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b0r3dtod3ath · 3 months

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HEYY,so i really really love flirty cocky possessive lando but at the same time a cute lando😭hmm

i’m not very good at prompts but here’s some idk if they’re good 🤷‍♀️

- bestfriend readers came back to landos house (that he shares w max f and reader because they’re all bffs) and readers been out drinking and came back crying because readers now ex boyfriend cheated on her and lando is such a cutie,(but has romantic feelings for reader just doesn’t know how to tell her) he takes care of her and they go to his bathroom where he places her on a counter, wipes her tears takes her mascara and dress off and gets her one of his hoodies bc he’s very protective of her,and just tells her how she doesn’t need her ex he was a of shit bf and he knows loads of men that would treat her better and being a cutie hugging her and shit and he just takes her to his bed where he just hugs her all night,maybe bc he’s a little upset some prick hurt his girlie like this😭😭

- Lando and reader ‘hating’ each other and bickering when other drivers are around but one day it all changes when some of the grid wake up after having a big party at another drivers house and lando and reader coming out of the same room / or being caught laying with each other the morning after 😁

- pool party with grid but bff lando x reader ?? Everyone thinking lando was seeing multiple girls but after reader starting to get very close with another driver in the pool clingy ,touchy and needy lando comes out,the side of lando nobody knew because he always acted nonchalant with girls and grabs her by the waist (idk this one isn’t very good but you get the idea) and yea you can escalate it from thereeee

- Reader x Bff lando ((again ik) Reader and lando share a house with other friends such as max F) and reader is getting ready for another hopeless date to fill the void of the only man she wanted which was lando ofc.Lando barges into her room when reader is wearing a kinda see through silky bath gown on top of an vs set,only because she was getting ready,obvs she was gonna replace the overlay with her dress after,Lando bursting in was nothing new and she and him was close, they are best friends that sleep one wall away.. and lando kinda checks her out while asking where she was going as he lays on her bed and she tells him about this date and he gets jelaous?!! reader goes into the bathroom to change into her outfit and lando is just says something like “ooooh you really do need to get laid don’t u?” and she jokingly argues back but he gets kinda clingy,upset,annoyed,pissy maybe? starts questioning why she goes on these pointless dates or one night stands then gets so hyped up by her short dress that he goes “do they even make you cum” and she’s at her mirror and he just comes up behind her because she doesn’t respond and becomes touchy bc yh😚

ok srsly i wrote this at almost 3.30am i’m so tired but can’t sleeeeep, i’m sorry if this is a mess but you can tell i have such a thing for reader bff tropes!!! this whole thing MIGHT be useless i’m sorry if you can’t understand any of it btw LOL😁

request: bestfriend readers came back to landos house (that he shares w max f and reader because they’re all bffs) and readers been out drinking and came back crying because readers now ex boyfriend cheated on her and lando is such a cutie,(but has romantic feelings for reader just doesn’t know how to tell her) he takes care of her and they go to his bathroom where he places her on a counter, wipes her tears takes her mascara and dress off and gets her one of his hoodies bc he’s very protective of her,and just tells her how she doesn’t need her ex he was a of shit bf and he knows loads of men that would treat her better and being a cutie hugging her and shit and he just takes her to his bed where he just hugs her all night,maybe bc he’s a little upset some prick hurt his girlie like this😭😭

a/n: I'm so sorry it took so long to reply to your request. Thank you and I love your message! I hope you are still interested in reading this. I wrote just one part but I definitely will be coming back to this request!

Lando was laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone, when he heard the front door creak open. He glanced up, expecting to see Max or you. Instead, he was met with the sight of you stumbling through the doorway in makeup ruined by tears streaming down your face.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you?" Lando asked, jumping up and rushing over to you.

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Lando gently took your hand and guided you further inside, closing the door behind you. His heart ached at the sight of you so broken. "Come on, let's sit down," he said softly, leading you to the couch. You collapsed onto it, burying your face in your hands - avoiding his look. "He broke up with me," you finally managed to say between sobs. "He did it in front of half of our friends, and I… I just can't believe he could humiliate me like that and that we are over”.

Lando's jaw clenched in anger at the thought of your ex-boyfriend's cruelty, but he pushed those feelings aside. Right now, you were in need of his comfort, not his rage. "I'm so sorry," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "You don't deserve to be treated like that”. You leaned into him, your body shaking with sobs. "You are the best person I know, and he was an idiot to let you go. You deserve someone who will treat you with the love and respect you deserve” Lando said firmly, lifting your chin so you would look at him. You sniffled, more tears streaming down your face. "Thank you, Lando. I don't know what I would do without you”.

Lando's heart swelled at your words. He had always had feelings for you, but he had never expressed them in fear of ruining your friendship. When you got into a relationship it was a bit easier for him as he kept telling himself that you found someone you loved. Seeing you so broken, he knew he needed to be there for you, no matter what.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said gently, helping you to your feet. He led you to the bathroom, lifting you onto the counter. He didn’t know how to execute your routine and started confusingly looking through your cabinets. You giggled at the sight of him being lost and with a quiet voice instructed him what to do. He was wiping away your tears and makeup as if you were made out of porcelain. "You don't need him," Lando said softly as you cried even more. "He was a piece of shit, and you deserve so much better. You know it”. You sniffled, the pain in your chest easing slightly at his comforting words. "Thank you, Lando”. He smiled, a bittersweet feeling tugging at his heart as he looked into your bloody eyes.

"Let’s get changed," he said, carefully unzipping your dress and helping you slip into one of his hoodies. It brought you a sense of comfort. Not only because of its size and softness but also because it smelled like Lando. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "You don't need him," he repeated softly, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know so many guys who would treat you the way you deserve to be treated." You clung to him with your face buried in his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. "You're the best, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

His heart ached at the thought of you hurting as he ran his hand up and down your back. "You need some rest," he said, guiding you to your bedroom.

Lando pulled back the covers and helped you into your bed before climbing in beside you. He wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close. "I'll be right here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere”. As you drifted off to sleep, comforted by his presence, Lando stayed awake for a while longer, his mind racing. He was upset that someone had hurt you so deeply, but he was also determined to be there for you, to show you how much you meant to him. "You're going to be okay," he whispered into the darkness, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I promise”.

June 10, 2024

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris fluff

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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DEAR SPRING, STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of them.)

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up.

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you?

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes.

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin.

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now.

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you.

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses.

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question.

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips.

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?”

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog.

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you…

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away.

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes.

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms.

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin.

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour.

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. i feel neglected in this household.”

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten.

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun.

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this?

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning.

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours.

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd.

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking.

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up.

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks.

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come.

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again — a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins.

and you smile.

(it’s springtime, now. a little warmer.

here’s to another year together.)

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko ieiri x y/n #shoko ieiri x you #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #sashisu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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kzlove · 7 months

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handle you

syn -> eren proves that he can handle you.

warnings : smut, squirting, creampie, thick black reader, weed and alcohol usage, unprotected sex, spit, not proofread; just nasty

you were laying in bed with your led lights on, tv playing music softly from its speakers.

frank ocean, flo mili, sza, steve lacy, kali uchis, and whoever fit their way into the mood.

it was definitely past twelve o clock now, but you didn't feel even a bit of tired.

you take a couple pictures and post it on instagram, labeling it as 'bored' before posting.

you see a lot of your homegirls like it immediately, but of course they all was doing something.

sasha had a class to go to in the morning, annie was exhausted from work, pieck was with her boyfriend.

the only person that didn't heart it was mikasa, and that was probably because she was with her boyfriend too.

you drop your phone down and roll your eyes, deciding to begin working on your assignment due next week.

but you don't have to mess with it for long.

your phone buzzes next to you, gaining your attention from the laptop. an instagram notification.

onyandrift replied to your story : smoke sesh? wtw

you roll your eyes, recognizing the username as your boy best friend.

the two of you use to kick it with each other all the time, and even spent a few nights at his house over the summer in high school.

but you fell off, cause eventually he got a girlfriend and started to stream games and a bunch of other nonsense.

around that same time, you started focusing more on yourself.

loveyn : lame booooo loveyn : ion got weed to share w u

onyandrift : girl you nvr do onyandrift : i'm providing onyandrift : come kick it w me n a few of my hbs

loveyn : uhm loveyn : you think i wanna be around bare niggas tn??

onyandrift : stop yappin and get dressed im omw

you roll your eyes at the text and sigh, checking the weather.

it wasn't gonna be too cold, so you settled for this and grabbed your phone charger and lip gloss.

onyankopon doesn't live far, so it doesn't surprise you when you hear his audi a6 make that annoying popping noise outside your house.

you groan in annoyance and grab a water bottle before stepping outside, immediately walking to the car.

"why the fuck you still got that shit bruh?" you complain, climbing into the front seat.

he had on his essentials hoodie and black sweatshorts, grey yeezy slides on and a velvet durag.

he shoots you a grin before he takes takes your things and puts it in the backseat like he always did.

during your senior year, he had you sit outside with him in the hot ass sun while he put something on his car to make it noisy as hell.

he did explain what it was, but it wasn't like you really cared so you ignored him.

you didn't expect him to still have it though.

"who all gon be up in there ony?" you ask once he makes it to the stop light.

onyankopon sits back in his seat and things, rubbing the stubble on his face in fake thought.

