#i mean c’mon y’know start liking things again!

[sunniepoo]

plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕

maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny

you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this

all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering

“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively

you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again

“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”

you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything

“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing

“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.

with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg

it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you

you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg

“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother

“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist

“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”

oh!

you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown

“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”

“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?

and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed

“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out

“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”

the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”

“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit

“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong

“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel

and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue

“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly

“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it

“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high

“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms

maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

[devildomwriter]

They Discover You Doodling Them in Your Notebook | Brothers x Reader

2k+ words | no warnings | GN! Reader

Lucifer

You sketched in your notepad as you listened to the teacher drone on about a subject you had little interest in. Every once in a while you’d glance over at Lucifer and it didn’t go unnoticed. At first, he suspected you might be looking over to make sure he didn’t catch you doodling and slacking off again but he left it be for now as Mammon was the bigger issue to deal with in class.

The teacher glared at you from the blackboard and tossed a piece of chalk your way. As a demon Lucifer knew the throw would be too hard and quickly intercepted it, glaring at the teacher and tossing it back hard enough the chalkboard broke.

Everyone in the class was paying attention now and mumbling amongst themselves.

“Silence,” Lucifer shushed them.

“We aren’t the ones making a big scene,” Asmodeus complained but was silenced with a single look from his eldest brother.

You were blushing at the commotion you accidentally started and tried covering your notebook but Lucifer quickly confiscated it to see what had your devoted attention.

He was momentarily surprised before he smirked and handed the notebook back to you which you’d covered in sketches of him.

“This isn’t art class, ___, please pay attention,” he said but to his brothers and you it was obvious he was delighted by what he’d seen.

After RAD ended he called you into his office and requested you draw some more, that way he could ensure he was the only thing on your mind as you spent time together that evening.

Mammon

Mammon was filling you in on his latest get-rich-quick scheme and to pay attention you began to doodle absentmindedly. You found it easier to pay attention when you weren’t being forced to and he knew this so he wasn’t offended by your doodling.

“Right, so if we pretend it’s some kind of charity—“ you cut him off and brushed a piece of his hair behind his ear. He blushed and jumped back.

“Yo! W-what was that for, huh?”

You went back to doodling and he huffed and walked behind you to see what you were sketching but you quickly bent over the notebook to hide it from view.

“Hey, c’mon!” Mammon griped and tried reaching for the notebook but he couldn’t do so without prodding you in your chest and the touch sent his hand flying back in embarrassment.

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to… seriously though what are you drawing?”

“Can you keep telling me the plan? I’ll show you after?” You encouraged so he puffed and gave in. He stood back in front of his projector and changed slides. He’s thoroughly prepared this scheme unlike some of his others. It was definitely illegal and Lucifer would stop him before he started but it was fun to listen to him so energetic and happy.

As promised when he finished, and he made sure to do so quickly, you showed him your notebook and he clutched it, blushing and looking away.

“D-damn, yer pretty good at this ___. Y’know I can model for you anytime right?”

“Would you consider nude modeling?”

“Would I—huh!?” He yelped but paused and hid most of his face with your notebook. “If-if it’s you…then yeah…I wouldn’t mind,” he stuttered and you smiled and nodded.

“Let’s get started right away!”

“Huh!?”

Leviathan

“LET’S GOOOOO” Leviathan cheered as he focused on his PC. He’d invited you to his room to cheer him on as he tried the newest level of his racing game.

He turned the steering wheel he’d hooked up frantically as the difficulty increased.

“Water,” he requested so you set your notebook aside and handed him his water, he sipped some through a straw before pulling back. “Thanks!”

You weren’t just a cheerleader, you made it your mission to make sure he stayed hydrated and didn’t get too lost in his game.

You didn’t find the game particularly interesting though so you began doodling him, anime-style, in your notebook.

He didn’t mind much, as long as you were there supporting him. He knew it wasn’t like he could have your attention 24/7 as much as he wanted it.

“Come on, almost there!” He muttered through grit teeth as he hyper-focused.

You drew his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel and made sure to capture the serious look in his eyes as he stared at the screen.

Leviathan quickly glanced at your notebook to see what you were drawing this time and the surprise sent him reeling so much so that he knocked his steering wheel off the desk and fell from his chair, immediately losing the game.

You jumped up in surprise and rushed over to help him up and comfort him but before you could he snatched up the notebook and you put together what’d happened.

“Oh—um!”

“Th-th-this is GREAT!” He cheered, his demon form popping out and his tail wagging in excitement as he hid his blushed face. “Y-you’re really drawing m-me? Are you sure you want to waste paper like that!?”

You shook your head and lightly slipped his cheeks as you cupped his face which startled him, “these are my most important pages in this notebook,” you said seriously and his blush turned into a deep red engulfing his body as he tried processing his happiness.

All he managed to stutter in response was “W-wow…”

Satan

You sat across from Satan on his couch as he read his latest book involving a detective and his cat sidekick.

Your heart fluttered whenever you saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. Occasionally he’d prod your knee to make sure he had your attention and read aloud a passage to you he thought was cute or funny and you’d giggle in response whether you felt the same or not.

