're alone and they sell us out to the tabloids?"

Releasing his grip on her waist, Charles pulled away from her and let out a sigh. "You really want to keep me hidden away forever? Are you going to wait until we're married with kids before you tell your dad?"

She let out a sigh and went to say something else, but Charles had already walked away, leaving her standing in the hall.

That was the problem with Y/N Wolff, daughter to one of the biggest names in Formula One (outside of the drivers, of course). She found love and she couldn't express it, unless she wanted her dad to go Darth Toto on said loves ass.

Y/N and her father had never had a very close relationship. He was travelling a lot and Y/N never got to see him. She resented him for never being there. For missing all the school plays, the dance recitals, all of it.

Formula One was the reason Y/N hated him. Formula One was going to be the thing to fix their relationship. As soon as Y/N turned twenty one and she was done with university, she asked her father if she could join him as he travelled the world for the sport he loved.

Toto jumped at the chance. Y/N hadn't been to a grand prix since she was a little girl; he couldn't wait to take her around to experience it all.

Unfortunately for Toto, Y/N seemed to be preoccupied.

And she was. She really was preoccupied. With a driver clad in red and yellow.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. She kept her head down and pulled her phone out. With no other options, Y/N texted him. I'm sorry, she texted. I'm sorry and I will tell him, just not yet.

She stayed the messages, watching the three little dots appear for a few seconds, and then disappear right after. She threw her head back as she swiped her keycard against the door and pushed it open.

Charles wasn't happy with her, that much was clear. But what was she to do? Tell her dad and risk him killing both her and Charles? No way. She wasn't ready for that.

***

"Hey dad," said Y/N when she walked into the Mercedes garage. Toto looked at her and gave her a smile, already engrossed in meetings and work. She made her way to the back of the garage and sat alongside George's girlfriend.

He was just a little further down the paddock. He currently wanted nothing to do with her.

Y/N could do it now. She could rip off the bandaid and tell her dad everything. And then watch him rip off Charles' head.

She pulled out her phone to text him. Hey, she sent in one text. Good luck today.

Read but not answered. That was okay; he was a busy guy. Especially on race day.

“Good luck,” Y/N said to both Lewis and George. She reached down to scratch the top of Roscoes head as he came trotting past. It wasn’t long now until the race started. The drivers were doing their last minute prep.

When the race finally began, Y/N was still sat at the back of the Mercedes garage, headset on as she watched the race. When she first came with her dad to watched the Formula One, Y/N had found the races thrilling. Now, as she watched the two Ferrari’s driving around, her heart was racing in her chest and anxiety had her chewing her nails.

The race was over just as fast as it had begun (although not really, it lasted the amount of time it was meant to. For Y/N though, it felt like it was over just as quickly as it had begun). Lewis was on the podium and George just about missed out.

Charles, though, he was on the podium, alongside Max and Lewis. Y/N watched him, clapping her hands as he sprayed the champagne. She wasn’t going to lose him over fear.

After the race she made her way back to the hotel. Her father was letting her stay in the city for a little while, letting her have a little holiday. As she got out of the car and walked across the lobby, Y/N checked her phone.

Meet me in the hall.

Five little words. Five little words that meant so much to her.

Getting into the elevator, Y/N repeatedly pressed the button for the fourth floor. The elevator doors were too slow to close. The elevator was too slow going up. The elevator doors were too slow to open again.

Charles was waiting there, outside of the elevators. His arms were folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Mon amour,” he said as she stepped out of the elevator.

“Are you still mad at me?”

Charles shook his head. “No, I’m not mad. But you need to tell your father at some point. I want to be with you, and I don’t want it to be in secret.”

Letting out a sigh, Y/N fell against him. “I really want to tell him,” she confessed. “I really want to tell my dad but I’m so afraid of what might happen.”

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head. “We can tell him together.”

No, not together. This was something Y/N had to do alone.

***

“Hey dad.”

Once again, Toto was too busy talking to properly acknowledge his daughter. She awkwardly waited beside him, hands shoved into her pockets as she waited for him to stop talking. But Toto kept going. It was understandable; he was a busy guy.

“Hey dad,” she tried again. “Can we talk?”

“One moment,” Toto responded.

Not good enough. “Hey dad. Can we talk? It’s about something important.”

That finally got Toto’s attention. He apologised to those he was speaking to and followed his daughter as she tried to find an empty room.