"don't know." he fakes, before driving off when the light turns green.

you groan in annoyance, fixing your hair and at least making sure you looked good.

when you make it, he grabs your things and tells you to head to the backyard where everyone else is.

you follow his instructions, grumbling about how he had better sprayed all the mosquitos.

everyone was back there like he said they were.

it was armin, jean, mikasa, onyan's girlfriend zara, and some guy you don't recall ever seeing.

"hey girl! come sit!" mikasa grins, swinging her legs off jean and patting the seat beside her.

it happened to be between her and the random guy.

he didn't pick his head up to greet you or even look at you, tapping away at his phone.

'rude ass' you thought to yourself, sitting next to mikasa with a bit of a stank face.

she follows your view, and sighs, leaning back. "don't mind him. he just don't wanna be outside." mikasa reassures.

you roll your eyes and fix yourself, saying hi to everyone else.

onyankopon joins you all in the back with all the spliffs he had rolled after hitting everyone up.

sooner or later, lost by frank ocean was playing lowly on the speaker and you were all on your third spliff.

"this would be so much better if we had drinks." mikasa complained, leaning back onto jean.

he ignores her, because everyone knows how nasty she gets when she's drunk and high.

"fuck that. some fucking food would be amazing." armin huffed out smoke, handing the spliff over to zara.

everyone groaned in agreement, and you were the only one to get up with a hum.

you don't miss the way a pair of eyes trace your body as you stretch and fix your pants.

"finna go find sum in the kitchen for us to eat." you grumble, venturing into the house.

you close the screen door behind you and look through his cabinets with a frown, fixing your hair out of your face.

the sliding door to the backyard slides open and closed, making you turn to the sound.

it was the silent guy, eren, you learned his name was.

and now you could see him in proper light.

he wore a grey hoodie and a pair of baggy sweats, long hair pulled into a up and down.

you had to admit that he was fine, his wife beater seeming tight around his chest.

and green eyes staring you the fuck down.

"can i help you?" you question rudely, turning back to the fruit snacks in the pantry.

"maybe you can." he responds, and you hear him approach you.

now you know your position could be taken as anything but innocent, bent over inside a pantry.

you stand up straight and face him, looking him up and down. you weren't know easy bitch, and you won't be treated as such.

"you can't handle me." you complain, pulling your phone out and grab the whole box of fruit snacks.

he takes the box from you and puts it on the counter, smirking just a little bit at you.

"you don't think so?" eren questions, tilting his head teasingly.

you scoff, jabbing your nail into his chest harshly until he backed up.

"trust me, baby. i know." you grab the fruit snacks up and join everyone else.

"nah don't run now. thought i couldn't handle you?" eren grinned down at you cockily.

you were bent over onyankopon's guest bed, back arched and face smushed into the sheets.

one thing is for certain, you shouldn't have picked up that fucking cup.

mikasa brought out the liquor and poured everyone a cup.

which led to everyone spending the night at ony's house and crashing in every room.

mikasa and jean took the game room in the basement, ony and zara obviously took his room, while armin crashed on the long L shaped couch with eren.

or well, he should've.

you couldn't stop teasing him in that stupid fucking graphic tee ony lent you for the night.

which led you here, under eren's strong hold and getting your pussy pounded something serious.

"ooouu why you fucking me like this?" you whine out a bit too loud, reaching back to press on his stomach.

but eren shut that down immediately, slapping your hand away and stuffing all eight inches in your gut.

"all fucking talk." eren grumbles to himself, angling his hips upwards and fucking you even harder.

at this angle, his fat tip was slamming right into your g-spot.

your jaw goes slack in a silent scream as you push your ass back onto him, holding onto the pillow.

eren grins over you, slapping the flesh connecting your waist to your thighs.

"good girl.. take this fucking dick." eren grunts out, obsessed with the way your ass ricocheted off his abs.

"wait wait wait! m'gonna make a mess!" you pleaded with him, grabbing his strong arms.

hearing that only made him speed up, staring directly at your pussy as it clenched around him.

you screamed into the pillow, squirting harshly onto the sheets beneath you.

eren pulls out to watch, catching his breath and clapping your ass cheeks together.

when you catch your breath, you turn your head to figure out why he was so quiet behind you.

he stared back at you, before chuckling lightly. "onyankopon is gonna fuck us up." he joked, flipping you onto your back.

you rolled your eyes and get comfortable, staring at him from behind your lashes.

"not us. you. i told you i'd make a mess." you shoot back, letting him lift your legs up.

"uh huh. sure." eren says, not even listening to you as he pushes right back inside of you.

in this position, he reaches deeper inside of you and it makes you whine again.

you can't even think of a remark to say back, because his pace picks up once more.

eren wraps his hand around your throat and leans in, spitting in your mouth.

you accept it gratefully, swallowing and pulling him down to kiss him.

eren groans into the kiss, rutting into harder and rubbing your clit in rough circles.

you moan out, arching your back and grabbing his hand.

"fuck.. gonna make me nut in this pussy." eren groans out, moving his hand off your throat and kissing just below your ear.

you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure, bucking your hips weakly into him.

what he says doesn't register in your brain, your head going foggy as all you could focus on was how good he was fucking you.

eren starts to mumble something you don't hear clearly, bucking into you wildly.

you cum around him again, locking your knees behind him and digging your nails into his back.

eren groans in your ear, hips stuttering as he shoots thick, hot ropes into your sensitive pussy.

you flinch and whine lightly at the feeling, playing with his hair.

the two of you lay in your combined juices, still coming down from your highs.

eventually, eren turns his head to face you and grins.

"i gotta buy you a plan b?" he questions, rubbing your thigh in slow circles to get your full attention.

you shake your head and close your eyes. "i'm on birth control." you inform, taking a look at your nails.

"you gotta pay for my lashes and nails tho. got me fucked up." you grumble, looking at your broken index nail and missing pinky.

eren laughs at that, pulling out and climbing off the bed to pull his boxers back on.

"can't handle you my ass. don't ever let me hear you say that shit again girl." eren teases, helping you off the bed.

loud knocks make the two of you freeze, grabbing the sheets to cover your still naked.

a loud voice rings out from behind, making you remember exactly where you two were.

"aye make sure yall niggas clean up and take that fucking sheet home! got me fucked up, fucking in my house like that!" onyankopon complains, before walking off.

eren looks back at you with a grin, before slapping the fat of your thigh playfully.

he's never letting you stay over again.

#aot fanfiction #attack on titan #aot fluff #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #kz-loves-you #eren jeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren aot #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n

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inf3ct3dd · 7 months

Text

loser!ellie headcanons pt.6

summary: ellieeee my chiquitita my baby my love

warnings: none :3

authors note: ik yall missed herrrr

masterlist. help palestine.🇵🇸

- ellie tries to be soooo cool and wear her cool people jackets (leather jackets, canvas, those carhartt hoodie jackets etc) but they’re very not helpful against the cold and you’ll be out with her and shes just SHIVERING the whole time…

- she’s obsessed w those “general knowledge quizzes” on tiktok. that girl is a hoe for trivia she’s sitting on her bed at three in the morning saying her answers OUT LOUD while she watches them. she gets so upset when she gets literally any wrong… “man…im not a quiz master 🙁”

- ik in the games she walks around with her little journal and shit but i feel like shes definitely jus constantly typing shit in her notes app… random thoughts and jokes and shit that she most definitely shows you at the end of the day

- she barely ever baby talks to babies… she’ll go up to a baby and just be like “wassup dude” and have a full blown conversation with him while the babies just sitting there babbling and giggling at her

- thinks those “im nothing like yall” slideshows r so hilarious…. like you’ll be on the couch and she’s just giggling at her phone at paracetamol 😞

- references the most niche memes ever constantly and literally googles them to explain herself. you guys went camping and she said “boy you want hot dog” and you were like ????

- so strangely particular about how her stuff is arranged 😭 her desk looks like an absolute hot mess 90% of the time but SHE UNDERSTANDS IT and if u try and organize it for her she just puts it back how it was

- always says “guys” and “yall” when she’s talking to literally one person. and CHAT. she just constantly adds it into conversation like “chat how are you today”

- loves asking if things are “fire.” she’ll cook you something and you take a bite and shes like “is that shit fire???” she has to know

- obsessed with “i barely know her” jokes. the second someone says something ending in er shes like “rider??? i barely know her!!” and she’s laughing her ass off

- that girl will go HAM on some mac and cheese. but it can only be really good baked mac or the shitty kraft mac and cheese. she puts like- hella pepper and red chili flakes in it and eats it straight out of the pot 🔥 its always at like three in the morning and you just walk in the kitchen to her with a pot in her lap watching glee or some shit

- SPEAKING. OF. glee is most definitely one of her guilty pleasure shows…like shes rewatched it a million times and glee cast was one of her top artists on apple music wrapped

- shes an apple music user. send tweet.

- got yelled at by an old lady once cuz she picked her flowers out of her front yard and gave them to you

- when i tell you that girl goes ham on those tiny clementines… she’ll eat like 10 in one day and theres just PEELS. EVERYWHERE.

- also she fw grapes heavy. especially green grapes (shes a weird little freak red grapes are so much better)

- OBSESSED WITH THOSE BLIND BAG SHITS. especially mini brands oh my god she definitely has the whole lil grocery store set and she’s so obsessed with it.