You continued to doodle in your notebook, trying to quickly capture the smiles across from you. His face was so expressive as he read and he’d know if you pulled out your D.D.D. so the best you could do was quickly sketch it down and occasionally a doodle cat sitting on his head. You thought he’d appreciate it whether he saw the notebook or not.

You nudged Satan and motioned to your cup so he knew you’d be right back.

After you left he eyed your notebook and quickly flipped it open, tossing aside his book. He blushed and stared at the drawings. He was enamored with the cartoon cats but for once the cats weren’t the most important part, it was the fact you drew him. He noticed the pencil lines indicated you were sketching quickly, and they appeared darker around his mouth. He realized you were trying to capture his smiles and he made his heart flutter.

You nearly dropped your water in surprise when you found him flipping through your art. He was so entranced he didn’t even notice you walk in. Now you finally had a chance and before he could react you quickly pulled out your D.D.D. and snapped a picture.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus had insisted you keep him company that morning as his makeup was going to take longer than usual and he’d be bored. As the nice person you occasionally were, you got up early, and in an effort to keep yourself awake, you doodled in your RAD notebook but quickly ran out of ideas.

As you listened to Asmodeus explain his routine in detail and why it helped accentuate the beauty that was already there, you decided he’d be the perfect model and began sketching him.

You made attempt after attempt but true to his word it was nearly impossible to cloture his beauty so you decided a more cartoonish manner would be fitting so you weren’t pressuring yourself for detailed perfection.

At some point through the routine, Asmodeus noticed you weren’t paying attention to him and stuck out his lower lip in a pout. You didn’t notice until you glanced back up to continue your sketch.

“Oops, sorry Asmo. I’m paying attention, I promise.”

“Really hon? Because it doesn’t look like it? How can you possibly nit be enamored by me right now? I’m so beautiful what could possibly have your attention? Hm?”

You blushed but decided to prove yourself and handed him the notebook. His eyes lit up, practically sparkling.

“Oh myyyyyy!”

He gave you a soy grin after flipping through more and you had a feeling you knew what he’d ask. “Forget the makeup! Let me model for you! I want you to draw me au natural!”

Beelzebub

You sat on the bench in the RAD Fangol field as Beelzebub practiced with his rowdier teammates. Occasionally you’d look up to see he’d accidentally sent someone flying. He looked so guilty until they got up and reassured him they were fine.

Your D.D.D. battery was low and you didn’t want to seem entirely disinterested in the sport you didn’t understand well so you took out your notebook to try and take notes but they were cluttered and nonsensical so your mind wandered to doodling.

First, you doodled Beelzebub’s jersey number. Then stick figures of some of the poses he did. But eventually, you began trying harder to actually draw him. They weren’t professional by any means but you enjoyed trying to capture his overwhelming cheery presence.

You were so absorbed in your notebook that one of Beel’s teammates pointed out to him how studious you were and he knew that wasn’t the case so he jogged over to see what you were doing.

You noticed him when he was a few steps away and quickly shut your notebook and put it aside. You handed him his water bottle thinking it was what he wanted and bent over to get a towel for his sweat.

“___ what are you writing?” He asked you. You blushed and hid the notebook in your bag but upon seeing your flustered face, Beelzebub decided he had to know and reached for your notebook.

“Wait, it’s kinda embarrassing!” You protested but he took it out anyway as you didn’t feel like wrestling his sweaty arm away.

He found the page you were on and blushed, “o-oh,” he said silently as his eyes skimmed the page. His smile widened at all the doddoes and he thought the stick fugues were funny so handed it back to you.

“These are good! Let me show you some more cool moves you can draw,” he beamed and ran back out to the field to play.

Belphegor

Belphegor was drooling on his desk next to you and no one was waking him up because Beelzebub was eating and Lucifer was trying to get Asmo away from his mirror and Levi off the D.D.D. Meanwhile, the teacher tried hard to ignore it all and continue the lesson.

Poking Belphegor didn’t work and with no one to talk to you were bored and the arithmetic lesson tired you and made you feel like you really were in hell.

With nothing else to do and no worthwhile notes to take you started sketching the snoring demon beside you. Whenever he looked like his snore would be too loud, you covered his mouth to better hide him from Lucifer.

The bell rang but you stayed behind in class and promised to meet the brothers at the cafeteria in a minute. Knowing they’d be interested in sketches you lied and told them you were only taking math notes.

Many minutes passed and a somewhat realistic drawing of Belphegor filled the page of your notebook. You held it out to admire your work when it was taken by a half-awake Belphegor.

He looked at the page and smiled cheekily. “Wow, ___, that’s really good.” He complimented as he yawned and sat up.

“Where is everyone?” He looked around.

“The cafeteria.”

“Oh good, so it’s just us…how about you nap with me instead of sketching? I promise you can do that later at home.”

[laiiaaa]

Carmen eating you out in the mornings just as a little pick me up before he goes to workkkkk...

He kisses you awake first. Gentle ones: into the crook of your neck, down to your shoulder, the cusp of your jaw once you start to stir. A hand snakes up your shirt, teases by your navel and close to your sternum. You turn to face him, hook a leg over his hip, giggle into his mouth when a hand presses against your back and turns it into a pretty arch. 

