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#THE TEXT REFUSES TO STAY PINK
sugerkainart · 4 months
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golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]
GT: Help! TG: wut TG: lol TG: hi dirk TG: <3
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minisugakoobies · 1 month
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two am | yjh
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Pairing: Jeonghan x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, exes to lovers, non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: late night texting, excessive use of the pet name 'baby,' fighting as foreplay, dirty talk, multiple references to reader's pussy, implied/referenced cheating, references to oral sex (reader receiving), slight exhibitionism, riding/grinding, nipple play (licking/biting/sucking), p in v protected sex, Jeonghan is bad for reader but they can't stay away
Word Count: 1.6k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: It's two am and your ex is texting you again.
Text Prompts: Both are in italicized pink font in the story.
A/N: I'm back with another installment in my SVT texts series. This one is dedicated to @minttangerines. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCE!! 🎉🎉 I brought you some toxic Jeonghan, hope you like him. 💜 Thank you for being such an amazing friend, tour guide, driver, and partner in crime. 😘
Soundtrack: 2AM by SZA; Sleazy Bed Track by the Bluetones
Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
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It’s nearly two in the morning when the warning pops up on your phone:
Cover your phone, explicit material coming your way
You barely have the time to excuse yourself from the table, heading in a panic towards the bathroom, before the next text from your ex arrives.
Jeonghan never includes his full face in his photos. It’s always just that maddening smirk of his, catching your eye first before it’s drawn down to the main focus - thin fingers wrapped around an obscene bulge, a darkened tip poking above the waistband of his boxers. 
You lock yourself in a stall and fire back.
You: You have to stop sending me these photos
Satan: That’s a rude way to say thank you
You: I’m serious, Jeonghan. We’re done
He doesn’t reply. You know better than to think he’s accepted your response. He’s refused to accept it for the last three months. 
Your phone chimes. Another photo. The boxers have been pulled down. You bite your lip, then catch yourself, snarling at your reflection on your screen.
You: I said stop!
Satan: That’s what you say now, but we both know that’s not what you’ll be saying later
You: There won’t be a later
You: Not this time
Satan: Really? You gonna tell me you don’t miss this cock?
Satan: That your pussy’s not already dripping imagining it inside you?
It’s the anger his words stir in you that’s making your pulse pound right now, you tell yourself.
You almost believe it. 
Satan: Come over, baby. Wanna make a mess of you like I did last time
You: Not. Happening.
Satan: You out with your friends again tonight? 
Of course he knows where you are. You’ve been going out with your friends every week since the breakup. Tonight’s the first night in a while that you’re sober, not in the mood to drink. This conversation is making you regret that. 
You: What does it matter if I am?
Satan: It’s almost closing time. Think you can find someone to take home?
Satan: Someone to make you forget about me? About how I fuck you?
Satan: You know no one can make you cum like me
To think his confidence is what once drew you to him. Now it repulses you, almost as much as your thighs suddenly clenching together does. 
You: You’re unreal
Satan: That’s right
You: That’s not a compliment
Satan: I know what you want
You: What I want is for you to fuck off forever
Satan: Baby please. Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this
Satan: You can block me anytime you want. But you don’t
Satan: Why do you think that is?
You could answer him. Argue for a while, like you always do. Like you always did. It was the thing that the two of you did best - second only to fucking. You scroll upthread, looking at the last time you fought, reminding yourself how it ended:
Satan: Don’t tell me what to do
You: Eat me out
Satan: Okay tell me what to do
It’s not in your phone what happened next, but it’s seared into your memory, replaying behind your eyelids - lying on Jeonghan’s bed, legs splayed while he puts his wicked mouth to its best use. 
But you also remember the come down. The anger at your weakness. The shame. Knowing nothing has changed. That he hasn’t changed.  
You keep scrolling back, seeing the same thing over and over, watching the pattern repeat. You could stop it right now - end the conversation, delete him from your phone, and go rejoin your friends. That would be the smart thing to do. 
Satan: It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to admit it
Satan: Just come over and show me
If only you were smart.
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“Mmmphm!”
The hem of your shirt makes a terrible gag, doing nothing to keep your volume down. Jeonghan’s head snaps up, gaze torn away from where he was watching himself disappear into you.
“Quiet, baby. Do you want them to hear you?” 
The “them” in question are his roommates, Joshua and Seungcheol, who are both sleeping on the other sides of the walls. Jeonghan would be sleeping in one of those bedrooms, too, if he wasn’t out here fucking you on the couch. Or, rather, sitting back and looking smug while you ride him on the couch. 
He knows you don’t want anyone to hear you, so you don’t bother to answer him, just glare while stuffing more of the already spit-soaked material into your mouth. His roommates would judge you for being here. Just like your friends did earlier, when you told them you were leaving. You said you were tired, but they’ve noticed your pattern too. And they’ve stopped trying to get you to break it, unwilling to expend their energy on such an impossible task. 
That’s fine. You don’t need to drag anyone else down to the bottom with you.
Jeonghan runs his fingertips over the exposed skin of your stomach, chuckling when you shiver. 
“Always so sensitive,” he tuts, shaking his head. 
He cups your breasts with his warm hands, pushing your shirt up further until the chilly night air hits your nipples, then bends his head down enough to lightly graze one with his teeth. You gasp, nearly dropping your impromptu gag, and Jeonghan pauses with his lips near your other tit, looking up at you, saying nothing, but his eyes communicate so clearly what he’s thinking - Be good, baby. 
If your relationship was a song, that was his refrain:
Be good, baby, I have to work late this weekend.
Be good, baby, I’m going out for drinks with some coworkers.
Baby, she’s just a friend. Don’t worry. Be good for me.
Despite everything, a part of you still yearns to be good for him. So you bite down harder. 
Jeonghan hums in approval. His mouth latches onto your other nipple, sucking lewdly, not much quieter than your whining has been. Hypocrite. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your loud as fuck thoughts and focus on the wet warmth of his tongue as it laves over and around your nipple a few times, in broad, messy strokes.
You arch into him, lacing your fingers through his hair to try to hold him in place. But like always, he can’t be tamed, lifting his head to smirk at you. You whimper, and he smiles harder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you to his hungry mouth. You eagerly lean forward as your shirt falls from your jaw. 
Jeonghan’s kisses overwhelm your senses until you’re drowning in him. His tongue glides like honey, thick and slow, melting over yours, and you groan, grinding on him slowly.
This is what you needed. Even after all that went down, all the lies, all the tears, you still crave him, body and soul. If this is the only way that you can have him, this two a.m. interlude, then you’ll take every second you can, ignoring the little voice whispering that you’ll regret them all.
“That’s it, just like that.” Jeonghan looks down again, mesmerized by the smooth roll of your hips. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, hard enough that you know you’ll still feel his touch tomorrow. “Fuck yes, baby, ride it.” 
He guides you up and down his shaft, the wet sounds of your cunt sliding over him embarrassingly loud in the still room, and you let him control the pace, all your concentration on his lips - kissing them, nibbling them, sucking on them one by one. Trying desperately to get your fill of them, of him, because this is it. This is the last time. You swear it. 
Maybe this time, it will stick.
Jeonghan’s thumb rolls over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth. He does it again, and again, and just like that you’re falling apart, body singing electric as he lights up your nervous system with his touch. He keeps thrusting up into you, taking control again as you tremble above him, and you know he’s reaching his crest, the familiar signs too obvious to miss. He drops his head, muttering an endless stream of ‘fuck’s and ‘baby’s in that choked voice of his, and then his hands lock your hips in place, as deep as he can get as he fills the condom he wears.
It’s always intense, this moment, when it comes. The two of you, breathing heavy and spent, clinging to each other as you ride out the waves, like you’re hanging on for dear life. Or maybe that’s just you. Because you know that once the high is gone…
“Knew this pussy missed me.”
…the lows return.
Jeonghan laughs when you push yourself off his chest. He pinches your ass cheek for good measure, and you scowl, scrambling to climb out of his lap as quickly as you can, which is pretty difficult given your loose limbs. 
“Don’t say that.” 
Jeonghan watches with simmering amusement as you dress hastily, fumbling with your bra to the point that you nearly decide to leave it. “But it’s true.” 
“No, it’s not, and besides, it’s fucking gross when you talk like that. Like I’m not a person or something.” 
“Whatever.” He’s already losing interest, reaching for his phone. No need to argue anymore. He got his. 
You can’t get your clothes on fast enough. “Stop sending me photos. Don’t text me again.” 
You might as well be talking to the couch. He hums mechanically, scrolling away. “Lock the door on your way out.”
In the elevator, your finger hovers in its usual spot over the delete button. 
A chime. Jeonghan’s mouth, tongue extending between the peace sign he’s flashing, followed by four words: Sweet dreams, baby. 
You slip your phone back into your pocket as you descend.
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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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lcriedlastnight · 3 months
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first couple of dates reader is super reserved and shy and Lando is just unabashedly flirting in the most attractive way ever
tysm anon, my first lando request! ilysm <3 also shy reader resonates so well with me for some reason.
tw: fem!reader, swears, not spell checked, lmk if anything else.
w/c: 1.8k
you found out on the first date how confident in himself lando was. you knew (and liked) how he was just unapologetically himself at every point in time. it was definitely a green flag of yours. only sometimes it was a little much to handle.
this next date lando had been very traditional, seeing as it was your second date. he had decided to take you to one of his favourite restaurants in monaco. he left you with very strict instructions over text, the day before, to dress as fancy as you possibly could. so you did just that and went last minute dress shopping with your friend. it all being her idea of course.
she finds this lovely blush pink dress that in her words “is just so you” so you get it and wear it to dinner.
lando was already at the restaurant waiting outside for you. he had offered to pick you up but your friend wanted to stay and help you get ready, you didn’t agree easily though. you’ve never seen anyone’s mouth drop open as quickly as you seen lando’s open when you got out of your friend’s car. this, obviously, brings a bright red blush to your cheeks, complimenting the dress even more in lando’s opinion.
“hi.” you mumble, shyly. not used to a gaze as piercing as lando’s.
“hey, pretty girl! don’t you look stunning?” lando grins happily as he addresses you with such lovely pet names with such ease it makes you melt. he sticks a hand out to link it with yours then holds them both high above your head. “give me a spin then, honey.”
you do as he asks and spin around, showing him every angle. when you face lando again his smile seems to be even bigger than when you first came, if that was even possible. it looked like it was sore with how hard he was smiling.
“god, now i feel underdressed. when i said fancy i didn’t mean princess of monaco fancy!” lando jokes. you know it’s a joke, a compliment even. a lovely, sweet compliment. and if you were a normal girl, you would’ve giggled sweetly and thanked him, then you would both be on your way to sit down. but you weren’t a ‘normal’ girl. you were a bit shyer than most. so instead you avoid eye contact with lando and splutter out what could be picked together to make some sort of thank you.
even though it’s the second date, lando seems to understand you already and instead of pointing out your embarrassment, he pushes it to the side and holds his arm out for you to hold.
“c’mon, let’s go inside. you must be starving. i heard that beauty makes you hungry.” you were not surviving this. where was this lando on the first date?
the waiter helps you both find your table, which of course has the most gorgeous view of the water. you sit across from each other and sit in a comfortable silence, scanning the menu’s. your eyes dart across, reading all these dishes, none of them too fancy. another thing for you to be shy about, was the fact that you were an extremely picky eater. you were very wary of restaurant or even food related dates to begin with, but lando is a very difficult person to say no to.
“d’you know what’re getting?” lando asks from across the table. you think he’s been staring at you for a while.
“i’m not sure yet.” you reply, a little quieter than lando, still loud enough to hear over the usual bustle of a restaurant. you tell him this in the hopes he doesn’t ask about your food preferences.
it’s like lando can read your mind though as he asks. “are you alright? do you not like any of the food? we can go somewhere else if you like?” the way he switches from flirty to caring in seconds makes your head spin.
“no! no. you went through all this trouble to come here. and it’s your favourite restaurant.” you refuse his sweet offers.
“so you don’t like any of the food? are you a picky eater?” lando asks, the smile returning to his almost as quickly as it left. his voice not menacing or teasing as he asks you the dreaded question.
you can feel your body heat up at the question, and before you can even try and scramble your brain for an answer, probably denying it lando speaks up.
“if you are it’s okay, honey. i can ask the waiter for anything you want. even if i wasn’t a regular here, i’m sure they would do it for a girl as pretty as you.” and he was right back into that flirty ways from before.
“right,” you nod, purposefully ignoring his compliment. “thank you. i know it’s childish but i only really eat chicken.” you try to joke about it but it comes out awkward and forced. lando laughs anyway.
you both make small talk until with waiter comes back to take your orders. lando doesn’t even give you a chance to speak to the waiter to try and explain yourself before he’s asking if you could get some chicken nuggets and fries. the waiter nods, like it’s no problem. because it isn’t.