- her house slippers are definitely just a pair of crocs with the fur inside and a bunch of stupid ass jibbits. she buys the mega packs off amazon and changes them whenever shes bored

- has SO MANY drafts on tiktok and they’re all her trying filters staring at the screen like 😯

- most annoying person to sleep next to ever . snoring, sleep talking, moving around CONSTANTLY and hitting you accidentally, the only way she sleeps peacefully is if you’re holding her or she’s holding you, otherwise shes insane

- weirdly into linguistics…that girl is using humongous words for no good reason just for fun and half the time she has no idea what they mean and when she googles them and shes right about the definition she does that little fist pump and “fuck yes”

- speaking of. that girl is SPEEDRUNNING DUOLINGO . she’s fluent in (bad spaniard) spanish from it, and just learns random languages for fun. you speak a different language? she’s learning it immediately. definitely leaves notes for you in random languages she learned and you have to pull out a translator to understand wtf shes talking about… she also sleep talks in spanish sometimes and its so funny

- loves trying out different recipes…like i said my girl is a CHEF she will be at home fucking up a salmon bake she made and making you homemade pho for dinner

- had a phase when she was younger when she was really into the la bamba movie and dressed like richie valens for two years

- also cried so hard when she watched selena with you…that girl was devastated 💔 every time she hears “dreaming of you” she almost sheds a tear

“when that yolanda bitch gets out of prison….im shooting someone . its obvious who its gonna be.”

- she definitely begged joel to buy her a gun for christmas and he would take her to the range all the time so she can SHOOT. that girl is goated at lazer tag she gets down…does not play

- thought that candy cigarettes were the coolest thing ever when she was little… everywhere she went she had one hanging out of the side of her mouth and shed hold them between her fingers like they do in movies. if you two go to a candy shop shes for sure buying a pack

#loser!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou

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cher-rei · 3 months

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Heyy,

Could u write a Jamal Musiala x reader fic

Where they are both on vacation and just go swimming on the beach but she doesn’t like swimming because she fears deep water,so he helps her

and he propose her later ,at dinner

I know it’s kinda kitschy

xoxo

bottled up– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

I will always love you [godsped– frank ocean]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: a much needed trip to the maldives ends in a wave of emotions and unforgettable memories.

genre(s): fluff and a whole lot of emotions, suggestive content but it's chill

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: screaming. crying. throwing up. me when????

your jaw dropped at the breathtaking sight of the resort in front of you. jamal had surprised you with a trip to the maldives, saying that it had been so long since you too have been alone together without any interruptions.

and you were so glad that the thought dawned on him because the way that the sun soaked island looked from your hotel room was gorgeous. the azure waters, flourishing greenery, and the vibrant hibiscus flowers set a perfect backdrop for your much needed holiday.

jamal had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, eager to spend quality time with you without any pressure. he shut the door to your suite behind him, a smile on his lips as you gawked at the view from the window.

"this view is making me emotional," you joked and took a few pictures of the sunset scenery.

jamal hugged you from behind, letting his chin rest on top of your head to admire the view and appreciate the feeling of you safe in his arms. "yeah?" he laughed at your eager nod in response to his answer and gently peppered the crook of your neck with kisses.

you felt the featherlight touch of his lips start to roam, causing you to giggle. you shivered at his touch, absentmindedly tilting your head to give him more access. this probably wasn't the best thing to do at a moment like this, especially when you still had unpacking to do.

jamal's kisses grew more insistent, his hands roaming over your body and you turned around to face him, needing more. your lips met instinctively, your fingers tangled in his hair which caused him to let out a satisfied moan.

taking this as a sign, he took a few steps back that had the two of you stumbling back toward the bed, your laughter mingling with the sound of the crashing waves outside. the energy between the two of you was playful, nothing short of a giggling mess. but you loved it.

"I know I said that I was tired when we landed." his kisses moved from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone. "but I think I'll be good for another hour."

disregarding your laughing state, he gently pushed you back onto the mattress, the playful twinkle in his eyes never leaving as he looked down at your smiling figure.

you covered your face with your hands in attempt to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. "an hour?" the shock in your voice made him smirk, and he pulled your hands from your face.

"baby, if you want two then I'll be more than happy to--"

"--jamal!"

the following morning, you woke up feeling more relaxed than ever. the atmosphere was enough to lull you to sleep for at least a week, but there was still much exploring to do.

jamal made sure to have you up and ready for breakfast in record time so you could be out for some sightseeing. his excitement for this trip was jarring and it warmed your heart knowing that he finally got a chance to rest after the season he's had back home.

it was filled with ups and downs and you recalled the evenings where he would come home from practice and lay himself down on your chest. no words were exchanged in moments like those, instead you'd gently trial your hand on his back.

in minutes you'd have him fast asleep with his head resting in the crook of your neck, his light snores of exhaustion tugging at your heart as a reminder of how hard he worked. all this at the ripe age of 21, so you knew that your role wasn't just to be his girlfriend, it was to be his support and home.

which was what you were doing now in your hotel room after taking a tour of the resort and eating lunch. jamal's grip tightened on your waist as he cuddled further into your side, basking in your warmth.

"I'd kill to have vacations where we could just lay like this," he muttered through a smile, a warmth spreading through his chest at the low hum vibrating from your chest. and he was just about to fall back to sleep when a wave of realisation washed over him.

he lifted his head to look down at you, flashing his trademark smile. "are you ready to hit the beach?"

you smiled back at him, though with a hint of apprehension. "sure, but you know how I feel about the ocean right?"

the ocean, or rather the depth of it was one of your greatest fears. you were one to appreciate the way it looked, and the beauty of the waves crashing and how it looked on the horizon but when it came to swimming in it, your chest tightened.

jamal understood this better than anyone and ruffled your hair teasingly. "don't worry, I'll be holding your hand the entire time. and we'll just dip our toes in, okay?"

screw jamal and his power over you, because not even 10 minutes later, you were on your way with a bag full of snacks, sunscreen, and a ridiculously sized inflatable flamingo that he insisted on bringing. when you arrived, the beach was everything you'd hoped for— clear waters, soft sand, and surprisingly empty.

your boyfriend wasted no time and set your things beside your lounge chairs, making sure that you were comfortable. before he got too excited you wave him over and took out the sunscreen.

"j, take your shirt off. you can't get it wet," you said and applied some sunscreen to your arms and legs. you were wearing a cute cream linen two-piece— shorts and a button-up shirt with your swimsuit underneath,

janal sat on the lounge chair with you standing between his legs, with a pout on his lips, clearly not wanting to put the sunscreen on. "you just wanted a reason to touch me, I know how you think."

you rolled your eyes as you smoothed the sunscreen onto his shoulders, just the sight of his toned upper body had your heart pounding but you couldn't give in.

he must've been tipped off by your lack of reply though and took it as an invitation to tease you further. there was silence as you applied the last of your sunscreen but your breath hitched at the feeling of jamal fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

not having any of, you gently slapped his hand away. "we're done here, thanks."

to your surprise, he gladly took his leave and made sure to drag the flamingo to the water. after 10 minutes of relaxation and peaceful sunbathing, he called out to you, saying that it was time to get in.

you happily declined however, and said that your presence and the fact that you took of your shirt and shorts was enough as is. there was no need for you to get in the water instead, you stood on the water's edge and watched as he played around.

"but the flamingo is lonely without you," he whined with a pout, bringing the flamingo floaty closer.

you shook your head and kicked the water beneath your feet, which sent an unwanted chill up your spine. "no thanks. I'm fine over here."

jamal was a baby at times like this, where he would whine and beg because no matter what, he knew that you'd give in eventually. he came up to stand a few steps in front of you, the floaty still at his side.

"come on baby." he extended his hand out for you to grab. "for the flamingo?"

what was up with him and this famn flamingo?

with a deep sigh, and a roll of your eyes, you relented, watching as his eyes lit up. "fine, but if I drown, it's on you."

"deal," he said and took your hand in his, slowly taking a few steps further into the water. "I'll even throw in a free cpr lesson."

a scoff left your lips and the two of you continued to wade into the water which was now resting just above your knees. the comforting grip of jamal's hand on yours made the situation ten times better and you found yourself enjoying the feeling of the water on your skin.

"see. this isn't so bad," he said and lightly splashed you with some water and you splashed him back.

it took a bit but you were more or less fully covered by the water that was now resting at your chest. you floated around on the flamingo calmly while jamal stayed at your side in the water. it was more relaxing than you thought it would be, and you quite enjoyed the feeling.

as the afternoon went on, the two of you enjoyed the water, had fun with the flamingo and took a bunch of pictures with it, and laughed until your sides hurt. by the time the sun began to set, you were both comfortably bobbing in the water, watching the sky turn into a masterpiece of warm hues.

a few days later, you and jamal found yourselves back at the beach, this time with a picnic basket and a sense of excitement. the flamingo floaty was noticeably absent, but there was a twinkle in jamal's eyes that you couldn't quite place.

after a lazy afternoon of sunbathing and snaking, jamal suggested that you should take a walk along the shore. you were a but suspicious at first since it was starting to get late, but agreed seeing as that you wanted to spend more time with your boyfriend in this setting.

as you strolled, hand in hand, jamal kept glancing around, seemingly searching for something. you took notice of this and couldn't help but wonder. "jamal what are you looking for?" you lightly nudged his arm and he turned to look down at you with his lips pursed.