Five minutes you’re awake and you’re already reeling for him—and that’s exactly what he wants. Your body soft and pliant beneath his, a hand gripping your thigh, sighs spilling into his mouth, hips rocking along with his before his lips begin trailing down your neck, to your collarbone. Lower they go to your breasts, giving them love and affection where it's more than due, his hands taking purchase of the give at your waist. 

You know what he wants.

“Later,” you tell him, even though you’re throbbing between your thighs and you’d do anything for him to help. “You have work soon.”

He’s still stationed at your belly, crystalline blue peeking up at you with his mouth leaving wet kisses to the skin, a finger or two trailing up your thigh like he wants you begging. “Jus’ lemme kiss it, baby.”

A good idea, maybe even a great one…

“You gonna let me?” Poised above you again, the bridge of his nose slides by yours, breath warm against your lips when you nibble at them. “You want me to taste you?”

You hesitate. Yes. “Just…”

He smiles.

“Just don’t be late for—mmph—” 

He takes you into a kiss again, heated and grateful, already leaking pre and soaking his briefs with it. “Yeah, he nods, “I got you, baby.”

And he makes his way back down your body, tracing your curves with his hands and lips and tongue, giddy like a fuckin’ schoolboy when he gets to the main course. Savoring it, relishing in the sight like he’s got all day to do it, he pulls your panties down, caresses your thighs as he lands between them, offers languid kisses to your cunt as he brings a leg over his shoulder and gets to work.

He teases you how you like, runs his tongue through sticky folds to get the taste he craves, and his cock is so fucking hard he’s nearly shuddering with groans into your core.

“Car—hah, Carmy…” Your back arches off the bed, keening into his mouth as rough hands keep your thighs spread. 

He looks up at you, lust-blown eyes and a half-smirking mouth. “What d’ya want, baby?” He kisses his way through your folds, dripping wet as his nose bumps against your clit. He doesn’t know how long he’s taken so far and he doesn’t find it in him to care, not when he’s got you right where he’d die to have you for days on end.

All you can do is whine, babbling your way through your thoughts. “You’re—mm, fuck—you’re gonna be late for work…”

“ ‘S fine…” He presses a finger inside, teasing, kissing your cunt. “Jus’ focus on me…” And his attention’s brought back to your center again, as it always is when he has you like this, splayed out on the bed all pretty for him. “Don’t worry ‘bout a fuckin’ thing…” He keeps you bucking your hips to meet his tongue, moaning his name and threading your fingers through his hair, gripping a little tighter to make him moan when he—

“Oh, f-ffuckkk—”

When he hits that spot with deft fingers. 

A heavy sigh escapes from deep within your chest, and Carmen has to close his eyes just so he doesn’t come at the sight. He smiles again, high on lust from giving you your pleasure, rolling his hips down into the mattress to get himself off as he coos at you between breaths:

That feel good, baby?

You like that? Yeah? C’mon, talk to me.

Taste so fuckin’ good, y’know that? Mhm?

And you’re stuck just writhing against him, fucked out and incapable of saying more than a few words at a time when he coaxes you into coming on his tongue. He’ll let you cool down, too, with a proud little smirk as his head rests against your inner thigh—he’s not mean, of course, just helplessly in love. Looks up at you, you with your heaving chest and sighing breaths, and is almost ready for another round. 

Slowly he lifts himself from the bed to kiss you, a hand smoothing up your waist. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhmmm…” You smile and nod, still on the come down, hazy as you loop your arms loosely around his neck. “And as good as that was, you need to leave.” Another peck to placate him. “I was serious when I said you’d be late.”

He pouts. “We have time—”

“No, Carmen, we do not. You have deliveries coming today.”

“Y-Yeah, I know, but c’mon—”

You give him the look: a stern, scary thing you shoot at him only when he’s being too stubborn for his own good. Any other day, you’d let him fuck you twice over before heading out the door, his schedule flexible enough for another hour, maybe two, at home. But with deliveries comes more rigidity. He knows this.

“Okay,” he concedes, though not happily, taking one more gentle kiss before he sits upright and rubs his hands along your thighs. “You wanna shower w’me?”

“Not today,” you sigh lightly, “Think I’m gonna sleep another hour or two. You got me all tired.”

He chuckles and shuffles out of bed, grabs you a pair of underwear that he carefully draws up your legs, helping you cozy under the covers again before fetching you a glass of water. Another kiss. And another, and another, littered between praises as he’s perched beside your end of the bed. 

Want me to bring you somethin’ home?

You’re so gorgeous, baby.

Gonna miss you…wanna stop by later? 

You’ve gotta give him a little extra push—a push that sounds an awful lot like ‘Carmen, if you don’t leave right now I’m not letting you eat me out tonight’—before he’s heading to the bathroom and getting ready for work in minutes. You’re half way to dozing off by the time he’s done, a post-orgasm wave of bliss washing over you.

And before he leaves, he’s sure to see you one more time, smoothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead with a quiet “Bye, baby” so he can catch that sleepy smile of yours. A sweet encoded thank you for being the best part of his mornings.