“and to drink?” the waiter asks.
lando shifts his gaze to you. his eyes wandering yours, wondering if you were alright to speak to the waiter and order for yourself.
“d’you like wine too, honey? or we could just have water?” lando offers, trying to help you out, which you appreciate so much.
“water is good, please.” you ask politely.
“two glasses of water of us then!” lando tells the waiter as the menu’s are collected and the orders are given to the kitchen.
you wait until you know the waiter is gone before you speak to lando.
“you didn’t need to get water if you didn’t want to. you could’ve gotten wine.” your thumbs dance with each other on top of the table. lando’s reach across to pull them apart from each other and hold them in his own, thumbs swiping gently across your soft skin.
“i know. i just wanted to get what you got. makes you like me more if we like the same things.” lando teases. you laugh a little and it looks like someone has just told lando he’s won his first championship.
“i’m thinking of becoming a comedian. i’m going to quit racing.” he tells you. the conversation switch gives you whiplash.
“what, really? why? i don’t think you should quit. you’re really good.” you try to compliment him back. the boy’s cheesy grin is the greatest payment for that moment of bravery.
“i’m gonna quit so i can make you laugh every minute of every day because your laugh is my new favourite sound in the whole world.” how does he even think of this shit, you think to yourself, through a wide smile and rosy cheeks (once again.)
you both chat away throughout the dinner. lando sending about a million and a half flirty comments and pet names throughout, each one sending you into a tizzy every time. lando just watches your cheeks warm and that shy smile grace your lips.
once you both had ate and payed the bill, lando suggests just walking around for a while.
“basic, i know. i don’t think any date idea could compare to how wonderful you are.” he sighs, jokingly as if his idea actually pained him. of course this causes you to fluster again and hide your face.
lando only laughs and grabs your hand, taking you a walk along the water. you open up to him, more than the previous dates and late night texts. the boy is quiet as you talk, telling him about your childhood and what it was like for you growing up. he asks you questions seeing the way yours eyes twinkle underneath the stars as you perk up even more at the mention of your childhood dog.
“you’re so pretty, honey.” lando admits in a hushed whisper, like it was a secret he was scared to tell and not a sentence he’s said about a hundred times tonight. you both had stopped at a nearby bench to watch the ocean.
before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed he asks “can i kiss you? please?”. and he sounds desperate, like you’re depriving him of the air he needs so badly to breathe properly.
so you nod your head shyly. lando’s hands are quick to trap your head in between them, holding you still as he leans in. this is yours and lando’s first kiss together and lando kisses you like you’ll break if he touches you any harsher. it’s the sweetest thing a boy has ever done in your entire life.
you tell him so once he’s reluctantly pulled away from you. his brows raise in surprise.
“guess i’m just gonna need to top this every date we go on then.” he leans in again because there’s no way he’s not using his free time with you now not kissing you. plus he just loves to see you flustered every time he pulls away.
and that was only the second date.
by the fifth date you had just about gotten your embarrassment under wraps when lando invites you to some mclaren event. he tells you it’s fancy dress but not to go dress shopping again as he’s gotten a tie that matches so well with the dress you wore on your second date. your surprised he remembered the exactly colour because when he turns up at you door, the shade match is perfect.
your halfway through the lovely charity event and lando has not stopped touching you the entire night. even when he has to stop to talk to his teammate, oscar or his team principal, andrea, he had his arm wrapped around your waist or resting on the small of your back. the feeling of his hand resting on your back made you feel like you were his.
you don’t talk much compared to lando, who yaps away all night. his number one topic of conversation being you. he talked about how you met to some random couple he’s never seen before. he rambled about how pretty you were to mclaren’s very own ceo, zak brown. you’re cheeks stay red the entire time, zak leaving after about ten minutes because he felt sorry for you and your embarrassment.
“how you doing, honey? you alright?” lando asks as he joins you at the bar. he’s been pulled away and promised you he’s join you in ten minutes. his hands snaking around your waist, their home for the night it seems.
“yeah, oscar and lily are lovely.” you smile at lando. “thank you for inviting me.”
lando beams back at you. “couldn’t do tonight without my girl, could i?”.
“your girl?” you ask shyly.
“if you wanna be” lando tried to ask casual but he genuinely thinks that if you don’t say yes, he would cry himself to sleep for the rest of the year.
you wrap your arms around him and hide in his chest. “my shy girl, hm?” lando mumbles into your hair.
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shotmrmiller · 9 months
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Needs must II
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Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader
WC: 1.9k
TW: unprotected p in v and smut + jealous Simon
It’s been months since you started your business arrangement with Ghost. Once a month, he’d test your very limits with a different kink of your choice. The sex was fantastic, and the way he treated you as if you were the only woman for him like he had feelings for you, had your heart soaring. He would sometimes even stay the night, and leave in the morning. 
It was only a matter of time before your dream came crashing down.
You texted him one day, asking if he was available for a work dinner as your plus one, and he responded that he couldn’t. I’m not available that weekend, he had said. How naive you were, thinking that maybe he had some friends to meet up with or something.
 I’ve got a couple of clients to meet. 
Silly little you, with your heart on your sleeve, asked him if he couldn’t cancel or postpone, that he didn’t need to have sex with you. 
This is my job, lovie. 
Just like that, your illusion shattered. His job, his job, his job. It’s all you were. All the lingering touches, the whispered words in your ear as he fucked you dumb with every sensual roll of his hips. A bloody job. Your tears welled up slowly but refused to fall. It’s your delusion that had led you here, heart aching over an escort. You were a big girl. You’d get over it.
Well, do you know someone else that can accompany me?
And that’s how you ended up with Johnny. He was beautiful, to say the least. Something out of a magazine. Twinkling blue eyes, straight white teeth with a mohawk, and a devastating roguish smile. 
“Name’s Johnny, hen. Ghost didnae tell me ye were such a bonnie lass,” and he raked his eyes from your toes, up, taking in your evening outfit. “I can see why he kept ye all to himself.” Your chest hurt at that. 
“Cute, Johnny. Adorable. Let’s get going, the less time I’m there, the better.” He moves to hang your purse over his shoulder, tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, and shoots you a grin. 
“As my bonnie wishes.” You ignore how warm your cheeks feel with the way he looks at you. It’s just his job, after all.
You stumbled as your heel got caught on the rug in your bedroom, giggling into Johnny’s mouth as you fell back on the bed. The alcohol in your system had you feeling fuzzy, and your core throbbed just by feeling Johnny’s tongue entangle with yours. You truly hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but since he’s already here, and you’re feeling a bit melancholic, you might as well enjoy his company. You’ve paid for it, after all.
“A-ah,  Johnny, you’re gonna—” you pause to moan when he moves his lips down your neck and sucks on the delicate skin below your ear. 
“I’m gonna what, hen? Ye dinnae wanna see me on ye come mornin’?” he sucked a little harder and trailed nips down the column of your throat, sucking another bite by your collarbone. “Lift that dress up, hen, I wanna see those colorful knickers ye’ve been teasing me with all night.” 
You grasp the hem of your dress and raise it until your clothed core is exposed. He gazes down at you, his eyes taking in the obnoxious pink, sheer fabric. “Lookit tha’. I can see your wet slit, dripping just f’me, eh?” he lowers himself onto his knees, crystal blue eyes glued to your pussy. You dig your heels into your bed and raise your hips, intent on taking them off when Johnny stops you. “Leave it on. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy over these cute little knickers,” licking a broad stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit. 
“God,” you whimpered as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, then gives your bud one firm kiss, and another, before pulling away. 
“Not god, sweets, it’s Johnny.” He moves the gusset to the side, just enough to push in one thick finger, and then two, curling and pushing— intent on finding your sweet spot, all while continuously tonguing your clit. 
You sit up to grab the back of his head, grinding your hips against his mouth, and open your eyes. His heavy-lidded gaze is penetrating— blue eyes glowing in contrast to the dark colour of his eyelashes.
His fingers push into your front wall, stroking you so perfectly, and he flattens his tongue. You let out short, ragged gasps at the coil threatening to snap inside of you. Just a little more, s’all you need. 
“Johnny…” you keen, and it’s like he senses that you need a push because he encircles your clit with his lips over your knickers and sucks. 
Screaming your climax, your body curls in on itself, almost crushing Johnny’s head with your thighs from the force of your orgasm. Johnny feels your clit throbbing, pulsing, and he is so good because he doesn’t stop sucking on it, prolonging your intense pleasure. 
Releasing him from your leg prison, you fall back limp, your vision hazy as if you’re looking at a dream sequence in a movie. 
“Ye ok, bonnie?” and the uh-huh that slips out of your mouth must sound as stupid as it did to you because he lets out a low chuckle. 
“Well, because ye told me it was supposed to only be a date, I didnae bring any condoms.”  Sluggishly, you point at your nightstand.
“I’ve got some.” You close your eyes for a second, taking in steady, calming breaths, trying to gather your wits when he breaks the silence of the room. 
“Ach, these are latex. I’m allergic to latex, sweets.” Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling to weigh out your choices. You can’t let him leave until he fucks you into the mattress so hard you become one with it. Damn the alcohol for making you so horny, your inhibitions are lowered. Or maybe Johnny did this to you.
“I figure you’re clean?” 
“‘Course, hen. It’d be really bad f’business to not be.” 
With a conceding sigh, you nod, taking off your heels. "Right. Then get over here and fuck me.”
You hear him take off his clothes, “Lie back, hands on the headboard, if ye would.” 
Grabbing on, he crawls to you and swipes the head of his cock on your sopping cunt, pulling a hiss from behind your teeth. “Lookit tha’. Greedy cunt is ready f’me.” And to prove just how greedy you are, you spread your legs wider, silently begging for him to take you. And he does. Inch by devastating inch, his thick cock stretches you, to the point of stinging pain, and it must’ve reflected on your face because he leans forward to kiss you, and whispers against your lips, “ooh, big stretch, bonnie. Take a breath f’me,” slowly pushing forward until he’s completely sheathed within you.
He waits a bit, kissing you as you get used to him. “Y’ready f’me? I’m gonna fuck ye so good, yer gonna think of me when ye touch yerself.” When you don’t say anything, he raises himself up with one arm, using the other hand to give you a light tap on your cheek. “Y’hear me?” This time you jerkily nod. “Good.” He rises to his haunches and presses your thighs to your chest, your feet flat against his strong chest. He pushes back in, this time grinding his hips into you, before starting an unrelenting, punishing rhythm. The wails you let out were that of a dying animal, but you couldn’t care less. Johnny was hitting the right spot over and over, bringing tears to your eyes. “F-fuck, oh, I—ah,” and then he canted his hips to catch your clit with every thrust. 
You felt the fire of an oncoming orgasm in your belly, and you moved your hands from the headboard to claw at his sides, nails digging into his obliques. Your toes curled into his chest, fingers scratching welts downward as your peak slammed into you with the strength of a battering ram. 
“Oh my godddd, please! Oh fuck please please don’t stop!” and you heard the cruel laugh Johnny let out in response to your begging. 
“As if anyone could stop me,” your walls flutter around his cock, and he growls, “Go on then, bonnie,” and starts pounding into you at a bruising pace, “Give me my reward.”
You scream, again, as you come, almost crying at the incredible bliss of it slamming into your body. If you weren’t having such an out-of-body experience, you'd’ve heard Johnny grunt through clenched teeth at how jealous Ghost is gonna be.
Going completely limp, you drop your head back and look at Johnny, who’s intently watching you.
“Ye good, sweets?” and you give the barest nod. “A’right. I’m gonna finish, okay?” and he starts thrusting again, and that you’re so sensitive, it borders pain. You grab his shoulders to pull him into an embrace and start sucking on his neck. “Oh, f-fuck, bite me.” 
His cock inside you swells, impossibly hard, and you use a good amount of strength to bite the meat on his neck and shoulder— bringing him to his peak. He groans loudly into your ear as he thrusts, releasing thick gooey white, coating your walls and womb. 
Pulling his softening length out of you, he lies down next to you as he catches his breath. After a couple of minutes, he brings himself up on his elbow and grabs your face, giving you a toe-curling kiss you moan into. 
“Same time, next month?” and you nod against his lips. Maybe it was time to move on from Ghost, for your own sake.
—--
The next day, Johnny and Simon are at the gym working out, when Johnny lifts his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and Simon notices the scratches on his sides.
“What’d ya fight that has your sides lookin’ like tha’, Johnny?” he says chuckling. 
“Nae. Yer kitten’s got claws on her. Not tha’ I mind but she jus’ about tore me open.” 
Simon’s smile is wiped from his face at what Johnny just said. “What kitten?”
“Yer girl, who else?” 
He slowly turns to face Johnny, brows furrowed and eyes hard, like stone. “Ya fuck ‘er?” 
Johnny looks at him. “Surprise, surprise. An escort fucking his client. Quick, make it a headline.” Then shrugs. “Jus’ business, Simon,” he pauses, “Although, I understand why she’s got you so pussy whipped.” 