"I have a feeling that the flamingo is following us," he deadpanned, causing you to laugh. his blank expression didn't last long though, and his focus was fully on how beautiful you looked.

the way that the setting sun reflected your complexion was awing and he couldn't help but stare, his heart pounding in his chest. you were breathtaking and it took jamal a while to realise that you were talking to him.

you waved a hand in front of his face. "hello? are you okay?"

he cleared his throat and smiled. "yeah, you're distracting me that's all."

a scoff of disbelief fell from your lips at his comment but you continued to face forward, your interlocked hands swinging at your sides. the stroll continued for a bit but finally he gasped and directed your attention to something.

"it's looks like there's something in it." you squinted, spotting the bottle bobbing in the gentle waves.

jamal who couldn't contain his curiosity ran to the waters edge and picked up the bottle, inspecting it before attempting to remove the cork. he was struggling by the looks of it, and waved you over to help him.

you rolled your eyes but joined in, both of you tugging at the bottle until jamal finally popped it open, almost falling over in the process. he laughed sheepishly as he handed it over to you with a sigh.

"open it, I'm too tired I need to catch my breath," he said dramatically and took a few steps to dramatically fan himself off. you watched your boyfriend with a disapproving look as he walked off but gave in.

you uncorked the bottle and pulled out a piece of paper, laughing at how this was probably something like a few kids did a while ago. nonetheless, you unrolled it was a smile until your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

the paper read, "will you marry me?" but what confused you was that it was obviously in jamal's handwriting. "j, wha--" your sentence abruptly came to a halt when you turned around to look at your boyfriend who was dropped to one knee, holding up the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen.

a knot of emotions formed in your stomach and you were honestly about to throw up. words were lodged in your throat, your gaze softening as you looked at jamal who was nervously smiling. "I love you. I am, who I am because of you— you are every season, every hope and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens in the future, everyday that we're together is the greatest day of my life."

the tears were falling down your cheeks in record time, but you tried to wipe them back as jamal carried on speaking and all you could think of in that moment was how much you loved and appreciated every single thing about him.

a small chuckle left his lips as he watched you blink away your tears. "I have so many things to say right now but you're making me nervous-- seriously you look so gorgeous right now." the trail off was unintentional and after a beat of listening to you laugh, his heart swelled.

"just like the grains of sand that make up this beach, you make up every part of me. so before I start crying— will you marry me?"

your heart raced, a of laughter filling the air as you didn't waste a second to nod your head with an excited "yes, of course I'll marry you!"

jamal slipped the ring on your finger, picking you up and spinning you around as you both laughed. he set you down and kissed you deeply, the waves lapping at your feet as you sunk into the sand and the feeling of utter bliss.

it was when you pulled away that you heard a few more familiar screams echo through the air causing you to look behind you. at a nearby rock, sophia, aaliyah, kai and florian appeared. they were carrying— of course— the flamingo floaty, now decorated with flowers and a banner that read, "she said yes!"

you burst out laughing and looked at jamal who pulled you closer to his chest, kissing the top of your head. "I told you the flamingo was following us."

#cherrei writes #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala #jamal musiala fanfic #germany nt #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #euro 2024 #football imagine #bayern munich #musiala x reader

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delicrieux · 14 days

Text

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. he's more sensitive than he looks.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 3.5k author’s note. just wanna say a big thank u to everyone that stuck w this story and loved it along w me. there's still one chapter left, so here's some mini angst before our little happy ever after. also, i've recently realized that nothing actually happens in this story. there's no plot. you just hang out with gojo and the rest. that's it. no great fights or conflict or anything. just spending time with him.

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | < back | next >

CHAPTER 13: the hakone incident

you wake up smothered in an embrace, which isn't uncommon.

what is slightly more uncommon is that gojo is wound around you so tightly that even his dumb, big paw has got your breast held hostage. not much there to sink his claws in, yet sunk they are, still. you wiggle and grasp and dig, trying to extricate yourself from this prison, but the soft fabric that rubs against his crotch with every small movement has him hissing in your ear.

“sa-”

“mine,” is the first thing he mumbles, words laced with sleep. he cradles you tighter, hides his face in your hair. you pat his arm, ignoring his sleep-addled state.

some sort of half-coherent mumble is slurred into your pillow as a response.

“not gonna bother translating that,” you utter under your breath – it’s too early to be irritated with him, and he doesn’t deserve it also, since he is much too cute. however, “lemme go? i need to go to the bathroom.”

“no,” he stubbornly refuses.

“don't be like that.”

a soft groan, then a kiss to the exposed curve of your neck, and one more to the edge of your ear. his fingers twitch at the flesh, kneading and tickling, “fine, i need to go too. let's go together.”

“you wanna hold hands while i'm in the stall or something?”

“yes.”

he is unreasonable, but that’s hardly a surprise.

you disentangle your legs from his, untying his arms from your torso, then turning to sit up properly. instantly, your stomach flips. in the bleak, early sunlight, gojo is the first thing you focus on, sleep-dazed and smiling lovingly in your direction. cheeks creased and swollen with grogginess, hair a complete mess, eyes still crusted. you wipe a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth with your thumb.

once, he told you that he always sleeps the best when you’re sleeping next to him. maybe that’s why he’s so clingy, “morning.”

“yeah?” he mutters. one hazy eye blinks, then the other, and you can’t help grinning at the sight, “hi. hello. good morning, how are you? ‘m just the guy you're looking for, can i be of service?”

you try so hard to press your lips into a thin line, but instead they stretch more and more, “c'mon, up. long day ahead.”

you had expected to take the morning train to hakone, but instead, with your bags dutifully carried by a lanky idiot, you are led to sleek, black car parked inconspicuously close to jujutsu technical. suspiciously, you eye the tinted windows of the driver’s seat, expecting a personal chauffer – which would be way too much, but also quintessential gojo. when the car keys jingle in his hand, you blink stupidly, smothered under the sunlight.

“you have a license?” you blurt.

“yeah,” gojo says smugly, opening the trunk and dumping the bags inside, “to kill.”

“the circus must be missing their clown,” you state sharply, though you feel a bit silly for not knowing such a thing about the man you have spent 3 years hating and a few months liking enough to be willingly glued to his side.

he snorts, fixing his glasses and shutting the trunk. all suave and cool, he opens the passenger’s door for you, “got any red lipstick in that little purse of yours? could kiss my nose a bunch of times, see if it honks after.”

the urge to shove your elbow into his stomach and watch how he doubles over in pain is almost too tempting, but you resist. after all, you do have the mind to enjoy the view of his flexing arms as you enter the vehicle, the sight disappearing as he circles around to enter from the other side.

the interior smells nice and new – it’s definitely expensive, but your knowledge of cars begins and ends in that they have four wheels and roll fast when you press a pedal. you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off his person, especially as his hand glides along the steering wheel. it takes a few moments of useless fiddling and some gears shifting until he begins driving. his hand seats itself upon your thigh, as though it had always been its intention.

“seatbelt,” he reminds, easily maneuvering out of the parking lot.

you slide the black band across your chest, buckling the lock, “thanks,” he mutters, palming your leg for good measure, “safe and sound.”

then, he slams the accelerator so quick and hard you're thrown back into the plush seat. the car screeches like a furious beast wrongfully insulted, engine purring loudly as its owner cackles. oh no.

here is where you learn that gojo is a terrible driver, as the speed limit is more of a loose guideline and traffic laws do not exist. he speeds past red lights that have you clutching the handlebar for your dear life, and he seems to delight in your mortified expression each time his eyes stray from the road, which is too much to be considered safe.

miraculously, you make it past the confusing and intricate tokyo streets in one piece and breathe a little easier. that is until you get to the highway, and he zooms between lanes like he’s playing a video game, jumping between cars and testing the limits of your patience to a level so extreme that you can hardly take it.

“could you slow down a little?” your voice has acquired a tremble, and you must be paler than you have been when you awoke. you think he’ll ignore you over the music, but he doesn’t.

he eases up just a little, and you remove your hand from the handlebar. it’s numb and tingly and aches from holding so tightly.

“i have some cds in the back,” he says, pinching your thigh. you think he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, but unfortunately, it’s comforting, so you allow it. if you crash, you decide you will grab him and shield yourself with his body – his infinity will stop the impact, and you’ll probably live.

you twist and dig around, and once the cds are safely in your lap, your brows shoot up, “kat-tun?”

his lips stretch into a cheeky smile, and all of his grievances are forgiven with that, “they have a few good songs.”

“all of their songs are good!” you defend hotly. still, today is proving to be one surprise after the other – did he seriously listen to their whole discography because it’s your favorite band? if yes, that is very sweet. if he’s lying, well, you will not fight for the truth, because this has made you happy.

you change the music with barely contained enthusiasm and hum along. your initial impression must’ve been wrong, because gojo knows what he’s doing. he always does, and you reward him with a sweet smile for all of his efforts, which inspires him to lean for a kiss that nearly steers you both off the highway.

the first place you visit in hakone is not the hotel room gojo has rented, but the mall. you locate an expensive-looking restaurant and order your lunch – you, something modest and normal, and he enough to feed a family of seven. it’s always mildly fascinating to watch him chow down like his life depends on it, if not a bit off-putting.