Once they found one, Y/N closed the door behind her. She leaned against it as her father took a seat. This was maybe one of the hardest things she ever had to do. “I’ve been travelling around with you for all of the season so far, and, a lot of things can happen when… you’re… travelling.”

There was really no delicate way to put it. Toto looked at her expectantly.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say, is that I’ve been seeing someone. And they are in the business of Formula One.”

Toto stood up. His arms were crossed as he walked over to the door. “Which one of them is it?” He asked, pointing at the door. “Which one of them touched you?”

“What? Nobody touched—”

“Who do I have to fire?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “What? Nobody. Nobody in Mercedes touched me. I’ve started seeing Charles.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Toto was saying nothing, and that was putting Y/N on edge. “Dad, please.”

But Toto held up his hand, silencing her. “You’ve started seeing Charles Leclerc? The Ferrari driver?”

Y/N nodded her head.

“I’m going to kill him.” He was calm, which, Y/N supposed was good.

But he was smiling. And that was better than Y/N could have asked for. “I know dad.”

“I’m going to kill him right now.”

A/N: Hey guys! So I moved to finish my studies and my roommate is going to watch the f1 with me I'm so happy. Anyways, with my studies resuming, I'm not gonna have as much time to write.

[ffsg0jo]

"She asked for no pickles" with the JJK men if you would like?

characters (all written separately): nanami x reader ; gojo x reader ; choso x reader

warnings: fem!reader , mentions of food , pickles , swearing , gojo being weird , light angst (choso)

w/c: 1.5k (roughly 500-600 words each character)

a/n: this was really fun to write, so thank you sm for sending a request in !! i kinda deviated from the brief a little, so i hope you don't mind too much :)) i hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think !! ive also decided to split it into 2 parts since it was getting really long.

part 1 (nanami ; gojo ; choso) ; part 2 (toji ; geto ; sukuna)

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ::

"sweetheart what's wrong? why aren't you eating?"

your husband’s concerned voice pulled you out of your reverie. you sighed, weighing up your options, trying to decide whether it was worth telling kento your problem or not.

it was supposed to be a cute day out for you both, first going to an art museum which had a special exhibition you were both dying to see. then deciding to visit a nearby park with freshly baked bread, feeding your beloved husband a bite, and then the ducks.

now you were both currently sitting at a restaurant, and the sight before your eyes was enough to ruin your mood.

your husband reaches out and holds your hand from across the table, eyebrows furrowing further as he sees the despair on your face. you refuse to look at him, and kento starts to worry even more.

"my sweet girl, please tell me what's wrong," he urges, lightly squeezing your hand.

you sigh once more, and he follows where your eyes are pointedly staring the burger on your plate. immediately, he sees pickles sticking out from the edges, cemented into the melted cheese, and everything clicks.

"i asked for no pickles ken, but i don't want to be rude and send it back."

kento rubs your hand with his fingers and asks if you want him to take pickles off for you.

"i'll still be able to taste them though because i know they were there," you slightly pouted.

you looked so upset, and your husband hated that. you were really looking forward to trying this restaurant's burger due to all the good reviews you've heard. and as a fellow foodie, he can empathise and share your massive disappointment.

that won't do, kento thinks. his dear heart asked for no pickles, so she'll get a burger with no pickles.

kento spots a waiter nearby and makes eye contact, politely smiling and lifting his hand up. the waiter comes over immediately and asks if everything's okay.

"my beautiful wife here asked for no pickles on her burger, but there seems to be pickles," he looks at you and sees the slight embarrassment on your face and reassuringly rubs your hand. "would it be possible to send this one back and get one without pickles, please?"

you looked up at the waiter in hope with a bashful look on your face.

"absolutely sir," the waiter smiles at your husband and moves to take away the plate from in front of you. he turns to you and dips his head. "i apologise for any inconvenience caused, ma'am. i'll get that to you as soon as possible, alongside a desert of your choice, on the house."

you thank the waiter profusely, and once he's gone, you turn to your husband with the biggest smile on your face. you bring your joined hands up to lips and press kisses on the back of his hand.

"i love you so much kento, thank you!"

your husband smiles with a light blush adorning his cheeks. he leans over the table and presses his lips softly against yours.