[genacity]

DAY ONE. FIRST TIME?

ft. gojo satoru — jujutsu kaisen (呪術廻戦)

your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. dom! gn! reader, first time sub! gojo, anal penetration / pegging, fingering, overstimulation, bratty gojo, slight dacryphilia, dumbification themes, hair pulling, spit as lube, established relationship, plot before porn

an. this came out way too long. anyways hope y’all enjoy day 1, some of the kinks listed on the ml did not make the cut bcs the fic would take 80 years to read and the intro is already cutting into my lifetime. also not proofread. anyways enjoy fucking gojo!!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

you and your boyfriend gojo satoru have been dating for five months at this point. your relationship is everything you’ve ever wanted in one; secure, loving, and honest. satoru is the most caring man you’ve probably ever met— though cheeky, he’s just as infatuated with you as he was when you first met.

not only is gojo amazing, but so is the sex. not to be a prude, but it’s true. he knows how to take care of his baby and never wants to leave you unsatisfied.

the only sour thing about your relationship is his teasing. especially in the mornings-after.

when you’re groaning, pressing down on a muscle in your back as you complained to gojo about how hard he went down on you the night prior. your boyfriend’s fierce laughter as he’s propped up on one arm, staring at you from his safety beneath the covers of your shared bed and messy hair.

“aw, c’mon, you know you liked it.” gojo would say as you kept prodding at your shoulders and legs. you’d shoot him a dirty look and he’d snicker loudly again. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. i’ll make it up to you today, i swear.”

one morning, your boyfriend had tossed his still-bare body over yours after a long session that night. face first into the pillow behind your head; long, spindly limbs sprawled out like a starfish on top of you as you both shared silly remarks about the long night you both had.

“y’know, one day, i’m gonna get you back for all the times you leave me sore like this,” you huffed, earning a muffle giggle from your boyfriend with his head in the sheets. “what? i’m serious.” you insisted.

gojo’s head snapped up to look at you. squinted blue eyes followed by another ugly little giggle. “uh huh, i bet.”

“what do you mean, ‘you bet’?” you scrunched your nose as your boyfriend gave you another mean chuckle through his big grin. “c’mon, y/n. you know you can’t top my skills.”

“now what does that mean?” you shot back, cocking an eyebrow at gojo’s funny expressions.

he hummed, thinking for a bit before turning his attention back to you. “you know i’m good at what i do. if you even tried to top me, you’d just end up giving up anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “not true.”

“what’s not true? that you’d give up, or that i’m good? because y’know, these fingers aren’t only good at sorcery—”

“yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.”

ever since that night, though, you haven’t stopped thinking about the idea. reversing the roles. it’s something the both of you had never tried before, but were you open to the idea. you just needed to make sure that satoru was, too.

but there was something different about tonight in particular that made you feel a bit more confident than usual.

it started off as it usually did whenever the both of you were in the mood. a handsy hello as soon as you got home from work; peppering your face with kisses and fingers pressing against your hips as you let your boyfriend lead you to the bedroom.

you’d barely be able to get a word in with the way gojo would welcome you home. lips quickly pressed together and without hesitation your back would be against the mattress and clothes discarded onto the floor.

“missed you today.” gojo mumbled into the kiss, lips sloppily trying to chase the pattern the both of you shared. hands gripping at your sides as he pushed you eagerly onto the bed.

as soon as you hit the bed you immediately grabbed at his arms and pulled him forward onto you. something inside you was pounding— pounding for tonight to be different than the rest.

you pulled gojo onto the bed, chest rising with heated breaths as a switch in your brain flipped. hands pushing him down beneath you, his back against the sheets as your boyfriend let out a breathy gasp.

“hey, what’re you doin’?” gojo mumbled, looking up at you through glassy eyes and white lashes as you reveled at the sight of satoru beneath you— a sight you weren’t used to seeing, but welcomed with open arms.

“you’re gonna let me take care of you tonight. okay toru?” you said, his eyes blowing wide and lips twitching into a small grin.

“take care of me?” he chuckled, watching as you slowly started to undo his shirt. “i’d like to see you try.”

you rolled your eyes as you pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. gojo watched your every movement, watching with interest as one of your hands quickly went to circle one of his nipples.

he shivered at your cold fingertips tracing along his chest, but laughed all the same. “what, ‘s this all you’re gonna do? c’mon, baby, let me just take care of you and— mmph.” gojo was promptly cut off when he felt your fingers press against the hard-on in his pants. a small smile crept onto your lips at the sight.

“hush, toru.” you muttered, palming him through his pants as gojo let out a strained groan. “this is what you get for being so mean to me all the time. leaving me brusied and sore.”

“you said you wanted it rough.” satoru panted, looking down at you as his long fingers started to grab at the sheets beneath him. “oh, i do.” you shrugged. “but now, it’s your turn to feel what i feel.”

your boyfriend’s breath hitched in his throat at the words from your tongue. he quickly gathered himself, clearing his throat to mask the whimper that slipped his lips. “you’ll just give up, y’know. you’re just gonna give into me and come crawling back.”

“that’s what you may think, but i know what i want.” you said, removing your hand from his bulge to reach for his glinting silver belt buckle. “you’re gonna take my cock and behave, just like i do for you. and if you don’t like it, you can say our safe word and leave.”

gojo gulped. he knew you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want. he was in the position to say no whenever he wanted to. but the thought of your thick cock splitting him open had him salivating; even if he didn’t want to admit it to his big ego.