Simon grins at him, and asks, “Was she good?” and Johnny grins back. “Fuckin’ delicious. Now let’s finish this, I’m tryna eat.”
Simon grips his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white as he stares at his phone.
You fuck Johnny?
It IS his job, isn’t it?
Your text was a blow, right below the belt. He doesn’t know why you sleeping with someone else stings— at least it was Johnny, but this puts things into perspective. He can’t let you go.
It’s time to give this up. And he texts Johnny exactly that. 
And if she doesn’t want a whore?
Simon lets out a deep, shuddering sigh. 
Then she says no. 
But what Johnny doesn’t know is that he isn’t taking no for an answer. You’re his, now. And no one is going to take you from him.
A/N: I wrote a lot for the smut but ended up leaving it out for our boi, Simon. He's out for blood. Turning it into Ghoap too because i'm not free of those shackles just yet.
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peachsukii · 6 months
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₊✩‧₊ ⇢ birthday boy yuuji!
『 ♡ 』 yuuji x fem!reader (18+ under the cut!) -`✧ yuuji itadori masterlist
✩ you wake yuuji up right at 12:01am by smothering him in kisses and softly singing happy birthday, his sleepy giggles filling your bedroom as he's mumbling "aw thank you baby!"
✩ when the morning comes, he's greeted with an entire living room full of pink and gold balloons accompanying the biggest bouquet of pink roses and tulips that he's ever seen. he didn't even know that you knew he loved flowers! (he literally stops to take pictures of every single flower you pass by - how could you not know?)
✩ you spoil him with a mountain of fresh pancakes for breakfast, topped with all the sweets he desires. you're not shocked that he devours at least 3 whole stacks himself, whipped cream and syrup covering his toothy smile.
✩ megumi and nobara text you throughout the day to keep you posted on the status of his surprise party, giving you the signal to bring him by when they're ready.
✩ yuuji is completely shocked when you stroll into the park and surprise him with all of his friends! streamers hung up between pavilions, buffets of snacks and cakes, presents stacked on a table in the corner and plenty of warm smiles from his found-family. he's teary-eyed when they all yell "happy birthday yuuji!" in unison.
✩ yuuji is nothing but smiles all day long as you snap endless pictures of him with everyone - your favorite being nobara and megumi smearing icing all over his cute cheeks while singing happy birthday. they all had silly party hats on and smiles brighter than the sun.
✩ after cleaning up the party, you have a few more presents hidden up your sleeve for yuuji when you get home - he's oblivious to it all.
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✩ when you return home together, you ask him to go start running a bath. he doesn't ask questions, just obeys your simple request. once it's full, you can't help but playfully pull him in with you - fully clothed - soaking you both water and bubbles.
✩ wet clothes are stripped from your bodies in succession, relaxing in the warmth of the bath together. you wash his back and hair for him, refusing to let him lift a finger on his special day. he accepts, blissfully enjoying all of your pampering with a smile.
✩ it doesn't take long for him to start quietly panting with need as you massage his whole body from behind, tracing your fingers over and working every muscle you could get your hands on. his hands grip at the plush of your thighs under the water, head rolled back against the top of your breast with his eyes closed. he gasps each time you "accidentally" let your hand brush against the tip of his semi-hard cock.
✩ when you kiss him from above, his cheeks are rosy - enamored with all the tender love you've served to him throughout the day. he turns and picks you up out of the bath, wrapping a towel around the two of you as you make out against the bathroom counter, dripping wet. the kisses are sweet and sloppy, tongues tangling as both of your hands roam each other's bodies. you can still taste the birthday cake on his tongue.
✩ you finally have enough willpower to part from his kisses - long enough to scoot out of the bathroom with a wink and telling him to stay put. he wraps the towel around his waist, attempting to mask his excitement through the tented fabric while he patiently waits for you.
✩ "come and get it, birthday boy!" you call from your shared bedroom. he makes his way down the hall and can smell a multitude of different candles, light flickering against the bedsheets as he sees you splayed out in his favorite pink lingerie set. "you have one more present to unwrap, better hurry."
✩ and by hurry, you mean "treat me like an all you can eat buffet." so he does - sweet and purposeful. he doesn't bother to remove the lingerie from your body, preferring to work around it because it just looks too pretty on you to go to waste. he sucks your nipples and massages your clit through the mesh fabric, loving how it soaks up every drop of your slick to tease himself. he dips his tongue in and out of you between orgasms, drinking up all of your arousal like honey off a spoon.
✩ he doesn't fuck you until you've given him at least two full orgasms, relishing in all the pretty moans and sounds you make for him. and when he does? it's full of love, soft and slow, the drenched mesh panties pulled to the side as they massage his shaft every time he thrusts in and out of you.
✩ between his own moans, he can't help but keep saying "i love you" against your lips, thanking you for being such an angel to him, and how much he adores you. it warms your heart as you melt into him like ice cream on a hot summer sidewalk.
⋆ ˚ʚɞ — happiest of birthdays to one of the sweetest angel protags!! shoujo-coded baby who's forced to shonen. he deserves the world! happy birthday yuuji~ this one's for you both @kweenkatsuki-fics & @yuujispinkhair 💖🎀
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55sturn · 6 months
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✮ DEALER!CHRIS WHO… / HEADCANONS
once again inspired by the lovely anna’s [@worldlxvlys] dealer w/ benefits!chris series and the lovely isla’s [@gamermattsgf] sour diesel!
DEALER!CHRIS who always has sour candy on standby when he knows his favourite customer is stopping by.
DEALER!CHRIS who brings a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts to the coffee table when she spends the night, making sure to lend her something comfy to wear.
DEALER!CHRIS who goes commando when he knows she’s gonna come by because it gives easier access.
DEALER!CHRIS who makes sure to always keep sour diesel around knowing she gets extremely horny and submissive when she smokes it.
DEALER!CHRIS who always has her favourite drink stocked up because she gets the worst pasties when she smokes
DEALER!CHRIS who can’t get enough of her obedience when she’s high, wanting to do everything she can to please him.
DEALER!CHRIS who lets her measure out grams and baggies for his deals later on because he loves watching the way her tongue peaks out her plump, pink lips when she concentrates.
DEALER!CHRIS who always buys cherry flavoured rolling papers because it tastes like her lipgloss and he can’t get enough of the taste.
DEALER!CHRIS who spends hours laying between her thighs, whether cuddling her or making her scream his name for as long as she’ll let him.
DEALER!CHRIS who will leave in the middle of a deal the minute she texts him that some creep won’t leave her alone.
DEALER!CHRIS who keeps steals a pair of her orange panties after she spent the night and keeps them for nights she can’t stay.
DEALER!CHRIS who loves her surprised squeals when he gets rough because he’s normally so tame when he’s high.
DEALER!CHRIS who bends her over every surface in his apartment, tainting the place with memories of the way that only he can make her feel.
DEALER!CHRIS who very rarely acts submissively but gets so excited when he see the commanding stare she gives him.
DEALER!CHRIS who sits her in his lap and lets her roll the first joint, his hands tracing shapes along her skin.
DEALER!CHRIS who insists they shotgun the first hit and won’t let her light the joint until she agrees.
DEALER!CHRIS who has playboy style posters of his favourite customer all over his bedroom walls.
DEALER!CHRIS who has a billion pink, yellow, and red lighters with playboy stickers all over them and refuses to let his friends touch them.
DEALER!CHRIS who doesn’t let her go on deals with him because he doesn’t want any of his other customers anywhere near her because some of them are freaks, and especially because he deals heavier shit sometimes and he doesn’t want her anywhere near that shit.
DEALER!CHRIS who always has a blanket and a change of clothes for her in the backseat when he picks her up because they always stop and get high on late night drives.
DEALER!CHRIS who gets her to ride his thigh while they share their second joint of the night.
DEALER!CHRIS who stops selling to any other girls the moment she expresses she wants more out of their weird in-between relationship, and he gives her exactly what she wants without hesitation.
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taglist: @worldlxvlys @sturnioloshacker @33sturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @thugpugs4lrh @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi i @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby @whatrulookingat11 @kqyslyho3 @hysteria-things [TAGLIST IS FULL!]
© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]
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knavesflames · 2 months
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since we are both sick in the head, i request biker arle headcanons (both sfw and nsfw)
oouuhhh thinking about biker arle who looks all intimidating and has tattoos showing up to your doorstep with flowers and melts when shes around you
im gonna throw up
thankyouiloveyoubyee
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We truly are sick in the head. Literally what is it about this woman that has us in such a chokehold actually it’s so stupid but UGH. I have not once simped over a fictional woman as hard as this. Anyway, screaming, crying, throwing up at the thought of her
Anyone notice the references to a couple people in server?
Word count: 1159
Contents: fluff, soft arle, she’s scary but she’s not
Fluff utc!
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Arlecchino. Everyone knows her. Who wouldn’t know the biker filled with tattoos, going around cursing like a sailor and never being seen without that stupid motorbike? She’s scary, intimidating. Even the grown adults shy away when they hear the familiar engine from afar, or refuse to look at her when she grumbles out that she wants to buy coffee. Even the store owner who supplies her parts for her bike and accessories for her stumbles over his words when she says she wants a new helmet. This one just doesn’t make her hair look nice when she takes it off, she says. The store owner is too intimidated to correct her, and tell her that it is not, in fact, the helmet’s fault.
The people in town also seem to be a little wary around you, too. They seem to know that if they say the wrong thing, or cause your face to fall or crumple, or cause tears to fall from your pretty eyes, that they’ll soon be facing the wrath of Arlecchino. Nobody seems to understand how you managed to break through her walls, how someone like you, so opposite Arlecchino, has her melting. Everyone sees it. Do they comment on it? Do they want to face her piercing glare, and whatever else she would do? Not a chance. It’s a little comical, though, seeing someone so tough looking, waiting outside of a store holding your cat, holding her in her arms while she feeds it treats every so often, going so far as to buy and place a bandana around her neck to surprise you. She does this all with a straight face, of course. It’s second nature to her, she’ll do anything for that smile of yours, the same smile that makes her feel like her insides have been set ablaze, makes her feel like a blushing teenager all over again.
You yourself think it’s adorable. Walking out of the store to see her holding your beloved cat (you joke that the cat is more important than her to see her pout) (you reassure her straight after that they’re on the same level, just to watch her pale cheeks flush a light pink). In reality, she makes you melt just as much. You have to hide the grin forming on your face when she speaks to you in that stoic voice she always has.
“Look. She looks dashing, I think. Matches my bike. I should get her a helmet.. I will ask someone to custom make one, I can take her on rides.” You cut her off immediately with an “absolutely not. My cat is not riding on a motorcycle.”
“Oh. Okay. I am still getting her a helmet. I want us to match.” She responds, her face completely blank, which makes everything funnier. You stand on your toes to kiss her cheek, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes widen. “My two favourite beings staying safe, wonderful.”
Even the notion that she’s one of your favourite things has her turning on her heel to conceal the ever growing blush on her face. She finds herself blushing often when she’s around you, she realises. She realises also that her words falter when you tell her to not speed, to make sure she’s wearing the correct material, that no, she doesn’t need to try and look sexy, that you find her the sexiest when she’s wearing the correct things.
She’s out riding for longer than usual, this time. The evening is dragging on, and she ALWAYS texts you when she’s home. She knows how you worry.
She is, actually, finished with her evening ride. Riding her bike as the sun sets is freeing for her. She likes to picture all of the negative shit being left in the wind as she drives. This evening, however, she drove past a field. A field decorated with different wild flowers she just knows you’d love. So, she slows to a stop, parking her bike in a way she knows won’t get it damaged. Her bike is her prized possession, second to you. She wades through the flowers, finding the best ones, slicing the stalk with her nails, the ones she kept long and not filed blunt (for your sake, of course). She grumbles to herself when the ovule gets under her nails. Once she deems the small bouquet good enough, she drives to you. Stopping just a little ways from you, she ties her boot lace around the stalks of the flowers, tying a clumsy bow. Arlecchino being Arlecchino, fixes herself as best as she can before she finds her feet moving towards your door.
When you rush to open the door after hearing her familiar knocking pattern, your own words falter for once. There she is. Stood in that shirt she KNOWS shows off her arms and the tattoos she knows you love, stood in those jeans she and you know all too well shows off her ass. She’s caught you staring, it’s the reason she wears them. And in her hand sits a messy, slightly wilted bouquet of flowers, clearly handpicked, hand cut (or rather, nail cut, you can see the residue under her nails), tied clumsily with a boot lace of all things.
“Here,” she mutters, “I thought you’d like these. Sorry they’re all.. weird.” You’re silent for a few seconds before she speaks again, a little defeat in her tone as she glances away, a sad frown twisting at her features despite her attempting to hide it. “Never mind. It was stupid. They’re ugly now, anyway. Have a good night.”
She goes to turn, but your hand shoots out and wraps around her bicep before she can leave. “Stop it. I love them. I don’t know what to say because you’re so.. adorable.”