“no one’s gonna take it from you,” you tell him when he slurps a noodle and almost chokes.

he glares at you over his shades, “shut up, ‘m hungry.”

you try to steal a piece from his bowl but he jabs your hand with chopsticks seemingly with the intention to break through skin. you yelp and shy away, wounded and afraid. he doesn’t even seem sorry.

he makes it up to you by treating you to coffee and a slice of cake, which he devours after you had a tiny bite. this is becoming a problem, but he looks very happy and doesn’t let go of your hand, planting quick, small kisses on the place he hurt, so you, once again, forgive him, as is the standard of your relationship.

shopping is next, and he steers you to each and every boutique that even marginally catches your attention. you pile everything you like on his arms, as though he was your personal assistant, and he, surprisingly, doesn’t complain. for the first half of you maxing out his card, he was stood outside the dressing room like a guard dog, shuffling back and forth, back and forth, waiting for you to pull back the curtain and reveal yourself so he could supply you with a verdict, which was always, without fault, “we’re buying that.”

he grew bored, though, and started whining that his feet hurt. invited himself inside and sat on the small chair in the very corner of the cramped space, very attentive when you changed in and out of your clothes. he even helped with the zippers and the buttons, and eventually, he got a boner from all this touching, so you had to stay for another good 10 minutes till he calmed down.

the blaring white lights, and you sweating. you stare at him, disappointed. he looks mildly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and trying not to look at you, the mountain of clothes you discarded heaped on his lap.

“what am i gonna do with you?” you wonder aloud with a small sigh.

“i can’t help it. you’re hot.”

by the end of it all, you have acquired new perfume, a new set of luxurious makeup, and too many clothes to know what to do with. he carries your bags without you having to ask and leads you to get new underwear, but you make him wait outside the shop for that since you’re not risking another incident again.

when evening dwindles into night, he suggest a car ride around the city. the ocean breeze ruffles your hair when you roll down the window to admire the watercolor sights around you – the buildings, the people, the greenery, the mountain peak pitch black against the backdrop of the sky. you drive around aimlessly, and he's more subdued and mindful of the signs and the blinking traffic lights, his hand leaving your body only when he needs to switch gears. it always comes back with a little knead, and it always makes you smile.

“look, they're preparing for the festival,” you tell him as you pass by a closed off street of decorated stalls and convenience stores that look like they have been closed for the night, with two police men stationed across the entrance.

“you've ever been to lake ashinoko?” he questions idly.

“nope,” you turn another corner, the streets a little quieter, “it has the big torii gate, right?”

“yeah,” gojo hums, “we'll go there to watch the fireworks,” he seems distracted, “pretty stuff.”

“looking forward to it,” you reply, too interested in a display of colorful confectionary and sweets to decipher the tone of his voice, “where are we heading to?”

“dunno,” he mutters, knuckles slowly relaxing, “just around. you wanna head back?”

“nah,” you glance at him, a brow arched in curiosity. he looks oddly flushed. “you seem a little tired. wanna stop?”

“always worried about me,” he clicks his tongue, “’m a big boy.”

you pause for a moment. getou's words spring to mind, and you feel a bit nervous.

he's more sensitive than he looks.

maybe now's not the best time to bring up the clearly crumbling state of his best friend, but uncomfortable conversations don't have the luxury of waiting, nor do they ever fit into the right moment. you chew on your bottom lip in thought, as if the words would make themselves known without any effort from your part, but you find yourself no longer stuck on getou's haunting look but rather the way gojo seems a bit off his usual cheeky and snarky self.

you want to be a good friend. you care about both of them, and it hurts, in an odd, dull ache somewhere in your chest, when neither want your help.

is it so wrong to worry about gojo? you have come to terms with the idea that you like him, like him so much that sometimes, you feel half-crazy with a need to be by his side, constantly and without interruption, like today, like, hopefully, for many more days to come.

still, you are aware of the many walls and barriers he has erected to guard himself. and you, the person that likes him the most and has his attention almost at every given moment, still understand very little of who he is. you don't want to linger on the question if you ever will.

you must take example of haibara's endless positivity. step by step. even slow progress is still progress.

“i worry about everyone,” you eventually offer, more somber than you originally intended. still, it gets a faint snicker from him, and your cheeks puff with a mixture of amusement and relief. “you're not special, you know.”

“i hope that isn't true. i'd be crushed,” he teases back.

there it is. the little deflection that always makes you smile, despite how obviously it diverts from what's truly on his mind. it's a defense mechanism, you reckon. that said, you are not unaware that he has offered you little hints here and there, things he would only disclose in the dead of the night in the hush between soft laughs and your pillows.

without staring at him, you take a deep breath. heart light and fingers threaded against the seam of your shirt. here it goes, you tell yourself.

“i didn't used to worry so much, to be honest,” you confess, hoping he will at least listen before undoubtedly cutting you off, “but, i guess recently, i’m starting to see things from new perspectives. i know you don’t need it, but i still—”

he makes a sharp turn that doesn't seem coordinated enough, and suddenly, a stop-street opens to the left, overlooking a rocky beach and calm waters of the vast stretch of hakone's inlet. gojo parks dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and lets the air settle.

“honesty hour?” his smile is familiar to you, perhaps a bit too bitter to your liking. “alright. if we're playing this game, then i'd say that worrying is dumb, especially if it’s me you’re worried about. really stupid, actually. i don’t see the point in getting emotional over shit like that.”

“well, it’s not being emotional, it’s just—”

“no, shush,” he squeezes the length of your leg. you blink down at where he's touching you, and you look up when you realize he means to have the attention for just this. “look, what i'm saying is, i’m me, yeah? you can call me conceited all you want, but it’s the truth. i mean, i, okay, fine, fuck it,” he sighs, like he's annoyed, and you're just as grateful you can't fully see his expression as he likely is of yours, “a weak heart is not something to particularly proud of. i'm not someone that requires babysitting.”

this is likely the first time he has ever been so upfront about anything in his life, ever. maybe getou has seen this side of him, but even if that was the case, you'd never know for certain. you don't, however, appreciate the slight anger in his tone.

“no one's babysitting you,” you placate, careful to test his reaction before continuing, “we spend almost all of our time together, how is this surprising? and i don't think anyone would make an argument against you being the strongest, but you're still a person.”

you wonder when his hand slipped from your knee. he doesn't react for a good few seconds, as though gathering his thoughts, though you suspect, whether he was or not, this is not something he intended to dig deep enough to expose.

“well, yeah, duh,” he responds obtusely, but he offers nothing more.

this has gone about as well as you've expected, which is to say it has gone terribly, and it’s all his fault, because you were intending to go in a completely different direction.

“still a person,” he utters, and now he definitely sounds irritated, “the hell's that supposed to mean? you think i'm gonna roll over and let some curse get me or something? are you stupid?”

your stomach lurches like he has landed a heavy blow on it, and you need a moment to swallow past the ugly burn in your throat that your entire face stings with. somehow, what irks you the most is that you are hurt he would assume that you, of all people, would ever force something he doesn’t want onto him, as though the thought itself has made you a villain in his eyes.

as though stating a simple fact that he is human too is somehow insulting, somehow a threat to his title as gojo satoru and each and every connotation that comes with that honored name.

you have never asked him of anything. he's the one that started picking on you first, physically imposing himself into your life. he's the one that changed over the years and started showing new sides, he's the one that begs you to go on trips with him and buys you things and likes to hold you as he sleeps and complains that you make him horny even in situations that really call for tender affection instead of sexual advances.

you don't even ask him to like you like you like him, since you know that it would be met with harsh rejection. he would take it as a demand, no doubt, to be on your level – someone weak-hearted. his emotions have proven to be more volatile than his actions, and perhaps you’ve accidentally stumbled into something a bit out of your level of expertise. you can't brush it off with a snide, vaguely amusing remark like you usually would, nor do you want to.

you’ve changed, too.

still.

his hand is back as a vice around your knee. your jaw clenches.

that was uncalled for.

“you're being mean,” you mumble, your words hanging stale between you.

he sighs after what feels like an eternity, sounding long-suffering and tired, “sorry. that came out wrong.”

“you've just started a fight for no reason.”

“what, you crying? tough luck, maybe try being—”

“fine,” you don’t let him finish, unbuckling your seatbelt, “sorry for getting so emotional. see you at the hotel.”

“what?” he snaps, head swerving in your direction with a new, searing glare, “no. jesus. just. no. what?”

“i’m heading back,” you insist, but you are stilled in your attempts at fleeing by his hold. it'll bruise if you really want to test how badly he's going to grip you, probably, but this unexpected argument has really shaken you. he's only ever been this prickly at the start of year two, when the sight of you invoked some long-simmering resentment that he showed by cowing at you from each and every corner, like some hellish echo, “let me go, please.”

“hold on,” his fingers dig, and despite how you try to swat at him, he doesn't budge, “there's no need for this. i'm sorry, okay? don't get out the fucking car, for fuck's sake, i'm serious.”

“satoru,”

“no,” he snarls, the sound sudden and vicious that you flinch from its force, “i said, no. i don't—you're not going anywhere. i'm sorry, okay, i'm sorry, i'm an asshole, i know, but just, just listen for a sec.”

you slump against your seat, lips pursed and arms tightly crossed in a way you know he finds childish but that, unfortunately for him, is a legitimate response to his infuriating behavior. to further throw him off, you make it very clear he does not have your attention, and that even if he did, it wouldn't do him any good.

you feel him slowly relax and tremble before petting at the little scratches he has accidentally carved in your skin in a way that lets you know he’s truly sorry. he lets out an uneasy sigh, fingers twitching every few seconds.

stillness. finally, silence, except for the wind that howls and the crash of the ocean below.