“satoru.” your voice called him back, snapping him out of the trance he was in. he looked down at you, his belt already undone and ready to be pulled off. “color, satoru. tell me what you want.”

he swallowed thickly again, lips parting as he whispered. “green.”

you smiled softly at him, slowly pulling his belt from the loops as you muttered a slow “alright.” unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down alongside his boxers. his pretty cock revealing itself to you.

“already leaking for me, huh toru?” you snickered, the feelings of your breath along his dick making him twitch.

“still gonna break you, y’know.” gojo murmured. “you’re just gonna give up and beg me to fuck you.”

“whatever makes you feel better.” *you said plainly. the tone in your voice left him shivering. suddenly, you raised your hand to his lips and with no hesitation said, “spit.”

gojo blinked down at you, who was watching him expectantly. he parted his lips and let his tongue slip forward, spitting onto your fingers as he maintained eye contact with you. “thank you, toru.” you said, lubricating your fingers before you lined them with the edge of his hole.

he felt his heart leap into his throat when your fingertips prodded at his entrance. silently, satoru spread his legs to let you know he wanted you. and you seemed to understand his prompt, for almost immediately your long fingers slipped into him with ease.

“fuck, oh god.” gojo immediately hissed, clenching tight around your middle and ring fingers as they slowly began to thrust in and out of him. “oh my god.”

he watched as your hand worked at his insides; curling your fingers as the sorcerer finally allowed for small whines to slip past his lips. each sound left his stomach turning— the dirty sounds of his own hole clenching around his partner’s fingers making him shudder.

gojo was stuck at small whines of pleasure, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, until your fingers hit a particularly good spot inside him that made him cry out.

“ohn— oh fuck,” gojo whined out. “there. right, right there, that— ah!” he gasped when your fingers curled against his sweet spot, making him flinch and pulse around you. “‘s that feel good, satoru?” you asked, slowly thrusting your fingers in and out of his hole, taking note of the way his fingers curled around the satin sheets of your shared bed.

satoru nodded. his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths as he kept his eyes locked on you. “yeah. feels good. right there, feels so good…” he murmured. jolting back with every thrust of your fingers in and out of him, muscles tensing and relaxing in ragged patterns before you eventually pulled your fingers out.

“so messy.” you murmured, raising your hand to his mouth again. “spit.” and he did, right onto your fingers once more.

“i think you’re ready to take me, toru.” you spread his legs and began to undo your own buckle. your boyfriend watched your hands, every move closer to watching you reveal yourself making him almost shake with anticipation.

it wasn’t until you finally pulled out your cock did he realize how big you truly were. eyes blowing into saucers as he immediately began to blabber.

“you look so big!” satoru whined. “no way you’re gonna make me take all of that!”

“oh, i will.” you purred, pressing the head of your cock to his hole. he flinched, feeling your tip just against his ass as he went to protest again. “why can’t i jus’ fuck you like usual, baby?”

you laughed meanly at his words. “what, are you scared, satoru?” you asked, leaning in and simultaneously pressing your tip just against his opening. “scared i’m gonna break you open?”

“no!” gojo shook his head furiously. “i just- i just think you’re gonna get tired and give up.”

you sighed, staring down at your boyfriend with his big wide eyes and wet eyelashes. after a moment of bathing in his beauty, you grabbed hold of his thighs and leaned back. “color, satoru.”

gojo hesitated. looking from you down to his drooling cock that was just begging to be touched. his inflated ego kept hammering in his chest, but the feeling of your tip against his hole drove every thought away and left him squirming.

“green.”

“good.” and before he knew it, you’d forced yourself into him. a loud moan clawing its way through his throat and spilling from his lips as you began to pound into him, gradually picking up speed.

suddenly, that same hammering feeling in his chest immediately died out. as soon as satoru felt your cock sliding in and out of his walls, pressing up against his prostate with every thrust, his demeanor immediately unraveled.

“fuck— oh my— fuck, you’re so big!” gojo cried out. hands scrambling to ground himself as he gripped onto the sheets. “ah— oh— oh my fucking, please, y/n!”

you couldn’t help but watch gojo’s big blue eyes grow teary. rolling back into his head as you fucked him, forcing his legs back to angle yourself well enough to hit all of the right places.

“already all ruined for me, satoru.” you cooed. your words slipped into his brain and toyed with his thoughts, leaving him quietly whimpering as he felt your hands near his head.

all of a sudden, the cloudy feeling forming in gojo’s brain flickered as you took a handful of his hair and forced him to look at you. yelping as your fingers intertwined with his snowy locks and pulled his head up.

“what was that you said earlier about me getting tired and giving up, toru?” you asked, hips angling and pounding into him faster and faster. all he could do was hiccup and gasp, head subtly bobbing from the force of your thrusts combined with the weakening grip on his scalp.

“ahmm— ah, i don’t— uhn…” he stammered, too focused on the feeling of the head of your cock kissing his prostate with every thrust to make out the words you were saying. the fog in his head was coming back, accompanied by a knot tightening in his stomach.

satoru was panting and shaking. too focused on the heat in his lower abdomen spreading across his body. “i’m- it’s-” he stuttered out, words slurred together. his brain was rattling inside his head. too embarrassed to admit the fact that he was already about to cum his brains out to himself as you kept hammering his hole. “y/n, i’m gonna— haaah, oh!”