“I’m what.” Her voice almost sounds shocked, if it wasn’t for the rough attempt at stoicism. She never thought she’d be called adorable in her life. She’s not meant to be adorable. She doesn’t want to be adorable. Her insides say otherwise, when she sees your soft eyes, filled with small tears, and your eyebrows furrowed in a look of pure adoration. You snatch the flowers before she can take them away, immediately walking into your home and placing them in a vase in the middle of your living room. She watches, straight faced, no indication of her feelings until she huffs, her face bright red.
“Turn on the air condition. It’s fucking hot in here. Where’s that kitty of yours, I want to see if she liked the fox toy I bought her.”
You look at her once more, a giggle rising in your throat as you tilt your head towards the cat tower, your eyes following as she moves towards it. You realise just how much you love this woman. At the same time, she realises she probably wants to spend her life with you, if you’d let her.
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seeingivy · 1 year
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family rules 
satoru gojo x f! reader 
**read the other one’s here
in which a horrible fight, an even worse accident, and a few injuries leads to you, satoru, megumi, and tsumiki creating some family rules  
Megumi sits across from you on the counter, his eyes narrowing at the ground, as you press a pack of frozen peas into his eye. He winces at the contact, his eye still swelling into a brilliant shade of purple. 
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid.” you whisper. 
His head remains low, refusing to meet your eye. After his fourth fight of the month, you feel helpless with where you stand with him, unsure how you can help him regulate how he’s feeling. You knew violence was an easy outlet for him, something you’re sure you had Toji to thank for, but you still tried to get him to change his ways, at least a little bit. 
Satoru’s approach, however, was squandering any efforts you were trying to make. The first time Megumi got into a fight, Satoru was positively pissed, not because Megumi punched a classmate, but because he didn’t place his thumb inside his fist. It was very infuriating for him to find out his kid couldn’t punch the right way. 
The second and third fights were hardly any different, Satoru majorly concerned with whether or not Megumi won, or if he hurled any insults while fighting, rather than actually reprimanding him. You knew Satoru could be immature, like a gangly man-child at times, but you were growing frustrated with his carefree nature as of late. 
At the end of the day, the two of you were responsible for Megumi. Tsumiki was easier in that sense, more receptive to the help you gave her. Slowly but surely, she had been coming out of her shell, coming to you and Satoru for help when she needed it. But Megumi was a stone cold rock, stubborn as they come. A blazing ball of anger. 
You hear Satoru’s key jam into the door, ready to brace yourself for the talk you wanted to have with Megumi. You had texted Satoru earlier in the day, letting him know that Megumi had gotten into another fight and the two of you needed to have a talk from him. 
He pads into the kitchen, a pale pink box resting in his hands. He places the box on the counter, pressing a swift kiss to your head and then Megumi’s. As he raids through the fridge, you open the box out of curiosity and feel your blood boiling. The cake says congratulations megumi in pale blue frosting. 
“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs for a minute? I need to speak with Gojo over here.” you say, straining a smile at him. 
Both Megumi and Satoru’s eyes widen, the use of his last name signaling to Megumi that he should leave while he still can. Megumi stalks away, taking his bag of frozen peas with him. 
“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?” you say, clenching your fists in efforts to stay calm. 
“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he says, pressing a consolation kiss to your cheek as he sets out plates for dinner. 
You cross your hands over your chest, absolutely livid with him. How can he be so calm about this?  
“Satoru, be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.” you say, turning towards him.  
He turns to face you, clearly frustrated with your insistence. You knew he thought you were a little bit of a stickler, the complete opposite of his carefree nature, but he usually loved you for it. However, your differences came with butting heads often, especially when it came to Tsumiki and Megumi. 
“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you tell him to keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.” he states, crossing his arms across his chest. Childish, even during a fight. 
“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.” you respond, clenching your fists so hard you’re sure you’ve drawn blood.  
“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.” 
He waits for a response, his eyes still boring into yours. You don’t bite back, but instead turn around to face the door, the tears welling in your eyes. 
“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?” he says. 
“No, I don’t.” you bite back, bitterness evident in your voice. 
“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.” 
“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?” you spit back, turning to him with your tear filled eyes. 
As much as you can care for Megumi, he’s right. Tsumiki and Megumi are technically his kids, you’re just his girlfriend who happened to stick around once they arrived. And as much as you can care and love the two of them, that doesn’t earn you a place in their family. 
You feel Satoru’s fingers crawl around your wrist, his face softer than it was minutes ago. 
“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.” 
You shrug his wrist off, grab your keys, and run out the door. There’s no point in staying somewhere you don’t belong in the first place. 
 - 
You ignore Satoru for a few hours, currently eating ramen on a very annoyed Shoko’s couch. Nanami was here as well, having been around helping her hang some paintings in her room. You feel your phone buzzing on the other side of the couch, sure it’s Satoru spam calling you after you had been ignoring his texts.
He had been texting periodically every thirty minutes, but had resorted to calling for the past ten. Shoko thinks you should slap him once, set him straight for good. Nanami thinks the two of you should talk it out, maybe explain where you’re both coming from. 
You choose to ignore both of their advice, opting to watch Ten Things I Hate About You and diminish Shoko’s ramen supplies one bowl at a time instead. 
Shoko runs into the room, followed shortly by Nanami, who has a phone pressed to his ear. They’re both rushing around the room, putting on their shoes and shoving random items into a bag.
“Y/N, get up. Right now! We have to go.” says Shoko, placing your shoes in front of you as you still pace the room. 
You stand up, moving slowly for your shoes. They’re both still rushing around you, filling the backpack with an extra pair of clothes and the entire bunch of bananas sitting at the counter. 
“Where are we going?” 
They seemed to have missed the question you had just asked. Shoko nearly falls rushing upstairs to grab something, a sense of urgency present in the two of them as they move around you. 
“Do you know Megumi’s blood type?” says Nanami, as he hands you a hoodie to wear. 
“His blood type? Why do you need his blood type?” you say, pulling his hoodie on. 
“Satoru and Megumi. They got into a car accident. They’re both at the hospital now.” he says, your blood turning cold. 
He places his hand to your shoulder, squeezing once in support. A car accident. They both got into a car accident. You look up at Nanami, his brown eyes filled with concern. 
“O negative. His blood type is O negative.” you whisper, grabbing your phone from the couch and heading out the door with the two of them. 
As you scroll through the notifications on your phone, you realize the person calling you wasn’t Satoru, it was the hospital. You were the first emergency contact, followed directly by Nanami, who had actually picked up the phone. 
Nanami nods in response, relaying the blood type on the phone. The three of you file into the car, Shoko sitting with you in the back, her hand clasped into yours. 
“I know all the doctors there, they’re going to be just fine.” she says, securing her seatbelt on.  
You nod, twiddling with your house key in your pocket. You pull out your phone, texting Tsumiki to see where she is. Nanami had only mentioned Satoru and Megumi, the thought of her sitting all alone in a room somewhere worsening your mood all together. As you open your phone, you finally read all of Satoru’s texts, the one’s he sent after your fight. 
i’m sorry love 
you know i didn’t mean it 
just come back, you know he’s our kid 
you’re a part of our family 
i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents 
not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him like you wanted. just come back y/n. 
kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already 
we’re coming to get you. 
You drop your phone onto the floor of the car, the tears flowing freely now. They were coming to get you. You’re the reason they were in that car in the first place. 
Shoko places a hand to your back, directing you to calm your breathing as you enter the parking lot. Nanami parks the car and you’re rolling out of the car, your feet dragging you the doors of the Emergency Department. 
As you enter the waiting room, you spot Tsumiki sitting on the chair alone, her cheeks pink from crying. You run over to her, crushing her in your embrace. You feel her cry against you, separating to check she wasn’t injured. 
“The blood, it’s not mine. It’s Satoru’s.” she says, hiccuping in between her words from crying. 
You feel a tightness in your chest, feeling nauseous at the thought of how much blood is on her shirt. How much blood did he lose? You cross your heart that he’s still conscious at the least, so you can tell him how sorry you are for leaving in the first place. 
“Megumi?” you ask, still holding her in your arms. 
“He cut his arm, but I think they said he was going to be okay. They won’t let me in since I’m not over fourteen.” 
“That’s okay. Stay here with Auntie Shoko and Uncle Nanami. I’ll go ahead and check on them and come back okay?” you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. 
“I want to be a part of your family.” she says, her eyes colored red. You feel your heart squeeze at her words, slightly upset at yourself for even putting that idea in her mind in the first palace. 
“You are a part of my family, Miki. Me and Satoru were just having a little disagreement, that’s all.” you respond, squeezing her hand twice before heading towards the doors of the ER. 
You brace yourself, pushing the two double doors open. You see Satoru’s white hair first, lying in the bed directly across from the doors. He’s hooked up to two IV’s, his eye a brilliant purple. 
You walk in, grabbing his hand in yours. His eyes flutter open, his eyes softening at the sight of you across from him. He squeezes your hand twice, wincing as he sits up in his bed to face you. 
“If you put on a cute little nurse's uniform, we could live out one of my biggest fantasies right now.” he whispers, his hand caressing the side of your cheek. 
You laugh through your tears, cursing his idiocy in moments like this. He’s okay. He’s making perverted sex jokes while he’s in a hospital bed. He’s more than okay. You look back at him, his blue eyes staring into yours. You can feel the tears flowing out of your eyes, your neck drenched in your tears. 
“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” he says, opening his bandaged arms for you to enter his embrace. 
“Don’t do that again, ‘Toru. I thought you left me. You’re the only family I have.” you say, pressing your face against the side of his neck, taking in his familiar musky smell. 
“Excuse me little lady. You’re the one who left me. You’re the only family I have too. Can’t believe you thought otherwise for even a second.” he says, his hand running through the side of your hair. 
“You just seemed so mad. And technically, he is your kid.” 
He tightens his grip, pulling you away from his chest to look at you. 
“He’s our kid. I got mad but that’s what family does, love. We disagree, get into a fight, but come back to each other at the end. Kind of broke the rules by walking away, silly girl.” he says, his fingers poking into the soft of your cheek. 
“We don’t have any rules. But, I won’t walk away again.” you say, cupping his face in your hands. 
“Better not. I’ll crash the car again to bring you back.” 
You glare at him, squishing his face tighter in your hands. Still immature, even in a hospital bed. 
“There’s that downright horrifying glare I love.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile in response, pressing a kiss to his cheek in response. 
“Where’s Megumi?” you ask, settling back into his arms. 
“Getting stitches. I tried to join him back there, but they wouldn’t let me.” he says. 
“I’ll send Miki in to sit with you. She’s out there crying puddles. I’ll try to see if I can go in there and hold his hand.” 
He nods in response, letting go of you as you get off the bed next to him. 
You watch Tsumiki run into Satoru’s arms as soon as she enters the double doors with you. You watch him hold her close, whispering into her ear as you cross the hallway to find Megumi. 
Before you grabbed Tsumiki, Satoru had mentioned that Megumi and Tsumiki had heard parts of your fight and seemed slightly bothered by the entire ordeal together. Tsumiki’s comment from earlier suddenly made a lot more sense to you. 
You find Megumi at the end of the hallway, wincing at the doctor putting stitches in his hand. When you reach his bed, you press a kiss to the top of his head, holding his free hand in yours. Your tears have returned, the relief flooding through you that your kid is mostly still intact. 
He squeezes your hand as the doctor continues, salty tears streaming down his face. You swipe your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the wetness with your hands. 
“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, his eyes still narrowed towards the ground. 
“No. Are you mad at me?” 
“No.” 
The two of you sit in silence, your hands still pressed together as the doctor continues the stitches. You can’t help but stare, eyeing Megumi for any signs of pain as time goes on. He has a long gash running down the length of his arm, a few pieces of glass lodged near his wrist. 
“I won’t fight anymore.” 
You shoot him a weak smile, letting him lean his head against your shoulder. The two of you sit in silence for a while, with him rubbing circles into the side of your hand as the doctor finishes. You and Megumi walk out of the hallway, his arm fully bandaged, to meet Tsumiki and Satoru back outside. 
Tsumiki runs over, crushing you and Megumi into a hug. You see Satoru’s shoulders relax at the sight of Megumi, running his hands through the kid's hair as the two of you walk up to them. 
You bend down, holding the two of them in your arms, with Satoru still sitting up in his bed. 
“So I was thinking.” 
“You can do that?” responds Megumi, effectively cutting off Satoru from whatever he was saying. 
You and Tsumiki laugh in response, you ruffling his hair. You swear you can see the makings of a smile spreading across his face. 
“Since we’re a family…we have to lay down some ground rules. We never made any when we started living together. First, Tsumiki always has to do whatever I say.” 
The three of you glare at him, none of you finding his joke amusing. 
“I’m kidding, obviously. Tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You can’t punch someone every time you’re upset with them. No more fighting.” 