"anything for you my sweetheart, i love you too." he whispers softly, with his lips still pressed against yours.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ::

“satoru, my darling, my honeybun sweetie pie, did you put pickles in my fucking pastry?”

your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, freezes at your tone, with his thumb pressed onto his lips to lick away cream from his cake that had gotten onto it. he turns to you with an incredulous look on his face, hand slowly falling back down to his lap. everything’s silent for a moment as he just blinks at you.

“pickles? did you say pickles babe?”

seeing the visible confusion on satoru’s face, you move the plate in your hands closer to him and pout.

“there’s pickles in my pastry.”

he looks down, and you’re right. for some reason, alongside the cream and the strawberries, there were two small slices of pickles half hidden underneath the strawberries. satoru’s confusion doubles, but then he remembers your accusation and how you looked like you were contemplating murder.

“that wasn’t me babe, i promise, scout’s honour!”

“don’t disrespect scouts toru,” you whine. “i was really looking forward to it you know.” you place the plate down on the tea table in front of you and huff, falling back and sinking into the sofa.

the only thing that got you through the long, hard day was the prospect of feasting on the pastry you bought and cuddling up to your lover. and now it was all ruined. what kind of sicko jokes around and puts pickles on perfectly delicious pastries, actively working to ruin people’s days.

seeing your lover’s shock, you’re inclined to believe him. out of everyone, satoru knew not to mess with people’s food, especially sweet treats. but you could’ve sworn putting it in the fridge with no pickles on it. so what happened?

satoru looks at you all upset, and he loses his appetite. don’t get him wrong, he would die for cake. but seeing you so distraught, he could not, in good conscience, enjoy his slice without you. he looks down at the slice of cake in his hand and decides to make a compromise.

“here, my love,” he says with a sweet smile on his face, handing you his plate. “you can have my slice.”

you look up at him, with your mouth slightly open in disbelief. no way, satoru just offered his cake. you never thought you’d live to see the day. looking at his plate, it does look delicious and pickle-less, but you shake your head. he deserves his sweet treat.

“s’fine baby, thank you though.”

“no, honestly, i don’t mind something savoury with my sweets,” he pushes the plate into your hands and grabs the pastry from the table. satoru makes a show of picking a pickle slice off the pastry and licking the cream off. “see it’s delicious,” he smiles brightly, seemingly enjoying it?

“i love you, but you’re a freak,” you grimace burrowing yourself into satoru’s side.

he only chuckles in response, munching on the pickle. he absolutely hates it. he’s a brilliant actor, but you can see it in his eyes, yet he still swallows it. you lift your hand up to his cheek, holding it gently and pressing kisses to every single bit of skin you can reach. your lover only gives you a cheesy smile in return, popping another cream covered pickle into his mouth.

“you don’t have to eat that love, we can just share your cake.”

satoru shakes his head, adamantly refusing. instead choosing to take a massive bite of your pastry covered in pickle juices. it’s disgusting, and he’ll probably cry in the shower before bed at the horrifying taste, but he could handle a couple of pickles if it ensured your happiness.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ::

“baby it’s fine, i promise”

“no it’s not choso, first they made fun of you, and then they messed up your order on purpose,” you spluttered in pure disbelief. “it’s disrespectful and rude, i’m not letting them get away with it!”

how dare they, you thought as you sped back to the fast-food chain choso had gotten food for you both from. your husband is the sweetest and most respectful soul to have ever graced this earth. how dare they make fun of his facial marks and hair. you wanted to hug and kiss him all over, but first, you had some strong words for the workers at the food shop.  

to say you were fuming was the absolute least of it. you know for a fact that choso probably just awkwardly stood there, hearing their remarks and silently accepted his order whilst they laughed at his buns. picturing it only made you angrier, fists balling and blood rushing through your ears.

“baby, please calm down,” your husband called, hot on your heels. you were only a couple of shops away, and he absolutely did not want to make a scene. he took hold of your arm and gently pulled you towards him, grabbing your other hand in his too.

“my love, it’s okay, just let it go,” he urged. you looked at his face and you saw the slight shine in his eyes, and you were about to turn to straight back around. choso only tightens his hold on you and his hand moves up to hold your face.

“they’re just miserable people, not worth wasting your time on them baby.”

“you would do the same for me cho, i’m not hearing it!”