“i was talking bullshit,” he begins, the effort of it wearing him down to a barely audible, pathetic volume. “it's just, i can't... i don't know how, okay? that's the truth.”

“can't what?”

“you know,” he gestures ambiguously with the hand he isn't restraining you with, “there are certain expectations i gotta meet. i can't disappoint everyone. i mean, they wouldn't, i don't think, but... look, i'm sure you understand.”

“no, i don't, actually,” you snip, “i don't even understand what we're fighting about anymore.”

“i, just, it's, okay, whatever, fuck,” he thumps his head back against his seat, and the next words leave him in one big, excruciating spill, “i'm just not very good with feelings. this is all fucking crazy.”

like most secrets, they're out before he can reel them back. his lips slam shut so quickly that it turns into a tense line. you watch him, he watches you, and his face melts into something shameful. his eyes dart to the steering wheel and back, and you really hope he isn't planning on smashing the accelerator again to head face first into the rocks to escape whatever the hell is happening in this car.

“i'm not good at this,” he repeats slowly, painfully, as though you’re speaking different languages, “i don't want you to cry.”

“i'm not crying. i'm pissed off and i want to go home.”

“don't go home,” he rushes to say, “don't go anywhere. i'm not even sure where we are exactly, so just, calm down.”

“i can find my way,” you sniff irritably, and he suddenly looks utterly miserable, which you think is very unfair.

“christ, you couldn't even find the fucking bathroom in the mall, do you seriously think i'm gonna let you walk around alone at night cuz you're a bit angry with me?”

gojo really has a talent of saying the wrong things at the most right of times.

you scowl, “that's because i was following you!” yes, perhaps you did turn off your brain and mindlessly waddle after him, trusting him to deliver you to your desired location. is it a crime to be caught in the spell that is gojo satoru's enigmatic appeal? that should be considered a blessing instead of an inconvenience, surely, “don't patronize me. and if you don't quit being shitty, you'll be watching the fireworks alone, cuz i'm taking my ass to the first train and heading the hell back to tokyo.”

“sorry,” he bows his head, forehead softly smacking against your shoulder, “please don't go. i'm sorry.”

“sorry you went super shit on me?” you demand, still sulking, “or sorry you snapped?”

“sorry for... all of it, alright? i'll make it up to you. do you want new jewelry? you didn't get any. like earrings, or something. i'll get nice ones, okay?”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “huh? stop freaking me out. i sincerely hope you realize i don't hang around you to get free stuff. that's so shallow. do you even know me?”

“god,” he exhales heavily, like he's very, very close to banging his head against the wheel out of sheer exasperation. “i'm trying, you know. cut me some slack here.”

yes, you see he's trying his utmost best, and that's why you're already softening. but the sting still lingers. you will be gracious and assume that his attempt at buying back your affection was borne out of panic and is, overall, a genuine mistake, or maybe a show of something beneath the layers – who is he if not gojo satoru, the strongest, the richest, the prodigal son, the untouchable, unapproachable sorcerer? gojo doesn't deal with his mistakes gracefully. he overcompensates. he hides, and this time, he has failed to hide from you.

“and i don't want you to pay back the ice cream, either,” you finally mumble, tentatively reaching up to pet the mess of his fluffy hair as a show of good faith. an olive branch, because apparently, you will always possess a clearer mind than him.

he’s immobile for a second, and then he burrows even deeper into the material of your shirt, as though hoping to somehow melt away from it, and a heavy breath collapses out of him, “this is bad for my ego. don't ever take that control away from me. it's wrong. feels wrong.”

“fine. whatever. you win. happy? nothing happened, yada yada. friends,” you grumble.

“gross,” he groans, despite the clear warmth in his voice that makes your stomach flutter, “being a friend sounds a bit lame. but yeah. friends. and we're watching the fireworks tomorrow, yes? say yes.”

“okay,” you acquiesce, despite your reservations, “maybe.”

“yes,” he insists, stubbornly holding his position on your shoulder. he does, however, pout, and that lightens your mood significantly. “we are. right?”

“you have to be less annoying.”

“fine.”

“fine, and,” you start. you don't want to be cold with him, but you don't quite feel ready to let this go, “i want to sleep in a different room.”

he startles away from you like you’ve slapped him, “no. bad idea. forget it, it's not happening.”

“don't fight me on this, satoru,” you say, and his eyes widen slightly. “it's really not up for debate.”

“are you mad?”

“yeah,” you tell him, and it's true. “i'm not... mad-mad, but like. i need a little space.”

“okay,” he swallows thickly, like he doesn't like the thought of you so much as existing further than a ten meter radius from him, “got it. no problem.”

that must've hurt.

“just for today,” you assure him, “promise.”

he nods slowly. then, “can i… can i at least kiss you?”

you shake your head. no, not now. not yet.

“right, okay, of course,” he mutters emptily and sits back. with some space in between you again, you find his lack of warmth much more pronounced, not to mention the distance he puts there. for the first time today, when starts the car and shifts gears, the edge of his fingers doesn't brush your skin.

the drive back to the hotel is agonizingly silent.

additional author's note: i think dating gojo would be very difficult since he's so emotionally stunted that he can't express himself and he's too afraid to try. i think he would also have significant trouble being on the same level as someone he considers weaker than him (not in a bad way). the only reason he even formed a connection with suguru was because suguru, at one point, was also the strongest, and he was the only person that understood him on that level. reader isn't the strongest, and the connection she offers is really different than what he's used to. he lashes out, but he still apologizes sincerely. i also thinks he takes her for granted, much like he takes getou. he's supposed to be in control because he's the strongest, and he's likely troubled about his own feelings, that's why he's so frustrated.

don't be too angry with him, he's really trying :(

but anyway, stan kami-chan because she is a baddie and if a baddie threatened to leave me i'd be clawing at her begging her to stay too

tags (bold couldn't tag!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee ,

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k-atsukibakugou · 11 months

Text

𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

do something, babe, say something | k. bakugou — k-atsukibakugou

the first time you tell katsuki you love him

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (no pronouns used) w/c: 2.0k warnings: angst teehee, communication problems, self sacrifice notes: IM SO SORRY THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT ANGST BLAME @t-tomuras jkjkjk i appreciate u for babbling with me about this <3 (also fuck 1989 (tv) for doing this to me, mostly say don't go lmao) crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

katsuki bakugou’s love language was food, he’d never really said the words in his life, not even sure he could configure his harsh tongue into such a soft shape, he always imagined the words coming out garbled and alien. in the months knowing you, he didn’t need to tell you he loved you; it was in the hot, steaming dinners, sweet chopped fruits, in the coffee he’d make when he was getting ready for the gym, and even your glow when he’d bring you snacks he spotted in convenience store windows.

you’d never said the words, but you would feel his adoration everywhere; bathed in yellow candlelight in restaurants, beaming when katsuki gestured at your menu, calloused fingertips pointed at the meal he knew you’d love, even letting you sneak a bite of his own dinner, acting like it didn’t make his heart swell to have you inching so close.

“if you wanted this, you should’ve got one yourself.” he’d grumble, snapping his chopsticks over yours.

“i don't want my own, i want yours.” your smiling lips had his heart fluttering, mumbling a venom-less insult under his breath, sliding you the dessert menu to pick one to share since you were so determined to eat his food, always gruffly denying the waiters if they offered a second plate. he liked it more when you both leaned towards the middle of the table, the intimacy of being so close, so cut off from everyone else in the restaurant, knowing no one there was as in love as he was.

you used to feel it in his kitchen, too, warmed by the stovetop and his proximity. katsuki was never far away when you were cooking, claiming you needed to be supervised after you tried to use his carving knife to chop vegetables, his warm hand on your wrist, sliding the handle out of your hold with the chefs knife in his hand, handing it to you handle first, closing his hand around yours like a coach would in baseball, broad chest to your back, coaching you how to slice the food; his fingertips protecting yours from the blade while he confidently cut everything into perfect, even, slices.

now, you shivered, slamming the fridge door shut, the sound less and less uncommon, but still made him wince, tense shoulders lifting to his ears like a child watching fireworks while you’d leave the machine rocking. it was immature, you knew, to stomp, and huff around the kitchen, hoping you were rubbing a salty pain in his wounds for once instead of your own. your stormy eyes hadn’t met his tired ones yet, staring at the glass that still had remnants of his pre-workout in the bottom, and the cold coffee machine beside it, untouched by him this morning.

eerily silent, you switched it on without a word, pulling a mug down from the high shelf, your movements flowing like his used to; packing, tampering, twisting the handle until it locked, mug beneath to catch the near-scalding espresso. waiting for the coffee, you dumped various items on the counter top, every item landing with a dull thunk that had him cringing.

he pulled on his shoes, peering at you from the corner of his eye to watch you prepare your breakfast messily, food cut into uneven, butchered chunks, nothing like you chopped with his arm around your waist, a smile hidden in your hair. left with nothing to distractedly toy with now, he studies you entirely, the way your limbs drag, your glazed eyes stare at the mangled mess on the cutting board, entranced with bated breath, waiting for him to come tell you as such.

you stayed alone, only pulled from your trance by the sound of the machine to your right beeping.