You smile at him, your heart beaming at his words. Megumi nods in response, agreeing to the first rule put out. 
“Second, we all stay together, no matter what. No walking away. We can argue all night for all I care, but no one walks away.” 
The three of you nod in response, agreeing again. Tsumiki speaks up this time, cutting Satoru off. 
“Three. No arguing if we can avoid it. At least not all the time anyways.” 
You and Satoru promise her you won’t fight, at least not like that again. The four of you huddle together, squeezing each other into the tightest hug known to man. 
“I have one.” says Megumi, whispering into your ears. You nod at him, telling him to speak up. 
“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.” 
Mom. Mom. Megumi just called you Mom. You stare down at him, meeting his gaze. You can see Satoru gaping at the two of you in your peripheral vision. He pushes himself further into the hug, hiding his face against Satoru’s shirt, the tips of his ears pink. You look over at Satoru, smiling at him. You can feel his pouting starting already, you knew Satoru was competitive when it came to these things. 
You hold them all close, soaking in the warmth of the three of them against you. You feel Satoru’s hand tangle with yours behind Tsumiki’s back, his forehead resting against yours. 
“Hey, fifth rule. Everyone calls me daddy from now on.” 
Megumi and Tsumiki groan in response, disgusted by his choice of words. You lightly tug at the ends of his hair, signaling him to shut up and stop ruining your first moment as a family. The four of you head out of the ER, hand in hand, with a congratulations megumi cake waiting for the four of you at home. 
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aikaterini-drag · 4 months
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Past And Present PART 3
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Summary: You think back to how you and Rafe first met and all the memories you’ve shared. You get emotional but Rafe’s always there for you.
Warnings: lots of fluff and sweet moments, soft Rafe, brother’s best friend, memories.
This belongs to the ‘Loving You Series’. Find it here.
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It was a lovely morning.
The sun streamed through the windows, warm shafts of light kissing your skin. Rafe had already left for work but since you were feeling a little nauseous you stayed home. You were in your 2nd pregnancy month, feeling lightheaded and nauseous all the time. Rafe made you a light breakfast and refused to go to his company. But you were fine and Rafe had a very important contract to negotiate that day. It took a hell of an effort to convince him to go. He insisted you take your prenatal medicine and lie in bed. You also promised to text him every fifteen minutes to reassure him.
Satisfied that you had the day to lie down and relax, you stretched lazily in bed, a small smile on your face. The nausea was fading and you lovingly rubbed your still-flat stomach. Your life felt good, precious, and joyful. You were about to marry your childhood sweetheart and were expecting your first child.
Rafe Cameron had been in your life since you were a child. He was your brother’s best friend, his presence constant in your family house.
You vividly remembered being 8 years old and Rafe being 10. You smiled at the memory. It had been a sunny afternoon and you were playing tea-time in the backyard with your dolls, completely absorbed in your own little world. Rafe was playing video games with your big brother inside, your parents were at the supermarket.
“What are you doing, little squirt?” Rafe had asked, pulling you from your game.
“Don’t call me that,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Go away.”
Rafe laughed and walked over to you, crouching down to your level. “Having a tea party, huh? That’s for babies.”
Rafe inspected your tea set and your small pink chair and table. He chucked as he held up a tiny plastic teacup. Then he picked up one of your dolls, Miss Sparkles, a new Barbie with silky long hair and a pink dress. He held it up before you could stop him.
“Hey, do you think dolls can fly?” he asked in wonder.
You frowned. “No, dolls can’t fly.”
“Wanna bet?” he grinned, and before you could protest, he tossed the doll into the air. The poor Barbie soared in the sky before landing in a mud ditch with a soft splash.
You gasped. “No! Rafe, you’re the worst!”
You ran to the mud pile and gently grabbed your doll, now covered in mud and filth.
“Hate you, hate you, hate you!” you mumbled, ready to cry.
“Nah, don’t start crying now,” Rafe ran to you, his face tight. “I didn’t mean it!”
“Why do you always ruin my stuff?” You sniffled, tears in your eyes. “You are the worst!”
“Take it back!” he said. “I just thought it would be funny!”
“Miss Sparkles is covered in mud. How is that funny?!”
Rafe sighed. “I didn’t think she’d land in the mud.”
“Well, what’s done is done now. You ruined her.”
You turned to move away, but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Eyes on you, he took your doll and rubbed it messily on his hoodie. Your eyes widened. That was his favorite hoodie, a Christmas gift from his dad. Without flinching, Rafe cleaned the face of your doll, ruining his perfectly white clothing.
“Whoa…” you muttered, your mouth going slack.
“There! Your doll’s ruined, my hoodie’s ruined too. Now stop crying.”
“You could just clean her with water, you fool,” you said, your tears stopping. “Not ruin your hoodie.”
“I had to do something! That’s what came to mind. An eye for an eye,” Rafe said, handing the doll back to you.
You dropped the doll to the ground. “Leave me alone.”
And with that, you ran into the house.
Later that day, you found your favorite Miss Sparkles outside your room, sparkling clean and in better condition than you’d ever seen her. Your doll was wet but no longer smudged, her hair untangled. A note was tucked at the bottom of the box, saying “I’m sorry”. You smiled and secretly thought that Rafe Cameron was not such a bad boy after all.
Ever since then, your interactions with Rafe grew less and less animated. When he came to visit, he was polite and discreet. He hung out with your bother a lot and you remembered the sleepovers and the late-night talks you’d overhear about the girls they liked. For some reason, you didn’t like it when Rafe talked about other girls.
Sometimes, Rafe would pick you up from school when your parent;s or brother couldn’t. You would walk together, barely talking. Rafe would buy you ice cream but you watched him warily, fearing he might prank you again. But he never did. He never pranked or teased you ever again.
And then you finally started trusting him again. You were friendly to him and you could swear his eyes lit up whenever he saw you.
It was 4 years ago when your relationship turned intimate, your feelings molding into something deep and intense.
Rafe had been 26, and he had started a small real estate company with the help of his father. And you, at 24, worked at a library and volunteered at a local history museum. The position wasn’t a large one like the prestigious museums you’d dreamed of, but you were patient.
On that sunny afternoon, you were busy setting up a new exhibit on local folklore. You’d been working non-stop and you seriously needed to take a break. As luck would have it, your phone buzzed. It was Rafe.
“Little squirt?” he teased, his voice deep and warm.
“Will you stop calling me that?” You laughed affectionately.
“It depends. What are you doing?”
“I’m at the museum.”
“Are you free for lunch?”
“Sure,” you replied, smiling. “I could use a break.”
“Wait for me. I’ll see you in twenty.”
Rafe arrived five minutes early, sauntering into the museum in his fine linen shirt and dark blue trousers. You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat or two. His blue eyes sparkled, and he looked even better than all the art around him. He’d grown into a handsome man, tall and fit, his once-boyish features now chiseled and mature.
“Rafe,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.
“Hey there, Miss curator,” he greeted, pulling you into a warm hug. You felt the firmness of his body against yours, goosebumps awakening on your while body.
“Hey yourself, Mr. CEO,” you teased back, inhaling his clean masculine scent. You wished he’d hug you more, but he stepped back.
“Let’s grab a bite, hm?”
You hummed in agreement.
You settled in your favorite Italian restaurant, sitting in a small table outside. The place was bustling. Rafe sat next to you, the seat and table a little too small for his long legs and tall frame. You secretly laughed as you watched him try to make himself comfortable but once you sat beside him, he went silent. Your thighs brushed gently as you moved. You tried not to be affected as you chatted about work and life while eating.
“How’s the new exhibit going?” Rafe asked, taking a sip of his wine.
“It’s great,” you replied. “I’m focusing on local folklore and I’m honestly amazed at how many stories and traditions are out there. I can’t wait to show it off to everyone.”
Rafe smiled, his arm casually draping over the back of your chair. “You are incredible. You’ve always been.”
“Thanks,” you said, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. “And how’s the real estate business going?”
“Pretty good so far,” he said. “We’re closing on a big deal next week. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”
You grinned. “Remember when we were kids, and you used to tease me without end?”
Rafe chuckled. “Don’t remind me.”
“You are all mature now but back then, you were such a troublemaker.” You smiled. “Yet you always made it right. Like the time you ruined your favorite hoodie to clean my Barbie doll.”
Rafe looked at you, his expression softening. He didn’t reply and you both fell into an emotionally charged silence, watching each other. His blue eyes held yours, occasionally shifting to your mouth.
His hand, the one resting on the back of your chair, moved to cup your neck. Your breathing picked up, your heart rate increasing.
“What have you done to me?” he drawled, his voice dark and silky.
“Rafe?” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. You’d done nothing.
“Want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes caressing your lips.
You swallowed hard, a little explosion going off in your head.
Rafe wanted to kiss you.
Rafe wanted to kiss you.
Rafe wanted to kiss you.
Damn… your heart was somersaulting.
You came out of your high when he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes dilated.
Before you could think rationally, you did the unexpected. You cupped his face and pressed his lips to yours. He froze for exactly one second, then moaned and responded, his moist, firm mouth claiming yours. His lips were warm and tasted faintly of the wine he’d been drinking.
The kiss started slow and thoughtful but soon turned deep, with him crushing you to his chest, the calm shattered with his tongue. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, fast and strong. He possessed your mouth, his tongue tracing the soft fullness of your lips before slipping inside. Shivers of desire raced through you as you gave yourself freely to him.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Rafe’s lips were rosy with your lipgloss, deliciously kiss-swollen. You wanted to kiss him again. Your own lips felt mumb from the heady sensation of his lips.
“Wow,” you whispered, wetting your lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he drawled, his eyes sparkling.
“Really?”
“Hmm…” His lips brushed against yours as he added, “You’ve ruined me.”
“Likewise,” you muttered in between slow kissed. “I’ve been wanting this… wasn’t sure if… if…”
His mouth covered yours hungrily.
“You’re mine.” He gazed into your eyes.
Your heart warmed. You nodded. “Only if you’ll be mine.”
“Baby, you squeezed my heart the day you cried after I ruined your doll. I thought I was just pitying you, but as I got older, it fucked me, turned into so much more.”
“So you fell first, Rafe Cameron,” you said smugly.
“Hmm… I fell hard for you, little squirt,” he said, kissing the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat.
“My brother’s going to kill you,” you said and felt his smile on your skin.
“I’ll take it. For you, I’d take anything, baby.”
And he kissed you again.
From that day on, everything changed.
He was no longer just Rafe, your brother’s best friend. He was Rafe, the man who shared your passions and dreams.
*Back to the Present*
The sound of your name being called out anxiously brought you back to the present. Wiggling on the bed, you sat up against the headboard and muttered a clear and loud, “I’m here.” Rafe dashed inside and knelt beside the bed, taking your small hands in his big ones. He was completely overwrought; his tie was askew, and he was panting, his face pale with worry.
“Rafe?”
“Hey, baby,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “I was a fool to leave you alone. I can’t focus with you being unwell. How are you, love?”
“Rafe,” tears gathered in your eyes. You struggled to hold them back but the memories of the past and seeing him now, so worried and loving, made you emotional all over again.
“Damn, damn it all,” he said, his expression going even more concerned. “I am an ass. Shouldn’t have left you.” He cupped your face and kissed you softly. “I’m here baby. What’s wrong? Should I call the doctor? We can go right n—”
“I’m fine.” You sniffled, hands clutching the lapels of his shirt. “Just emotional.”
“Emotional?”
“Hmm… I was thinking of how you teased me when we were little. And then of our first kiss at that Italian restaurant.”
“But you’re crying,” he said stubbornly. “I can’t take it, can’t take seeing you like this.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I know. It’s just… I was thinking of how good you are to me and the memories just came flooding. The tears, too.”
“Truly?” he asked tensely, a big palm spreading protectively over your stomach. “You are not unwell? The baby?”
“We are both alright. I promise. Hold me, please?”
“I’ll hold you all day and night, baby.”
Relief washing over his features, he crawls into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. He kissed away your tears and you greedily enjoyed his body’s warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your frayed nerves.
“I’m here. Always will be,” he murmured into your hair seconds before you fell into a deep, pleasurable sleep.
Reblogs, follows and any other kind of support are greatly appreciated. Sending hugs!