“gonna what?” you asked, thrusts growing deep and sloppy as you kept your quick pace. “c’mon, finish your sentence. don’t tell me you’ve already gone dumb.”

his vision grew blurry with tears, a few even spilling over and down his cheeks. the heat in his stomach kept burning, hotter and hotter as his brain tried to scramble for words to try and form a sentence. hell, even a word would be nice.

“ah, ahn, i’m— haah, ah, ah!” gojo began to squeal. your grip on his hair grew tighter as he completely began to forget you were even talking to him.

and suddenly, he was cumming all over himself with a garbled “cu— ah, aahhn!” his scalp burning from the force you held him up with, legs twitching as his cock bobbed with every stream of cum he coated his stomach with.

you slowed your thrusts as you watched him cum, but didn’t halt completely. as soon as he was done, you immediately began picking up your pace once more.

“wait, wh— fuck!” satoru whined out as you let go of his hair and flipped him onto his hands and knees. his head stuffed into the pillow that was once below him as you drove your cock into his hole with more fervor than before. “i- i just came! y/n, baby, i just-”

“i never said you could cum, did i?” you asked. immediately he shut his mouth, clenching around you with a loud whine. “you’re gonna keep taking my cock until i’ve cum. until then, you sit here and look pretty for me. is that clear?”

at first he didn’t respond. not until you grabbed hold of his hair from behind and forced him up again. “i said, is that clear, satoru?”

gojo eagerly nodded his head, panting and whimpering with your every movement. “yes. yes, ‘s clear! fuck me, please!”

you were going to have a long night.

[loveroffictionalmen]

hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)

Not So Tough

Pairing: Gally x fem!reader

Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.

Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk

Words: 651

Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope

A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO

“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.

“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”

“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.

“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.

“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.

“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.

Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.

“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.

“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.

“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.

___

“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.

“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.

“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.

“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.

Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.

“What was that for?” She breathed.

“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

[sunboki]

— TEASER

You and Han Jisung are the ultimate best friends. While he’s busy nerding away, you’re filling him in on the latest and greatest drama. That’s until he brings up crushes. And I mean, what’re you supposed to say when he asks you that? It’s not like Jisung’s your crush… right?

📓 » Han Jisung x f. reader

GENRE┊non idol au, friends to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers, two idiots being oblivious, fake relationship au, highschool au, angst, fluff, slowburn

WORD COUNT┊estimated to be around 5k-6k words

WARNINGS┊profanity, lack of communication, childish pettiness, stupidity at insane levels

AUG’S NOTES┊if you don’t have a date this valentines, just know we’re both in the same boat ☹️ hopefully some hanji will help!!

THE BOYFRIEND STATUS TAGLIST — OPEN

The first night of your downfall all started in mid-January.

All was well and had been going well, until it wasn’t.

You’ve known Han Jisung since second grade, starting with having to apologize for knocking over his castle and him proceeding to cry even louder in the sandbox, snotty in his red and white striped shirt.

You swear that shirt is still in his closet.

And when he was wimping away in a corner, you were the one that got him out of his shell. To this day you’re convinced you’re the first person to ever witness the true Han Jisung, who starts slapping things when he laughs really hard, who gets overly competitive during board games, who keeps hundreds of mind-blowing tracks he’s produced to himself, and who (you wouldn’t admit it) has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

Freshman year of high school you met Jisung again in your Geography class.

Initially, it took you a moment to recognize his face, having changed quite a bit over the years. And certainly not a bad kind of change. Although, his nerdy personality was all the assurance you needed to figure out it was him, apart from that he switched to contacts, grew his hair out more, and looked, y’know, “older.”

Older as in: what happened to you? ..Why are you so attractive?

But you won’t get too far into that.

Through the years he tutored you. Jisung had a knack for studying since day one, and despite occasionally looking like he could pass as a dropout (usually the week before finals), no one else could maintain better grades than him.

So, on a night both you and Jisung were slouched over your desk, procrastinating school work by rating people at school from most to least kissable, he turns to you, face halfway illuminated by your lamp.

“Do you like anyone?” Your boba-eyed friend asks while you aimlessly scroll through your camera roll in search of the photo you’d been talking about, mumbling a quiet “of course” in response.

Jisung makes an unconvinced noise and clasps his hands together, leaning forward.

“No like, like like anybody.”

Finally escaping your ‘rating people’s kissing-capabilities’ headspace and now entering into your ‘is this the question i think it is?’ one, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

It’s a strange question, not a Jisung-question, and you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer he stares at you.

You’ve never even thought about it really, so why are you so sweaty? Why does your heart feel as if it may just beat out of your chest, why is your mouth so dry?

Questions.

Clearing your throat and secretly praying it didn’t give away your piling anxiety, you feign a roll of your eyes, tapping your fingernail on the cool desk.

God, why are you so nervous?

“Um, nobody, why?” You retort, ignoring the scrutinizing squint of his eyes watching you.

It’s never like this. You’re the one that teases, gets him all shy, stumbling over his words. So now you suddenly feel like Jerry and he’s Tom.

Abnormal.

“C’mon, there has to be someone you think is cute,” He whines, and before you can stop it one word smacks you upside the head.

You.

“It’s Minho!” You shout, hurried and barely audible as if trying to tune out your inner panic.