“are you hungry?” your clipped words cut into the silence like a sword, expertly sharpened by weeks of this tension building; there was no sweet pet name, no gentle adoration, only sharp, jarring words, sounding more like the blond across the room than yourself.

“i ate already.” his voice comes out raspy, scratching painfully at his throat, the lie desperately clawing its way from his lips. his throat closes before he can mutter an apology he didn’t mean; he wasn’t sorry for being a hero, he wasn’t sorry for being number one, he wasn’t sorry for doing what needed to be done. he was just sorry.

he doesn’t flinch hearing you slam your palm on the smooth granite counter, the sound not nearly as painful as spotting the frustrated, angry tears collecting in your eyelashes, that had him recoiling.

“you haven’t eaten with me in weeks.” you haven’t kissed me in a week. you haven’t held me in weeks. you haven’t loved me for weeks. your voice hung in the air, thick with desperation for him to hear you, your unspoken words making his heart pang pathetically in his chest, your clenched fist on the counter squeezing the life from his heart.

your furious gaze is locked on your trembling hands, gripping the counter like you wanted to fracture it apart in your hands, for it to crumble with you, for something to be broken with you. katsuki's mouth is in a tight line, a mirror of your own grimace, when your wild, furious eyes meet his, staring him down, searching his ruby eyes for the truth.

hes silent, choked, impossibly still like you were a delicate bomb seconds away from exploding into minute fragments, never to be put back together the same. his silence making you want to scream at him, to maul him, to tear him apart, to suffocate him until he gave in and fought back.

“just say something, katsuki!” you slam your fist down on the counter, the pain that came hand-in-hand with passion shooting from where your hand connects with the hard granite, nothing compared to the pain twisting your insides, ripping you apart at the atoms.

god does he want to, he wants to cry out, he wants to call you an idiot for thinking he didn’t love you, that he didn’t need you, for thinking he wants to make you miserable instead of wiping your tears, to protect you from this pain. he has to, you’ll heal if he didn’t keep ripping your scars open, leave you bleeding out alone in his bed for the umpteenth time this month.

“what? what do you want me to say?” he sounds exasperated, tired of fighting, sick of empty promises; that he’d try harder to make this work, he’d come home before you fell into a deep sleep in a cold bed, arms wrapped around a pillow that just barely smelt like him, for him to never leave dinner before you could split dessert again, to acknowledge you.

“anything?! say fucking anything!” you throw your hands up, white hot anger coursing through your veins at the indifference on his features.

“i love you!” you try to scream but your voice only shakes, a palm slapping over your mouth to muffle a sob.

he frowns, a muscle twitching in his cheek and his jaw tensing hearing you say it, flowing from your lips with an ease he can’t imagine; your voice is broken, desperate to hear it back, even if it’s only once.

he stays silent, the foreign confession dying on his tongue.

you can’t tear your wet eyes away from him, studying his features like your life depended on it, watching his jaw tick while you waited for him to respond, to passionately yell back at you, to call you a dumbass, to tell you he loved you with the same intensity, too.

you were stuck waiting for him to do something.

you laugh, a watery, joyless laugh, your frantic eyes darting around the ceiling, tight fists at your side, refusing to look in his eyes and find the apathy you couldn’t stand to see.

“tell me not to go, katsuki, say something, say anything right now to make me stay.”

he studies your face, still soft and plump from sleep, his hands itching to cup your soft cheeks in his hands, to swipe his thumbs over your eyes until they’re dry, to hold you to his chest.

“if you walk out that door, i'm not going to be here when you get back.” you’d always been dramatic but something told him you really meant it this time. one misstep and he’d lose you.

“fine.” it’s nothing above a whisper, the same soft voice that used to whisper his adoration in morning light, you tight in his arms, peaceful, happy in his hold instead of grey, lifeless, alone on the kitchen floor.

the man before you looked nothing like the one you fell in love with, his features flat, soft, no sign of his passion or anger, typically flashing garnet eyes dull, lips in a colourless line instead of a snarl, white teeth on display while he yelled. this man was silent, uncaring. indifferent to you.

“that's all you have to say?!” you’re screaming now, hands and eyes frenzied, eyelashes sticky with sleep and tears not yet shed, “i say i love you, and you say nothing?!”

katsuki sighs, twisting his blade inside you with a desolate shrug of his shoulders. couldn’t you see this was because he loves you? because he couldn’t bear to see you cry one more time? because his heart was yours in this life and the next, but he belonged to japan, he might not save everyone in this life, but he’d save you, even if it eviscerated him. so he stays quiet, his body pulling keys from his pocket while his heart shrieks at him to hold you, to pull you close until you felt his heart beating for you, to die here with you, to love you the way you needed him to, to land blow after blow on each and every last wall he’d built up around himself until he could touch you again.

in another life, he’d do whatever it takes. in another life, he’d stay

“please, don’t,” you say when he turns his back on you, his eyes squeezing shut hearing your wavering voice, “katsuki.”

your voice will haunt him, his name off your lips the only thing right in the world, the only thing that could make him believe in a god, someone who made him for you, dreading the day he’d forget the sound of your laughter, the feel of your lips against his, the scent of your skin; dreading the day you’d forget the look of his smile before it was drawn in a tight line, the sound of his voice mumbling sweet nothings, instead of just nothing. katsuki knows it's selfish to hurt you and push and push until you leave, just to cry about losing you, to let you claw at him and sink your nails in to hold him, while he leaves you without a single scratch.

he clenches his jaw so hard, he begins to worry a tooth will break, half hoping one will, maybe the shards biting in his gums enough to distract him from the pain. hot hands grip the doorknob tightly, not daring to say another word, knowing the second his lips parted, a painful sob would fight its way out from his chest.

the door swings shut behind him, latching softly, a sob tearing its way out of you the moment the lock clicks, your body falling to the cold floor of the kitchen, too weak to hold yourself up as your rage at him melted into despair.

the morning sun was already bright, warm, leaves shivering in the breeze, the world going on like his life didn’t just lose all its colour, like he wasn’t going to be stuck in this moment forever. you’d move on one day, you’d forget about this pain, you’d stitch yourself back together, you’d breathe in time with someone else, someone else to split desserts with, someone with time for you, someone better.

the thought of you in a bed warmed by someone else makes his stomach turn, but still he doesn’t turn back, a heavy foot taking a step forward, then another in front of the other, then another, making a silent promise this would be the last time he left you crying.

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

#divider by me #k-atsukibakugou #「mercury writes」#「kat <3」#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader

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soiwj · 3 months

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hiii! i rlly love your arle/reader baker au,,,,it’s so cute ueueue & i had a thought, what if arle got jealous of someone that’s suddenly rlly close & flirts w reader while she’s visiting reader’s bakery or smtg? that’d be a sight to see >:)

but again, thank u for writing such a great fic!

Omg wtf? That is such an amazing prompt i love you literally kiss me?

Jealousy's Delight

jealous!arlecchino x baker!fem!reader

Synopsis: Someone's starting to get a little too fond of our lovely baker, and Arlecchino seems to have a problem with that.

You just woke up, and your hair's a mess as you saunter downstairs to your bakery. It's times like these where you really appreciate living right above it. As you finish prepping all the boxes for Arle to carry, you set up your kitchen like normal, preparing for another day of sitting idly behind your store counter waiting for clients to order.

Although your customer frequencies and ratings have increased since closing a contract with the house of the hearth, it's a blessing and a curse. Not many people want to get involved with the fatui, but some people get curious and actually end up liking the sweets.

Normally, Arle tends to be a bit early when picking up the boxes, leaving right when your bakery opens, but today, it seems she's a bit delayed. Nevertheless, you set the baby pink boxes aside as you flip the open hanging on your glass door towards the open world.

After half an hour, the bakery is scarcely filled with a few people. Margret, sitting in the corner enjoying her croissant with a cup of tea and a surprisingly hard crossword puzzle. Judonte, another local, sitting in one of the couches enjoying his coff-

"..hello?" You hear an energetic voice tear you out of your thoughts.

"O-oh hello! Sorry, it's still morning, haha. What can I get ya?" You quickly recover from your slacking. Wouldn't want the new customer to be on your ass for not working hard enough. Weirdly enough, you don't recognize this one. His dark blue hair falls slightly over his forhead as his bright green eyes stare straight into your soul. "Wait, I haven't seen you before. Are you new in town?"

He looks confused yet pleased at your question. "Yes actually, I just moved here from Liyue. It's quite a contrast between here and there." He grins at you before looking behind you at the menu.

"Hmm, let me see, you have quite a lot of options. Are you the only one working today?" You look at him, slightly confused. "Oh no, I'm the only one that works here. I'm the bakeries owner." His face is painted with a surprised look as he slips back into his ever-confident demeanor.

"Wow, you set this place up all by yourself? You must be quite the talented lady." He smirks as he takes a swift look at the show-pasteries before turning back to you. "I must say, this croissant looks really delicious, but that's not the only sweet treat in here." He winks as he delivers his line almost theatrically, straight out of romeo and juliette.

"Well yeah its a bakery, we have more than just a singular tasty snack, haha." That pick-up line flew right past your head straight into his ego, oh my.

"Haha, I guess you're right. Maybe we could get coffee sometime?-"

"I'm afraid she won't have the time." The white and black haired woman says while gripping the mans shoulder. Tightly.