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leonw4nter · 8 months
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Hockeyplayer!RE2R!Leon drabbles
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Hockeyplayer!Leon who started out in high school and got the position of starting goalie. Around senior year, right before college, he made sure to do a lot better so recruits could take an interest in him and offer him a sports scholarship. Besides practicing his skills on the ice, he made sure that he did twice as well in terms of academics; he avoided going to parties and studied as much as he could, nose-deep in a text book or his notes.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who is so shy, usually stays quiet and keeps to himself in the locker rooms before a game. He occasionally butts in with a corny ass joke but he only tells Chris, the team captain who is also someone he’s grown close with. Chris encourages him to have a life outside of academics but Leon politely refuses, repeating that he has a scholarship to vie for.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who graduated at the top of his class and got accepted into his dream university, taking up aerospace engineering. Between classes and hockey, he’s having a slightly hard time juggling all his activities but he’s holding up well for someone taking a course that would make anyone want to rip their hair out. Because of his scholarship quotas he doesn’t have time for parties or to visit Chris, which he feels guilty for but Chris is understanding about it.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who was one of the Dean’s listers one time, which felt rewarding after several nights of zero sleep and a concerning reliance on Snickers and energy drinks to stay awake. He decides to take a breather for a bit and comes along with Chris to a party, where he meets hockey recruits (for some reason) )and they take interest in his abilities. He leaves that party signed under them, his future stable under a nice hockey career and a promising team. Chris teased that he’d be the nerd of the group, being the only engineering student in a room full of guys who took up sports courses but he feels relieved when Chris tells him that he’s signed up with them too (though he’s still going to be the only nerd).
Hockeyplayer!Leon who now doesn’t feel that anxious about his future outside of college but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t slack off though, still studying hard and smart. A lot of girls take interest in them and he does find them attractive but his gut tells him that they’re not the one, so he doesn’t mind. He feels a little sad with his lack of romantic experience but Chris tells him that it’ll come in its own time.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who is absolutely adored by the entire team– they come to him for help regarding math and he goes to them to proof-read his papers.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who just finished up practice with his team, sweaty and pink-faced, blond hair sticking to his forehead with strands sticking together. He takes his gear off, now only in his jersey and skates while he sits at the bleachers and hydrates. The other guys are talking but he’s keeping to himself, taking this opportunity to catch his breath and do a quick recall of everything but he hears a yelp, a feminine yelp. He looks around and sees one of the ice skaters in the rink skate over to the side, she probably tripped.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who doesn’t hesitate to get up and apologize, asking if she’s okay. She turns around and he’s met with the most beautiful woman ever, stopping him in his tracks; she had soft curves with some muscle, her hair tied into a ponytail. All of a sudden, he goes shy and forgets basic communication.
“Sorry for uh– the ice,” he apologizes. You turn around and the first thing your gaze falls on is a pair of irises that are a hue of a midwinter sky. “I’m apologizing on behalf of my team. Do you, um… need any help…?,” he shyly asks. He swears that his hummingbird heart is beating so strong and loud, the pretty skater in front of him might hear it.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who accepted it when he left the rink, acknowledging that he’ll never see you again– but that doesn’t mean he was kind of sad. He was disappointed that his low confidence and shyness got the better of him and prevented him from asking for your number, or name at least. All self-loathing goes out the window when he sees you again and you actually approach him. His cheeks and the tips of his ears turn rosy when you ask for his number, giving it to you though he has the urge to kick himself for stuttering so many times.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who soon sees you for more than your physical attractiveness; you aren't just beautiful, you make the space around you beautiful too, you affect others and bring their beauty out of them. And you do it with ease. Having a bit of muscle goes a long long way in sexual attraction. Yet she was beautiful from her heart and soul.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who gets teased about his crush, the entire team giving him knowing looks whenever you sit next to him and talk about whatever. He’s still shy but he notices himself stuttering less, much more comfortable than he previously was. His attraction is evident to everyone but you and he doesn’t want to confess because he thinks you won’t feel the same way.
“C’mon, Leon. Confess already! I’m so tired of seeing this tension fizzle out into nothing! She’s clearly into you!”
“She’s just nice, Carlos. She’s nice to everyone and that doesn’t mean she likes me, y’know.”
“She’s the nicest when it comes to you!”
“What if she feels bad for me…”
“Why would she feel bad for you? You’re awesome, man!”
“I’m quiet, a nerd, and I don’t talk much. She probably thought I’m a loner or something…”
“Not with this negative self-talk, Leon! I need you to man up and do something about this crush. I’ll help you– Chris too.”
Hockeyplayer!Leon who invited you to meals as his way of flirting, with the help of Carlos and Chris. He swears his eyes nearly popped out of his pretty head every time you agree to go on these little meal runs with him. With plenty of pep talk and encouragement from the guys, he gets you a small bouquet of flowers for the first time. His clumsy ass didn’t notice those itchy ass caterpillars crawling into his hand so for the whole time, he had to hide the redness and irritation on the back of his hand but he’s thankful you’re not the one who got an allergic reaction.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who tried to make a move and kiss you but chickened out midway for many, many times. He lies awake in his bed at night, staring into the ceiling as he recalls all the times he messed up before groaning and screaming into his pillow. You’re in his head more often than he’d like but he doesn’t mind.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who you asked out to be your plus one to your coach’s birthday celebration. He ran up to Chris and Carlos, jumping and giggling, which confused them. He ran back to his room and took his phone, showing them the text that you sent.
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Y/N
“My coach is having a birthday party this Saturday and I got invited. We can bring plus ones soo… can you be my plus one? Dw it’s fine if you got practice on Saturday and can’t come along :)))”
“Sure. I actually don’t have practice this Saturday so I’m totally free :)) What’s the dress code?”
“Smart semi-formal or business casual. Alsoo what time r you gon pick me up?? Or do you want me to be the one to pick u up-”
“I’ll pick you up an hour before the party starts, I’ll just come over to your place. Is that good?”
“YEEAHHHHH :)))) TYSMMMM”
“No problem ;) See you there”
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“Smooth bro, real smooth,” Carlos compliments. Chris is busy jumping around for Leon, pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug.
“Let us take you out on some shopping, little bro. I’m going to make sure you look dapper, fine, handsome, sexy, drippy.” Chris beams.
“Please don’t say ‘drippy’ ever again to describe how I’m going to look,” Leon sighed.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who arrives at your place 15 minutes before he’s supposed to with another bouquet of dainty flowers. Chris and Carlos asked the entire team for help to style him and they all came together visiting the shops for clothes. After several fittings and visits to many different stores, they all decided to dress him in a cream turtleneck that hugged his figure well and well-fitting navy blue trousers along with black dress shoes. They also decided to try out new hairstyles for him but none looked great so they all decided to settle on Leon’s default hairstyle. Leon felt handsome in his outfit but his insecurity was slowly seeping in but thanks to his teammates and friends, he managed to keep that feeling at bay.
Hockeyplayer!Leon whose jaw drops and world freezes when he sees you open up your door. Space and time halts in reverence for the heavenly beauty standing in front of him; whatever words were waiting at the bottom of his throat are now a jumble of letters, his mouth slightly agape with no words coming out.
“You look stunning,” he softly whispers. He doesn’t even notice the way his hands are clenched tightly around the bottom of the bouquet, his knuckles going pale.
“Very stunning.”
He ends up blushing even more when you compliment him, shimmery eyes glazing over his body and suddenly everything feels a lot more warm. His lip quivers when he puts on a smile for you when you decide to take a picture with him and you can’t stop gushing about how his clothes fit him, making a mental note to wear something like these more often before sending his thanks to the team group chat.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who has more fun than he thought he would, enjoying your company and good food. He feels some eyes on him, sizing him up and probably whispering about the plus one that a figure skater brought along but for once he doesn’t feel self-conscious because he doesn’t have attention to spare for them when you got all of it from him. When he sent you back home that day, he was so sure that he was going to kiss you but his nerves got the better of him again. Instead, he told you how much he had fun at the party and how you were good company to him before bidding you good night.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who looks good with your first kiss after you made the move and pulled him in for one on an outdoor ice skating rink as the first snowfall gently fluttered down, tiny snowflakes landing on your coats and hair. He is practically glowing with it and you swear you see your future in the twin pools of his sapphire lakes.
Hockeyplayer!Leon who was your boyfriend of three years, is now your fiancé. He got down on one knee and asked a question that would ultimately define both of your futures during the first snowfall inside your shared home. He couldn’t stop staring at the ring on your hand, proud that he managed to get it this far. Who would’ve known that someone as timid and nervous as him, who literally struggled to find the golden opportunity to kiss you would be able to do something as defining as this. He swears to stay by your side forever and in every universe and timeline; he’ll be a star in whatever constellation you’re in, the sun to your moon, he’ll be the boundless ocean that reflects the vast beauty of the sky.
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NOTE - Hi guys sorry for the inactivity lately, I've been making Valentine's Special fics for diff versions of Leon and there's about 8 of them so I don't exactly have time to post. I decided to write drabbles of RE2R!Leon based on my first fic in here so yeah :) My mom and brother also found a 4-5 week old kitten that kinda looks like a rat and we're not sure of the kitten's gender so ig I'll just update on this too (if you're interested) 😭😭. I haven't come up with names yet but I'm planning to name the kitten after video game characters. My grades for the second quarter release tomorrow and I'm so scared rn bro like I literally did NAWT do that well during the first quarter so let's hope I somehow did better in the second 😭😭😭 Anyways, thanks for reading my fics coz I rlly appreciate ittt!!!!!!!! <3333333333
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dxvxx · 5 months
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It's Exit Exam day and i'm exhausted.
The wannabe overdue acrobat in my belly kicking me for all his worth isn't helping either. I waddle out of my bathroom naked and dripping wet, not bothering with a towel, even the biggest ones stopped covering my body after the second trimester.
I rub my bump as i check my phone and send William a text reassuring him that i'm fine before i open my closet and rifle through it.
I gave up on wearing my maternity jeans a month ago, so i bypass those and pick out a pale beige sundress.
Grabbing it, i shuffle to the mirror to try to see if it would even fit me. Looking at me, you'd think i'm carrying twins with how big my bump had gotten.
I hear the faint sound of my apartment unlocking and smile when, soon after, my boyfriend strides into my bedroom, looking edible in his black slacks and black button-down shirt.
I rub my thighs, looking at his rolled up sleeves and veiny tattooed forearms.
"Babe," it comes out as a whine as i look up at him. Up, because William is a 6'5 "muscled giant of a man while i'm 5'3 and petite, or at least, i used to be petite. "I told you i'm okay." I murmur but lean back against him greedily as he hugs my naked body from behind. He lifts up the weight of my heavy belly off my hips, just the way i like, and i can't help the moan of relief that escapes. "Mmm.."
"Couldn't help myself," he rumbles, dragging his nose up my neck, right to one of my sensitive spots, breathing in my shampoo. I tilt my neck, giving him more access, letting out another soft moan as i feel myself get wet.
I rub the top of my bump just enjoying being near him, but i have to ask..."No- mhmm- one saw you, right?" Even though i know he's always careful.
William is a professor at my college. We met 2 years ago when i was in a class of his and we have been dating on the downlow ever since.
While i'm no longer a student of his, it's still frowned upon and could lead to serious trouble so we're keeping it quiet until i graduate next month.
That's why he moved me out of the dorms and is renting me an off-campus apartment near his house. Something he keeps grumbling about because 'you're not close enough.' I'm pretty sure if i let him have his way, we'd already have been married by now.
He doesn't respond as he trails kisses up and down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving me breathless and squirming "Wiiiilll" i whine.
My libido has been in overdrive ever since i got pregnant at the end of summer and had increased even more in my last trimester. The barest of touches or even friction from my clothes has me panting like a bitch in heat.
Something William takes great delight in.
"Have i told you how gorgeous you are so full and heavy with my son?" He growls while leaving hickeys on my neck. He tells me every day. William has always been possessive and overprotective, but he had doubled down ever since i started showing.
He cups my bare pussy murmuring out a rough "mine" in my ear. I'm so wet i drip a bit on his hand as i look in the mirror.
It's a sight.
My belly heavy and round, with the skin a bit pink, overstretched and taut with William's tattooed arms wrapped around it.
My heavy breasts that have doubled in size are aching with my rosy nipples pebbled, begging to be touched.
William's hardened length is nestled against my naked ass cheeks.
It's all too much.
My hips roll trying to get something, anything, but he just cups it, giving me a warning squeeze i ignore. "Don't tease mmhm meeee." i half moan half whine. That earns me a slap on my pussy. The sting shoots up straight to my needy clit and i whimper "ooh fuckk."
Two of his thick fingers tease my entrance before he thrusts them home, using his thumb to rub my clit in slow agonizing lazy circles that have me bucking against his hand desperate for more but he keeps his fingers still.
I know what he's doing, punishing me for refusing to stay home this past week, when i officially reached my due date and passed it.
I get more desperate, rolling my hips harder, trying and failing to get him moving, to give me anything. He smirks in my neck, proud of himself, and i'm close to losing it, delirious with lust and need.
"William Ivan Carmichael, I swear to- Ooomph.." He takes out his dripping fingers and stuffs them into my mouth, effectively shutting up my threat.
Fine, two can play at this game, damn it.
I suck his fingers in, swirling my tongue around them like i do with his dick humming as i lick my juices off his skin. He thrusts them deeper down my throat, lazily pumping them before he pulls out and whirls me around. The movement makes my bump jiggle before he claims my mouth in a hungry kiss.
I'm panting and aching by the time he releases me. I don't have time to process or protest as he lets me go, slaps my ass, picks up the discarded dress off the floor, and flings it at me.