Han looks stunned.

Han as in best friend, not crush. Right.

What were you thinking?

“..Min.. Minho?” He phrases slowly, evidently surprised.

Being completely honest, you’re just as surprised as he is. Minho is attractive, sure, but never in your life did you consider him like that.

Oh how you wished you could erase all of this from ever happening.

It doesn’t make sense. Because it’s not like you’re into Jisung. Or are you?

Nope. Nuh-uh. You were just caught off guard and unprepared. Not to mention it was an unexpected question, that’s all.

Fuck.

You like Jisung. There’s no point of lying to yourself anymore. From the start of seeing him again, those “friendly” gestures weren’t friendly anymore, they were intentional, pursuing. Walking from class to class together, constantly checking your texts, meeting his eyes only to smile like fools.

“Yep. Minho. That’s the guy,” Cutting each sentence shorter than the last, you nod fervently, avoiding his gaze.

Both soaking in utterly hellish silence, the tension was likely seeping through the cracks in your door at this rate.

He really shouldn’t have ever brought this up, and you shouldn’t have said Minho. So on the bright side, at least you’re both at fault here in the grand scheme of things.

“..Alright then.” He shrugs and goes back to writing down notes, ignoring how the room feels a hundred degrees hotter and that every inch of your soul is drenched in a cold sweat, plagued with the situation you landed yourself in.

What has gotten into you?

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[katshelluvacritic]

So…. Glitz and Glam huh… y’know what that means my fellow artists and critics…

REDESIGN TIME!!!! + (A bit of critics/opinions on the characters and the og design :-] )

To start it out a lil’ positive, If I gotta be honest I actually kinda liked these two characters from the mid-season special, even though they were just the bitchy woman character your supposed to hate (as if we needed any more of those characters than we already got viv), they were still really fun as characters in my opinion!

I feel like bitchy esc kind of character very much works for these two coupled with them being very competitive towards fizz in the episode, I feel like those two things were like the bread and butter for these characters and if I wanna be honest… I kinda wanna see these two again but wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t happened bc c’mon this helluva boss we’re talking about after all!

The only thing I would have to say negatively about these two is that they literally got crushed by a rock in the end, like I get it viv hates writing characters who are woman but COME ONNN, you had these two characters that seem really interesting and the only climax you could’a think for them in the ep was to crush them with a rock? That’s literally lame.

But other than that, I think overall these characters were alright! At least writing wise….

Now for the redesign + critic thing on the og designs

I decided to change her outfit bc although I loved the character’s personality, the outfit viv gave them not fit them at all. The jester esc outfit personally I think doesn’t really work for these two because 1. The jester theme Fizzarolli’s thing and 2. It doesn’t really work well with their personality, the song they sang in my opinion shows that.

So I thought I’d base their outfits off of the bratz outfits and also any outfits similar to that, to try to fit their characters more!

That and I’m just getting real sick and tired of the jester/clown theming that’s going on in hb because oh my god it feels so out of place, especially with the theme of greed ring being a trashy polluted city. And even if, EVEN IF viv wanted to give them clown esc themed outfits, I feel like it would’ve made more sense if she gave them outfit that were similar to mimes because technically those guys are like elegant clowns! While jesters aren’t even the same as clowns at all.

I also kept the green ish’ tones while also giving them a bit off red and purple colors to compliment the identical twin duo thing they have going on! Because like… do I even have to say why I did it? Their colors are literally just black and the same exact hues of green, it was literally hard to focus on them when watching the episode because of much they blended in with the background.

I also took inspiration from this fish when designing them because from as far as I can tell (and do correct if I’m wrong), they’re supposed to be fish demons??? So I tried to add more fish motifs for them!

I also made them half succubus from the horns looking similar to that and also because I thought it’d be fitting for them!

I also made their hair look like fish fins because oh my god their hair in the canon design was probably the worst part about their designs, not only did it have too many details that it was too distracting when I was trying to pay attention to the characters but also I just trying to figure out how the hair works in general, because it honestly their hair kinda looked like paper instead of fish fins or even actual hair.

But other than that uhh…

TLDR: I love these guys sm, they deserved much better and uhhh I love women /hj

[hazbinshusk]

Randomly popped into my head

Husk and a stubborn sick reader, where the reader so badly wants to get up and go and do things, but Husk won't let them. And they get into a mini fight over it before Husk makes a deal (wink wink) with them that if they stay, Husk will stay with them and they'll do something like binge movies or voxflix or board games or just cuddle

combining with a request for a kiss prompt because they sound so sweet together :)

prompt #9: a kiss to the eyelid.

Husk rolls his eyes as you try and clamber out of bed again, taking hold of your shoulders and guiding you back down to sit on the edge of the mattress. You fix him with a petulantly furrowed brow, arms folded over your chest. He sighs, amused despite himself. “You might as well can it with the glare, sweetness. I ain’t lettin’ you outta this room.”

“God, I hate you,” you grumble.

“No, you don’t.” he replies easily, the beginnings of a smile teasing at the edge of his lips. He brushes hair away from your forehead, and your eyes close for a moment as his claws graze softly against your scalp. “And God ain’t listenin’.”

“Well, why would he start now?” you joke weakly, grimacing as another wave of nausea rolls through you. “And no, I don’t.”