“i absolutely would, but the workers were young, and i don’t want you getting in trouble for fighting a bunch of kids,” he stressed. “let’s just go home and cuddle, and order takeout or something. please.”

the discomfort of going back inside the shop was written all over his face, and you really didn’t want to make choso’s day harder or worse than it already was. your husband deserved the world, and it made your heart break, knowing that there were people being mean to him. sighing, you lean up and press a soft kiss to the bridge of choso’s nose, right where his mark is.

“okay,” you relent. “let’s go home.”

choso kisses your hand and smiles at you, relief written all over his face.

“you didn’t deserve that choso, i’m really sorry they said all those horrible things to you.”

“’s fine,” he says dismissing it. “my wonderful wife did my hair and tells me how gorgeous she thinks i am every minute of the day. some silly teenager’s words won’t affect me.”

it was easy to see the words had affected him more than he let on, but for now, you decided to let it go. tomorrow you’d talk to him and offer reassurance properly and make his day extra special, but for now you’d let it go, seeing how clearly he wanted to leave it behind.

holding onto his hand, you both turned around and started making your way back home, discussing what you guys should order, already feeling lighter.

“oh babe, let’s invite yuuji over, we could have a family dinner,” you suggested, knowing if there was one thing that would cheer him up, it would be his brother. your husband’s face immediately lights up and he beams at you, nodding his head enthusiastically and agreeing.

it’s sorted then, cuddles with you, then takeout as a family, and then some more cuddles with you both whilst watching a movie.

extra note : geto put pickles on your pastry thinking it was gojo's when he came over the day before. gojo had been annoying him all week, so he decided to hit him where it hurt. when he found out it was yours, he felt terrible and brought extra pastries for you when he next came round.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[romypearl]

The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia

Word count: +2200

Unrevised

She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.

Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.

It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.

"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.

"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"

"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."

She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.

"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"

"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."

"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"

"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."

Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.

Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.

To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.

"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."

Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.

"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.

"No, thanks!"

"How about Doritos?"

"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.

"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."

"You really like berries."

"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.

"Red is your color..."

"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."

Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.

"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.

"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.

"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."

They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."

The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.

Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.

She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.

"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."

"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."

"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."

"And philosophy." Y/N adds.

"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"

Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."

"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.

Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."

"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."

It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.

"Do you wear glasses?"

"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."

"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."

Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.

"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."

With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.

She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @chaengluva @avelynpye @bianchiniomg @royalityofmultifandom @lottiematthewsceo @notjaexiee @mayles @l1lass @bridkesby @newyork1432

Join my taglist here ^^

[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

[totaly-obsessed]

Watch it!

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra can only keep her relationship a secret for so long...

-> A little shorter

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

When Kyra joined you at Arsenal both of you could not have been happier, but while you were already an established part of the team and already made a name for yourself in the WSL after joining Arsenal after two seasons at Chelsea, Kyra was new in the league.

So in a joint decision, you decided to keep your relationship private for now. Not a secret, but private. But it was so funny seeing the girls trying to find out who your girlfriend was, and trying to set Kyra up on a date.

As time went on Kyra’s title of ‘annoying little sister’ was slowly set in stone and it did not make her happy. Why couldn’t she just be Kyra – a good, young footballer who was new to the team?

So then she started to actively hide your relationship – even going as far as to ignore you in training, only talking again when she came home to your shared apartment and it was starting to take a toll on you.

But either Kyra didn’t see it or she just didn’t care – even after you tried to talk about it with her she brushed you off, stating that she was meeting up with Charlie, your joined friend, who has just joined you in London.

Conversations got rarer and frosty dinners more often. You hated this. She had to dislike it too, right? No one would like to sit in a quiet, stuffy, tense room. Not even with their girlfriend.

Before the much dreaded Manchester City game you were faced with a screaming Kyra – who had enough of your complaints, so it was safe to say, that the atmosphere was tense once your girlfriend walked in with Katie and Caitlin.

The couple had picked the brunette up at your home after she had refused to enter your cars and decided to make a scene.

Everybody noticed the difference – Steph and Caitlin had already been confused, the two of you had been such good friends in Australia, and the World Cup camp was filled with giggles as you pranked one Matilda after the other. Even Mini didn’t know what happened and Kyra tended to tell her everything.

The match was brutal and your girlfriend couldn’t help but wince every time you went down after a tackle from the opponent. And while you got up every time, she couldn’t bear to watch, trying to keep herself busy somehow.