He adjusts himself in his pants and says in a rough voice, "Get dressed, you don't want to be late. I'll see you in the Exam hall."
And he... leaves. Just like that.
The Bastard.
I glare weakly after him and collapse on my bed then immediately regret it and moan "ooohh" At the feel of my sheets creating friction against my aching cunt.
I rub my bump restlessly and nibble my bottom lip. I could give myself an orgasm, could even use the toys in our expansive collection, but...it's not enough, it never is. Nothing comes even close to him, to his skilled, pierced dick and his wicked filthy mouth.
"Your daddy is gonna be the death of me" i whisper to our son before i heave myself up and off the bed with a soft grunt.
William doesn't get it. I want to finish my BSN nursing degree. I don't want and will not drop out or delay my diploma another year. That's just a waste of time and money.
I open my underwear drawer and pull out a lacy black set, then think for a bit and return the bra only pulling on the thong. Anything against my nipples right now will be torturous.
I sigh as i pull on the dress next and wince at how it looks in the mirror then try to make it less tantalizing. It used to fit me and reach just before my knees but with my bump...it barely reaches my thighs not to mention how much cleavage it's showing.
But...fuck it. I'm too horny and too pregnant and too tired to care much anymore.
I stuff my swollen feet in a pair of ballerina flats, fluff up my blonde hair a bit then grab my bag and keys. Making my way out of the door, i stop and rub my belly. It feels really uncomfortable today, hotter and tighter than it has all week.
With a sigh, i keep walking, although much slower, and lock the door before i start going down the stairs.
It doesn't matter. I just have to get through the three hours Exam while trying to ignore the urge to jump William right on top of the desk he's gonna be monitoring us from.
Then we'll come back here and i'll demand he fucks me six ways to Sunday then he'll punish me, in panty melting ways for using that tone with him then...
My horny thoughts stopped abruptly, and i let out a startled gasp, widening my legs. I rub both sides of my bump as the baby drops lower, applying pressure on my lower belly and my already aching pussy.
Well, Fuck.
(This is part 1. Let me know if you're interested in part 2, maybe 3.)
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wren-kitchens · 1 month
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mumscarian kitties in the winter!
honestly I am remembering so many drabbles I completely forgot I wrote. silver lining ig
“i’m home!” grian calls, stomping his feet on the doormat to kick off the majority of the snow before he steps into the house. 
he sighs as he’s hit with a wall of warm air, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. checking the clock on the wall, he can see that it’s barely past five in the evening, but already it’s pitch black outside.
as grian takes his shoes off and puts them on the radiator to dry, he can’t help noticing the silence in the house. usually his arrival is met with cheers, or bickering, or on one memorable occasion, shouts of panic as grian inadvertently distracted mumbo enough to set fire to a pancake.
but today, there’s nothing.
frowning, grian takes off his coat and scarf and hangs them on the radiator along with his boots, before heading into the living room to investigate the lack of noise. have they gone out as well? surely they’d text him though, right?
it becomes immediately apparent what the silence is caused by when grian pushes the door open gently and peeks in. his chest warms as he sees mumbo and scar, curled up together on the sofa, both fast asleep and completely oblivious to grian’s arrival.
scar is wearing the red jumper grian had leant him a while ago and never got back, with his arms around mumbo, who is laying on scar’s chest and has his nose buried in the woollen fabric. a movie is playing in the background, unseen and unheard by the two sleeping cats. grian’s smile (which he hadn’t realised he’d been wearing) grows even softer as he sees that mumbo’s and scar’s tails are curled together.
unsure of whether to wake them or not, grian opts to make them more comfortable. he takes the fluffy blanket from the armchair (scar’s favourite blanket—he says it’s warmer than all the others. grian doubts him, but who is he to judge) and carefully drapes it across his partners. he turns the tv off, assuming that they wouldn’t be at the right point in the film anyway.
however, despite grian’s best efforts to stay quiet, scar stirs, blinking sleepily up at grian. it seems to take a moment for him to process who he’s looking at, but once he does, his face lights up.
“hm? oh- grian!” he beams, and man, grian is so in love with him. “we missed you.”
grian suddenly realises why scar is wearing his jumper, and why mumbo has his nose pressed against it. 
“you saps.” grian grins, heat rushing to his face. “how long have you had this?” he gestures to the jumper.
“oh, a couple years.” scar says, trying to sound offhand, but his face turns pink, giving him away. “I, uh. it’s for emergencies.”
“emergencies?” grian raises an eyebrow, endeared. “like what?”
“like right now.” scar says. he leans up and kisses grian on the cheek. “because we missed you. it smells like you.” 
grian gives a huff of flustered laughter. “you two are so cute.”
“we know.” scar says smugly. he pats the empty spot of sofa next to him. “sit with us?”
grian looks at the two, curled up together, mumbo still fast asleep. his chest fills with a fuzzy warmth, and he can’t help smiling. “how could I refuse?”
(bonus drabble)
winter is not fun for a cat like scar.
it’s so cold, he thinks that one day he’s going to lose his ears to frostbite; and it’s dark constantly, no matter what time it technically should be; and grian and mumbo delight in making him wear the stupidest sweaters they can find. scar honestly didn’t understand how mumbo and grian could love it so much when they first met, because for scar it was so awful.
but for all his complaining and whining, scar has to admit now that winter is his favourite season.
because yes, it’s cold, but that means he can snuggle up under mountains of blankets with grian and mumbo; and yes, it’s dark, but that means he can spend more of his time napping with his face buried in the soft fur of his partners; and yes, grian and mumbo give him the silliest sweaters ever, but it’s worth the indignity to see the adoring looks on their faces when he comes out wearing their latest abomination.
and yes, all those reasons are to do with mumbo and grian. listen, you can’t blame him—they’re extremely easy to fall in love with. 
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madaqueue · 6 months
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Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 1
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synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?
pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader
themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). fluff, angst, language. kissing, mention of over-clothes grinding. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.3k
a/n: baby's first multi-chapter fic, please be nice or i'll cry :) thx. also this will eventually get more intense, but we're starting light teehee
series masterlist | next chapter
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You and Yuji Itadori have been friends your whole lives. You remember the day you first met on the playground in elementary school where you both insisted on racing each other to decide who got to use the tire swing first, and when you came in a dead tie you both refused to concede and ended up sitting on the swing together for the rest of recess. You stayed close as you grew up, often having sleepovers at each other's houses every weekend and spending almost every day together in and outside of school.
On one of these sleepovers while you were both sophomores in high school, you got around to discussing your first kisses and realized neither of you had had yours yet. You both agreed it wouldn't be weird to kiss each other and went for it; the only problem was that it was awful. From that day forward you both vowed to stay friends, but help each other practice all that romance stuff for whenever either of you wanted to actually date someone.
It was a miracle when you both ended up getting accepted to the same college, since one of you (*cough* Yuji) definitely slacked off a little more in high school, but you were so excited to get to spend the next four years with him.
The first semester of college went by quickly and you didn’t get to see each other too often since you came in as an engineering major and he was slowly working his way through business classes. Even though you hadn’t spent as much time together, you’d still get texts from him every few days with some stupid meal concoction he’d made in his dorm kitchen and you’d send each other TikToks that made you laugh. You let yourself fall into a rhythm between classes, homework, and exams, until one Wednesday evening you get an unexpected notification lighting up your phone:
Yuji: “heyy, come over? got a question to ask you”
The message sent butterflies through your stomach for some reason; you two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, and his text was much more direct than you expected. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think of how to respond.
You: “okayy, be over in 5. should I bring anything?”
His response almost immediately appears under yours:
Yuji: “just yourself, sweets ;)”
The nickname caught you a bit off guard and you questioned what to say next before another text came up:
Yuji: “sorry, don’t know why I said that lmao. see you soon :)”
You sigh and lock your phone, setting it down on the bed beside you before standing up and sliding your shoes, tossing on a sweatshirt on top of your leggings and cropped t-shirt before heading out.
You stand outside his dorm, looking at the “Yuji” name sign made out of construction paper taped to his door. Below it was a mini whiteboard he had put up that had some less-than-tasteful drawings and the note “Itadori + Fushiguro” written on it surrounded by hearts. You rolled your eyes as you knocked, the door immediately swinging open as you were greeted by the pink-haired boy wearing his standard red hoodie and jeans combo, looking down on you with a huge grin on his face.
“Welcome, welcome!” he said with a smile, ushering you inside. You looked around and realized you had never actually been in his dorm before - whenever you hung out last semester it was always at cafes, the library, or a party, but never in either of your rooms. You look around and appreciate that he actually managed to make the small space kind of nice. You smirk at the dark blue bedding on his twin size mattress and pinup posters adorning his walls as the LEDs lining the room cast a blue glow across everything.
“You like it?” Yuji asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“It’s very…hmm…how do I say this…you,” you say with a smirk.
He giggles as he flops down on the bed. “Well, you did always know me well.”
You kick off your shoes and sit down onto the bed next to him. “So, what’d you have to ask me?” you question as you turn to face him.
“Right!” he exclaims, hopping off the bed to stand in front of you. “Remember when we were younger and we promised to help each other practice all the romance stuff so we’d be ready for when we get in a real relationship?” You nod as he continues. “Well, I think I might finally be ready to kick things off, and I sorta need your help with the whole practice thing.”
You freeze. This was the last thing on your mind when you came over. You hadn’t even seen Yuji in almost a month, and this is the first thing he says to you? How could he even remember that stupid deal you had made after your horrible first kiss with each other?
Your thoughts suddenly come to a halt as you realize what this might mean. “Wait,” you start, looking up at him from the bed, “does this mean you have a crush on someone?”
Yuji’s face turns red as he breaks eye contact and looks down at the ground, one arm reaching up behind his head to scratch his undercut. “Um, kinda, I think so,” he says as he grins sheepishly. “There’s a girl in one of my classes, and we’ve hung out a few times for this group project, and-“
“And you want my help making sure you know what you’re doing, right?” you cut him off. He looks back up at you, cheeks still red, and nods slightly. “Wait,” you think out loud, “does that mean you haven’t kissed anyone since then?”
His face flushes again and his eyes shoot back to the ground as he mumbles “No.”
You chuckle softly as you get up to meet him in the middle of the room, throwing your arms around his neck and tilting his chin so you’re making eye contact. You’re not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but it just feels natural for you in that moment. In all honesty, you actually hadn’t kissed anyone since then either - you just hadn’t seen the need - but Yuji doesn’t need to know that. You gaze into his soft brown eyes as he nervously bites his lip, waiting for your response to his confession.
“Don’t worry Yu, that’s okay,” you whisper, your lips nearly grazing his, “we can practice together.”
Yuji nearly squeals with excitement, dissipating any tension or romance that was building between you two. “Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaims as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up in the air and spinning you around. He sets you down but his hands don’t leave your hips as he looks down at you expectantly. “Okay, where do we start?” he practically beams down at you.
You pause to think for a moment before responding. “Well, we should probably figure out where you’re starting so we can work on what actually needs to be improved.”
“Works for me!” he says, picking you up again with ease as he walks towards his bed. Your legs wrap around his waist for stability as he sits down with his back against the headboard and you in his lap. The position also gave you butterflies for some reason, which was odd since the two of you used to sit like this all the time - you in Yuji’s lap during car rides when there wasn’t enough space, your head laying across his chest while you watched movies, or even his head resting on your stomach while you tried to braid his hair. But for some reason, this time felt different, maybe because you knew what was about to happen.
“Ready?” he asked with a smile. You nod, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you expect is going to be a repeat of your last horrible kiss. “Okay, let’s do this,” Yuji says with a soft sigh, still smiling, and you try not to laugh at his lack of seriousness about the whole situation. But before you can react, his hand reaches up to your cheek and his eyes flutter closed as he leans towards you. You let your eyes shut as his soft lips press against yours. He holds himself there for a moment before beginning to gently suck on your bottom lip. The unexpected action causes you to open your mouth slightly in surprise, and he takes the opportunity to gently slide his tongue between your lips. Your tongues meet as he gently explores your mouth with his. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you close to him. At the same time, one of your hands slides up from his hips to the back of his hair and you run your fingers over the softness of his freshly-trimmed undercut.
You start to feel yourself get lightheaded as the kiss gets sloppier and Yuji shows no sign of letting up. You begin to pull yourself away to catch your breath but just as you feel the air hit your lungs he uses the hand on your neck to gently push you back towards his slightly parted lips. It’s almost as if he couldn’t stand to spend a second separated from you and you willingly lean back in as he gets more eager, his tongue effortlessly slipping back into your mouth. The action elicits a soft moan from you, and you feel heat building between your legs. Your hips almost start grinding against the boy beneath you before you remember who it is - your best friend. You open your eyes suddenly and pull away from the kiss, Yuji loosening his hold on the back of your neck as a thin thread of your shared saliva temporarily connects your lips. You are met with those sweet, brown eyes, his cheeks flushed and lips pink from the intense kiss you suddenly pulled him away from.