"And who are you to decide that for her?" The man looks into her eyes, defiantly. Not knowing that he just signed his death sentence. Everyone present is looking at him now.

Yet you are as oblivious as ever.

"Oh good morning, Arle! Let me get the boxes. Hold on." You excuse yourself as you leave them for a couple of minutes. When you come back, however, the previously defiant young man has turned into a scared shell of himself with the social potency of a wet napkin. You don't know what Arle said to him. And maybe you don't want to find out.

He quickly fumbles out apologies to you and Arle as he runs off.

"Huh, why'd he leave? I thought he was gonna order?" She looks at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Some people are just a bit eccentric."

Arle doesn't mind a little competition, but ones as pathetic as this one shouldn't even get the chance.

But Arlecchino is also a fair woman. So, for driving away a customer, she's given you a hefty tip for today's delivery. It's not like she wasn't planning on doing that already.

Its kind of short so im sorry about that but i really liked writing this one! Again thank you so much for the request!

#x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #i love arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin #genshin impact #baker #fem!reader #fem reader #female reader #i love women (maybe a bit too much)

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thebearer · 1 year

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I have a violent mental image of coming home from a girls night after ~a few too many bevvies~ seeing ur hot ass man waiting at home and being like ive literally been wanting to fuck u all night and carmy is like uhh baby youre drunk, we absolutely arent doing that rn, can i offer you a snack perhaps and him dealing w his drunk and now emo girl abt how he wont touch u so he clearly doesnt think ur attractive😭

Carmen had a love hate relationship with your girl's night.

Not in the asshole-jagoff protective "I don't trust my girl" fragile masculinity way, but more so in the- and Carmen meant this in the nicest way, he did- that you were a mess when you were drunk.

He'd offered to pick you up, waiting on the curb outside the restaurant while you hugged and waved your friends goodbye before stumbling over to his car.

"Your Uber's here." Carmen grinned, leaning over to push the door open for you.

"Oh, he's a hot Uber driver, too." You grin, plopping into the seat. "Five stars already." You rasp, your lips hovering over his for a sloppy, sweet kiss.

Carmen's blushing, tasting the wine you drank on your tongue. He can feel the flush in your cheeks, the way your hand threads through the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you. You'd been drinking wine, so that meant Carmen was in for a night.

The whole ride home, you were handsy. Carmen nearly crashed the car when you palmed his dick unexpectedly through his jeans, grabbing his groin with a tiny smile.

"C'mon," Carmen's breath hitched, gripping the steering wheel hard. "Let go of me, Angel."

"Don't be mean t'me tonight, Carmy, I missed you." You whined, lip jutting dramatically, head falling against the headrest.

"'m not being mean." Carmen looked over at you pointedly, already seeing your lids droop, the small puffs of air passing out of your lips.

"You are." You grumbled, eyes still closed.

Carmen snorted lightly, but let you rest, slumped against the head rest while he fought his way through Chicago traffic and back to the apartment.

There, you'd seemed to gotten revamped even in your sleepy state. Carmen was helping you out of your clothes, you sprawled out on the bed, letting him shimmy your top off when you wrapped your legs around his hips, locking at the ankles and pushing on his back so he was flush against you.

Carmen grunted, hands bracing by your head to stop him while you laughed wildly. "Hey, Carmy." You smiled, glassy eyes dazzling up at him, bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

"What're you doin'?" Carmen couldn't help but laugh, small and breathy, but you were nothing if not persistent. A woman who knew what she wanted, and Carmen respected that.

"Carmy, I told you." You whined, hands wrapping around his neck. "I missed you tonight." Carmen just laughed. You pouted, head swimming while the room spun around you. "I wanna have sex, Carm."

Carmen snorted at your bluntness, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, trailing light kisses up your arm so you'd release your grip on him. "How about in the morning? When you're feelin'... better." Better was the last thing you'd be in the morning, Carmen knew that, which is why he set out the Advil already.

"You're no fun, Carm." You pouted dramatically, flopping over on your side, still naked from his failed attempts to put clothes on you.

"Baby, please, let me put your sleep clothes on-"

"-No, it's...it's fine, Carm. I'm hot anyways." You mutter, eyes drooping shut already, snuggled into the soft pillows.

Carmen rolled his eyes, wrestling you under the covers before slipping beside you. He had to turn the other way, away so his back was to yours, hoping and willing his erection to die down so he could sleep. He couldn't help how flustered he got, knowing you were naked next to him, hearing you beg to fuck him. And he would, he would fuck you in the morning, when you were sober and a little hungover, clinging to him and claiming his dick was the best hangover remedy there ever was. But for now, he was just happy you were home here, next to him and asleep.

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #bearblahs #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx

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ultr6violnce · 9 months

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⋆·˚ ♱ dating euro hc's

nsfw & sfw ♱ ⋆·˚

note ; this is only based on rory's portrayal , this is nothing ab the real euronymous.

SFW ♱.

he will definitely ties ur shoes for u. he thinks it's a little embarrassing especially when ur in the den n' the whole circles watching as he gets down on one knee and ties up the laces on ur boots. he goes a little red when they all start mocking him for being so 'head over heels' but how could he not be head over heels for his beautiful angel? he eventually tells them to fuck off and helps u off of ur feet and leaves the den with you.

when you go out to bars etc n' it gets to the time of leaving it'll most likely be early hours of the morning by the time u leave n' knowing oslo it would probably be raining or some sort of shitty weather so to spare you the shivering n' whining of being freezing cold he lets you wear his leather jackets , letting himself suffer all so his beautiful girl is nice n' warm. also he just thinks you look absolutely beautiful when ur practically swimming in his jackets , although he'd never admit it.

he loves having you do his corpse paint before a show. he'll have you sat on his lap in the bathroom , hands on ur waist , thumbs rubbing over ur waist as u drag the brush gently over his skin. trying to hold back from doing anything further as he stares up at you watching as ur face contorts into one of concentration as you makesure not to mess up on his face paint so it's all perfect for him to look good whilst he's up on that stage performing.

i kinda thinks it's a little ooc for him but it's cute so bare w me. but i feel like he'd comfort you after a fight. especially if it got physical or he said something that went to far. you'd probably storm off to the bedroom , tears soaking ur soft cheeks n' after so many minutes of pacing he'd slowly (and very shamefully) walk to the bedroom and he'd sit next to you , not saying anything for a while before apologising profusely. his eyes would be all big n' desperate as tears threatened to spill from them before he'd eventually just put his arm around you then his other under your legs and he'd lift you into his embrace and just comfort you as you cried.

also a little ooc for him but anyways , he would bring you like flower bouquets for ur birthday or just when he's feeling like it. obviously he'd make sure he's alone when buying them not wanting his friends to know how affectionate he is when he's with you and he'd always get u ur favourites n' just show up unannounced at ur apartment and give you them. at first you thought it was strange , he never seemed like the affectionate type and in all honesty he was the complete opposite but there was something about you that just brough out that affectionate side to him.

since you'd most likely be smaller than him , if he ever went to give you a kiss and was just too much of a lazy ass to lean down to ur level he'd put his hands to ur waist n' would let you stand on his feet so ur more at his height. all that just for a little kiss.

NSFW ♱.

starting off strong. he cums so much when he fucks u. like oh my god. that man will cum BUCKETS. he will literally drain every single drop of cum from his balls inside you , once he pulls out he'd like give ur ass a really harsh slap , enough to leave a bit sting n' would just watch it all ooze out before fucking it back inside you with his fingers.

he'd always tease you , especially when he fingers u. he'd always makesure he'd have his rings on so when he fingers you the cold metal of his rings graze against ur walls as his fingers curl inside u and plunge inside you deeply.

he defo has a wax play kink. like js hear me OUTTT like he'd be fucking u n' after a while you'd feel this hot liquid pouring down ur ass cheek n' he'd just be pouring little trickles of wax over ur sensitive skin as his cock just pounds into u deeper.

kinda a hot take but um he loves cockwarming!! sorry not sorry. like he'd makesure you were sat on his cock nice n' perfectly , making sure you didn't move , slapping ur ass if u made one wrong move even though if you even moved an inch he'd cum straight inside ya.

he's also a big fan of public sex. like that man will fuck you anywhere , anytime. literally name any place and he'll be pounding you in it. e.g: supermarket bathroom (maybe even an aisle if he's feeling it) , storage closet at the studio they'd go to sometimes to practice , he'd even fuck you infront of the public eye. like say you'd be sat out somewhere where quite a few people were and he'd just have you shamelessly bouncing on his cock , not making it obvious but also obvious enough that it catches a few eyes.

he's so loud. no matter what you're doing to him or what he's doing to you. he's loud. which only really became a thing when he started dating you. you were just so good he can't keep that running mouth shut. he could literally be tongue deep in ur pussy and he'd be a moaning mess. like no matter what he's doing he will be moaning , groaning n' whimpering like a bitchhh.

a/n: finally came up w some stuff , it's not the best but i haven't written a full thing like this in what feels like forever so y'knoww i had to cuz i js love spoiling u guys so much!! plus I've been up all night watching PLL and i can't sleep so I've just been coming up with ideas and the boom this was created so i hope u enjoy angels. love u all smm!! :3

#rory culkin #i ❤️ rory culkin #smut #r!euronymous #lords of chaos #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut

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