It was a 0 – 0 deadlock in the 70th minute when Kyra had been subbed on for Kim, who was still struggling a little after her injury. And just a couple of minutes later her worst nightmare came true.

You went in for a header against Alex Greenwood, but the ball rebounded off of someone’s head – who wasn’t important to the young Australian, as she watched her girlfriend immediately crash to the ground after colliding.

Alex stayed down as well.

Fuck there was a lot of blood.

And before she could even think about it Kyra started to sprint across the pitch, and Steph could have sworn she had never seen her young friend that fast.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

You weren’t – evident by the lack of an answer. She quickly noticed your unconscious state and immediately fell to her knees next to you. Shaky hands pulled down your shirt, trying to keep you safe from the stares of the viewers.

“You’re gonna be okay my love – I promise.”

While your teammates noticed the suddenly very affectionate nicknames, there were more pressing matters at hand, you were still bleeding from your forehead.

The medics took a look at you and quickly decided that getting you on a stretcher and off the field was their best option.

Getting you on that dreaded, bright orange thing was a slow process and the paramedics were as careful as they could but a quiet, painful moan left your lips as your eyes cracked open.

You could hear Kyra crying somewhere in the area around your head, while you could see the other girls by your feet, as you were carried away, every step shaking your whole body, releasing a new wave of pain originating from your head.

But it was going fine, until one of the people that were carrying the stretcher slipped, letting go briefly of his corner, sending you into a tilted position. The pain-filled cry could be heard in the deadly silent stands.

“Watch it you fuck – that’s my girlfriend!”

Heads snapped to Kyra, who didn’t even look away from the guy who let go of you.

“Out of my way.” And just like that your girlfriend took over and Jonas had to look for another person to sub in.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this young lady!” But Steph’s shout was completely ignored as you left behind a stunned Arsenal team who had just figured out, that you and Kyra did in fact not hate each other.

[berrieluv]

james doesn't know. oral sex (fem receiving), cheating? idk. public sex too.

For Remus and the rest of the Marauders; James was untouchable. The boy has done too much for them to ever go against his wishes. And that was the reason why Remus hanged out with James annoying girlfriend without a word.

Except for maybe the times he snapped against you. But James laughed about it, it seemed playful enough for him or the rest to let it slip. And for James, Remus would do anything. Absolutely anything.

Remus could never face James, and he was a complete goner for his girlfriend, so Remus had no option but to bare her.

James and Remus were animately chatting on the common room when you arrived, Remus rolled his eyes at the sight of you and you frowned in annoyance. James, your sweet and loving boyfriend smiled, dragging you to his lap and kissing your lips deeply as you were getting comfortable.

James then keeps his talk with Remus, smiling occasionally, a few seconds later his hand makes its way through your thighs, his finger circling the fabric of your underwear over your clit, pulling out a moan out of you as you tried to hide on his neck.

"So, as I was telling you, James..." Remus continued as James made his way to your pussy with his fingers.

"Remus" James called, taking you by surprise and spreading your legs on his lap, "Taste it"

"What?"

"What?"

Both of you asked incredulous at the same time, James smirked in response and kissed you for a few seconds.

"Maybe that's what you need to stop being... so defensive with each other" James' fingers caresses your folds as he smirks at Remus. "Come on, don't you get all shy on me now" He chuckles.

Remus breaths are heavy but he kneels in front of you, crawling to your pussy, his hot breath against your flesh while he looked at your pussy as a starved wolf.

James hands hold your legs open as Remus' tongue finally finds its place inside your cunt.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" James asks Remus, he is clamped tight between you, Remus moved his tongue as a starved, possessed man, he didn't think he would enjoy this as much. Hell, he didn't even think he wanted to do this.

"Do you like it, baby?" James asked you with a soft smile and leaned down to kiss you. Your moans were silent against his lips and you were fucking lucky no one tried to enter or walk through the common room because you don't think you'll find the strength to put Remus away.

Remus suctioned your clit when his fingers found their way inside of you. You were completely wet and Remus used his lips as a straw in your cunt. Your walls were clenching around his fingers.

When you orgasmed in his mouth, it yet wasn't enough for Remus to stop, James put a hand on your abdomen to hold you tight against him, trying to keep you still on his lap.

"So?" James asked when Remus pulled away "Are you gonna keep hating each other?"