As your brain clears, the first thing you’re able to say to him is “What the hell?”
“What, was it alright?” he hums back through a smile.
“That was m-more than alright, there’s no way that’s only your second time ever doing that!” you stutter, trying to get the words out.
He shrugs, “What can I say? Sometimes I’m just a natural.”
You start to sit up more and lean back off his lap, when there’s a sudden noise at the door. “Dude c’mon, hop on Discord, we’re gonna play some ranked matches.” The door handle turns as the sentence finishes, and in steps a man dressed in all black with his short black hair fanning out in every direction. He takes in the scene in front of him with you and Yuji sitting on the bed and he immediately covers his eyes with his hands. “S-shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know you had someone over and I-“ he stutters as you watch his ears turn red from embarrassment.
“No need to apologize my dear friend!” Yuji proclaims as he hops off the bed, clearly no longer thinking about the intense moment you two just shared. He turns to you while gesturing towards the clearly distressed man in the doorway. “This is Fushiguro!” he yells, almost too loudly, with a smile plastered on his face.
Once the man in the door realizes that Yuji has no plans to provide any more information, he removes his hands from his eyes and politely waves at you from across the room. “Um, hi. Yeah, I’m Megumi Fushiguro, but you can just call me Megumi. I live across the hall from Yuji,” he explains, pointing over his shoulder at the door to his room.
You introduce yourself and give a little wave back. “Oh, wait a minute, you’re the Fushiguro that’s on Yuji’s sign on his door, right?” you say with a little laugh, remembering the whiteboard you saw on your way in.
“That's the one! Isn’t he charming?” Yuji sing-speaks as he practically skips towards Megumi. 
The boy in black seems less than impressed with the situation and rolls his eyes. “Yep, that’s me. Again though, you can call me Megumi. I don’t know why Yuji insists on calling me by my last name, I mean we’re basically the same age-”
“Because I just loooooove your name!” Yuji exclaims, now standing next to Megumi and batting his eyelashes dramatically at him. Megumi responds by holding a hand out to his side and gently shoving Yuji, who dramatically pretends to slide down against the wall with a pout.
“Anyways, I was gonna play some video games, but if you guys are busy we can do it another night,” Megumi explains.
“Nah don’t worry, I should probably head home anyways and make some dinner, I’ll leave you boys to it,” you say as you stand up to put your sweatshirt back on, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs.
Still sitting on the ground, Yuji chimes in, “Aww, you don’t want me to make you dinner here?”
“I don’t think I want to eat the things you make if they’re anything like the meals you’ve been sending me over the past semester,” you preempt.
“Oh man, he’s shown you those too?” Megumi responds with a smirk as he reaches a hand out to help Yuji off the floor.
Yuji stands up proudly, stating “You guys just don’t understand my culinary genius.”
“I wouldn’t call a strawberry Poptart with cheese on it ‘culinary genius,’” you say with a chuckle as a pout returns to Yuji’s face. You put your shoes on and slide past the boys in the doorway. “Anyways, goodnight Yuji, and it was nice to meet you Megumi!” you wave back at them from the hallway.
When you get back to your dorm, you’re finally able to process the events that just took place. All you’re left with is more questions.
When did he learn how to kiss like that? How did he learn how to kiss like that? And why do you want more of it so badly?
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yuadokjon · 8 months
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you dare breakup with me?
summary: you dare to break up with sukuna. via text.
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"I think we should break up."
Almost an hour later since you've texted him that and still nothing. Typical. Sukuna wasn't the most responsive person, but you had still foolishly hoped something like this would elicit something more than the usual automatic acknowledgement. Anchored only by the tiny timestamp underneath, the text had long drifted among a sea of other blue bubbles before finally being swallowed up by the blackened screen. You half-swore he left these read receipts on just to torment you. He would see your messages - this one almost instantly - but wouldn't respond for hours or days at a time, if at all. Everything was always to be on his schedule. His whim. His mercy. And yet you gave in to it all every time. Every. Damn. Time. Typical. But not tonight.
The phone's screen had darkened long ago, only your tear-stained reflection staring blankly up at you. You tapped the surface and blinked at the white numbers that confirmed your self-imposed deadline was now up. An hour. That was all that you had given him and, even then, most might say an hour more than he deserved. You were tired. Just so tired and done. Tired of his games. The forgotten dates. The long nights alone. The blush of pink across a collar, the wisp of foreign perfume, the mysterious texts, the fights, the tears. Done.
Your thumbs seemed to move on their own as you absentmindedly re-opened the app to text someone else. A flurry of messages back and forth later, and Choso had invited himself to stay for the night -- with some cult slashers, boba, and assorted snacks in tow -- and refused to take no for an answer. You smiled into your pillow. He truly was the best. No matter what you were going through, Choso had proven time and time again that he would always be there for you. And, hell, you were going through a lot tonight. So you relented and even managed a laugh when he sent back a gif of a happily dancing panda. Deciding to clean up a bit before the arrival of your best friend, you dragged yourself out from the cavern of your covers to make your way to the restroom.
As you splashed the cool water across your face, you felt your heart starting to sink again as thoughts of him started to swarm. You eyed the second toothbrush and piled clothes in the corner, and the heaviness seemed to seep out and down into the very edges of your limbs. You gripped the sink and shut your eyes, thickly swallowing back the whimpers that eventually escaped as a surprised cry at a sudden knock on your front door. Choso arrived earlier than you expected. You pathetically sniffed and wiped away at your face. You didn't want your best friend to see you like this. But as you made your way to the front, you felt the tears threatening to overflow again and your steps quickened. You swung the door open and collapsed into the arms of your guest, broken sobs that hiccuped endlessly once the dam had broken.
"H-he's s-such an asshole," you cried into your friend's chest and felt him stiffen under your arms. You were sorry to put Choso into this position, again. How many times had he warned you about him? Hadn't he already told you how much of an asshole he was from day one? You were such an idiot. You should've listened to your friend and spared yourself the many heartbreaks. You squeezed him tighter, hoping he could somehow feel your thoughts through your embrace. It was only when he moved his arms that you noticed the familiar black bands encircling them and froze.
"Who's such an asshole, doll?"
You recoiled back at the inquiry purred into your ear, lightning strikes erupting across your skin and every cell in your body screaming to run. You could feel your heart thumping loudly within your throat, fighting for space with the words that were caught there. You barely managed to croak out the correct identity of your nightly visitor as you gazed upon his marked visage in stark terror:
"S-sukuna...."
A pair of bright scarlet eyes glowered down at your trembling form while a sinister crescent broke out from under their shine. The sickly sweet voice asked again with an amused tilt of the head and a dangerous step forward, the words now tinged with interrogation:
"Who's such an asshole?"
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sereh624 · 27 days
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im on a cruise and i like to project so here is:
redacted audio characters on a cruise !! (part one)
david : tries to get everyone to meet up at certain times to do a headcount and make sure everyone is okay (plus for mealtimes). he gives up on day 2 when he realizes everyone is either too drunk to read texts, too hungover to pick up the phone or too busy doing their own thing somewhere on the ship. angel spends a lot of time during the start of the trip convincing david to just relax, and let himself unwind, preferably on a sun-chair by the pool, with a drink in hand.
asher : buys everyone matching shirts with david’s face on them prior to boarding, and hands them out in secret during the trip. on the last night, everyone shows up to a luxury restaurant for dinner, wearing their stupid david button-ups. if david didn’t laugh, he’d throttle asher.
milo : has an outfit for every occasion. every holiday, vacation, road trip, milo always packs an impossible, unnecessary amount of clothes “just in case.” sweetheart, being an almost fashion-guru themselves, doesn’t really mind. while everybody has moderately sized luggage packed, milo and sweetheart lug around massive, heavy suitcases for “just in case.”
sam : who was reluctant to come on the trip at all at first, not wanting to ruin the fun or miss out just because he couldn’t be in the sun like everyone else. david insisted on bringing sam, so to accomodate, they booked a cruise with plenty of nightlife. the following week, sam spent it like he did in his younger years. partying all night, waking up in the morning hungover just to sleep all day, before dragging himself to dinner, from there starting the cycle all over again.
huxley : who in order to help damien cool down from the blaring sun (and secretly for his own enjoyment), spends a whole lot of time in the pool. he brought like 10 pairs of swimming shorts, claiming he wanted a variety to “show off.” he also refuses to leave his dishes around the ship, even though the staff encourage it, always taking the long journey back to the kitchen to properly hand it to the wait staff. it’s a blessing and a curse, really.
damien : who nearly bursts a blood vessel trying to plan the trip in the first place. once he makes it on the boat though, all the stress melts away and he can finally unwind in the pool. that relaxation is rudely interrupted when he has to keep trying to escape both gavin and huxley being menaces, splashing water onto his hair, even though he specifically told them to keep it dry. he’d scheduled his hair washes to best suit his routine, and all this chlorine was going to ruin it.
lasko : who had pretty bad motion sickness the first two days on the ship. he swore he could feel it swaying at all hours of the day, even when he himself was in motion. after a couple days in the cabin bed and plenty of water, he was fine to keep exploring. as long as he didn’t go near the edge. or think about how high up he was. or acknowledge that it was rocking. or stay still for too long. or go in the pool for too long. or-
gavin : who absolutely rocks his pool outfits. gavin was never one to care about stereotypes and who is expected to wear what; he wore whatever he liked and looked hot doing it. hot pink bikini sets, shorts, dresses, whatever he wore always looked good. It’s go big or go home with gavin.
-
@skunkox @definetelynuwonhere @huxleaf
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xoxoskai · 1 year
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ELIAVA HEADCANNONS
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May 2024 is too far, and the delusion preservation is imperative.
Eli listens to classical music just for Ava.
Ava sometimes sneaks into the library at the King's mansion just to swipe a book or two that she may have seen Eli reading. Other times, she bribes Creighton.
Eli is practically adopted by Silver the moment Elsa reveals his little crush (privately, of course) on her daughter. It does not stop Cole from throwing jabs at him whenever he comes over to hang out with Aunt Silver and to spy on his girl.
During their childhood, they've been locked together by their friends/siblings/cousins in the same room/closet plenty of times.
As a sign of rebellion against her parents, Ava once dyes her entire hair pink. The mortification hits her soon after and she refuses to talk to anyone until one text, one silent drive to the salon later she's sharing her snickers bar with Eli as a form of thanks.
Eli always leaves an anonymous bouquet of pink roses (her favorite) for Ava before her recitals in her dressing room. It's the only sign that he attends her recitals at all (Eli has attended every single one of them).
Whenever Eli goes AWOL, only Ava knows he's hiding in the library in a dark nook that has space behind the shelf just enough for two people. Sometimes, she joins him. Other times, she lays her head against his shoulder as he reads in the quiet.
All the teasing garnered from her friends due to Eli's attention suddenly stops one day. Becomes more...cautious.
Eli swears he had nothing to do with it and that he would never threaten them (he's lying, he nearly makes Remi cry).
Ava, like her mom, also writes journals where a lot of pages have Eli's name written, circled, crossed and scribbled out.
For prom, RES hosts a masquerade theme but every single boy in the school is terrified to ask Ava to prom. Glyndon decides to go without a date as well and Cecily flies in to join them. Both friends pretend not to notice Ava dancing with a masked stranger on the dancefloor at midnight.
Eli never stays longer than five minutes at any of Ava's birthdays/sometimes she never finds him at all, but she always finds his gifts in her room.
Ava has a jersey with Eli's number on it that Cole secretly swipes out of her closet to burn but gets caught by Silver.
Ariella is Eli's partner-in-crime.
After Eli leaves for University, Ava shows up at the King's mansion under the pretense of hanging out with Elsa but it's just to sneak into Eli's room and look at all his awards and trophies longingly she does not miss him.
When they finally start dating, they are met with long-suffering sighs, "finally"'s and "took you guys forever."
Ava drops little hints of herself wherever she can find a place for it. Scrunchie on his gearshift. Perfume bottle on his desk. "Accidental" kiss mark on his collar. Her ring on a chain around his neck.
Ava makes Eli watch all the chick-flicks she can because she's appalled when she finds out he hasn't watched Mean Girls.
"BOo, yoU wHoRE" - Remi says, sitting next to Cecy, Glyn, Annika and Ava wearing a facemask matching theirs.
The moment Cole opens the door to see his daughter and King's spawn standing together, hand-in-hand, the first thing he says is "No"
And it's final, too. No amount of convincing from both Silver and Ava seems to work.
When he finally comes around and they all sit down for dinner, they have a "Daddy, can you pass the salt?" moment after which Eli is chased out of the house by Cole and his gün.
Eli sneaks in thru the balcony into Ava's room anyway. Both Ariella and Silver know and choose not to tell Cole.
Eli's only saving grace with Cole is that Eli would kilI for his daughter or die trying and Cole wouldn't want any man willing to give anything lesser for his Ava.
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Part two?
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