Husk smiles fully, but it disappears again with another roll of his eyes as you push past him towards the door again. He turns and grabs hold of your wrist, wings fluttering slightly behind him as they settle against his shoulders again. His tail twitches by his ankle slowly. “You’re sick, damn it.”

“I’m not sick,” you argue, even as you can feel the slight sheen of sweat on your temple as your fever rises. “I’m just—”

“Baby, I swear, if I have to spend the next hour combin’ puke outta my fur—”

“Oh, like you’ve never had to do that before.”

Husk chuckles, taking hold of your waist and trying to guide you back towards the bed.

“I’m not sick, for fuck’s sake.” you repeat, pushing him away irritably. “I’m not staying up here all day by myself. I’ll go insane. I’m going to go downstairs, talk to Charlie, and find… find out what she needs me to do for the hotel.”

The bartender growls quietly under his breath, officially annoyed. He had a world of patience for you, but it was beginning to wear thin. “You ain’t gonna get better—”

“I’m not sick.”

“—if you don’t slow down.” He retakes your waist, this time nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. You feel yourself relax into the sensation of it, breath catching as his lips brush your jaw. His nose is cold, and as much as you would hate to admit it, the feeling of it bumping against your heated skin is a nice reprieve from the burn of the slight fever you definitely don’t have. Husk hums, low and rusty, in your ear, his forehead resting against your temple. “C’mon, sweetness. Bed.”

“Ugh,” you groan childishly. “You don’t even mean for sex.”

Husk laughs, turning you and guiding you back to the bed. You let him set you on the mattress, frowning up at him. He smiles, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead. You smile contentedly at the brief contact. “I’ll come up and check on you in a bit, yeah?”

You shake your head, grabbing hold of one of his suspenders. “Uh-uh. If I’m stuck up here, you’re staying too. I’ll go crazy in here by myself.”

Husk sighs, a furrow deepening in his brow. “Y’know I want to, baby. But I’ve got the bar, and Al isn’t—”

“Alastor can kiss my ass.” you say firmly, taking hold of his other suspender and drawing him closer to you. He steps between your knees, an almost amused tilt to his lips.

“Y’know I think it’s sexy when you talk like that, sweetness, but that ain’t how this works.”

You shake your head. “I mean it; Charlie told you to make sure I was feeling better, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then do that. Contract or no, I’m pretty sure Charlie outranks that smiling psycho as long as we’re in the hotel.”

Husk’s smile widens despite himself, pressing another kiss to your forehead. He dusts kisses over your face, lips lingering on your cheekbone, your eyelids. “You’re dangerous.”

“Stay with me?”

Husk rumbles in the back of his throat, bumping his forehead against yours. “If I stay, will you stay in bed?”

“For the un-fun reasons, right?”

“’m sure we can find somethin’ fun to do.” he assures you, gesturing for you to move back against the pillows. You do so, and he climbs in beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Just need to hold off on the naked kind ‘til I’m sure you’re not gonna toss your cookies on the sheets.”

“Spoilsport.”

Husk chuckles, bumping his nose against your temple. “Movie?”

You nod, curling into his side. Despite your protestations, being like this, with him… it was exactly where you wanted to be. “Movie.”

“That’s my girl.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[sheluvv-gambino]

“Huh, you sound British.”

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : Being a new student is already hard, just imagine being British in high school within Brooklyn.

warnings : I put a slash between the difference of American and British words so no one is confused since I’m not actually American myself.

part 2

Switching from an English secondary school to an American high school was not something that you could say you were actually excited for.

But yet here you are sitting in your mothers car listening to ‘Bonfire’ by Childish Gambino, trying not stress over being in a totally new environment.

“Okay, we’ve arrived.” Your mum/mom said rubbing the back of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna go now, I love you.” You sigh.

“I love you too but get your arse out this car so your not late please!”

You laugh whilst unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car walking towards the entrance.

Once you enter your immediately overwhelmed with the amount of loud new accents filtering the air. I mean sure you had been in New York for a few days before being introduced to the school but that doesn’t mean you were used to the variety of accents.

Making your way towards the principals office you ended up lost and having to scout the help of one your new peers.

Looking to your left you spot a fairly handsome guy with two cainrows/cornrows going down his neck, sharp jaw, and very plumed lips.

Damn, guess NYC ain’t that bad after all.

Tapping his shoulder you timidly ask “Sorry to disturb you but do you think your could show me to the principals office.”

He looked you up and down for a good thirty seconds before his focus finally set on your face.

“Huh, you sound British.”

“I mean I am from London.” You deadpan.

“Sure I’ll take you, c’mon.”

He takes off swiftly leaving you trailing behind him.

Once you finally reach the principals office

he stops and looks you dead in the eye tilting his head which ultimately makes you cast your gaze down to the floor.

“I’m Miles but I never caught your name.”

You look up and end up locking eyes.

“I’m Y/N” You smile downward.

“We’ll Y/N ion know much about British people but I hope we can get to know each other a bit more…”

And with that he walked away leaving you at the door of the principal.

Now all you have to is KNOCK.

————————

Getting halfway through the day was particularly easy except from the bombardment of questions from people you don’t even know.

Asking things about Britain like you were the Queen (R.I.P Queen Lizzy) It was like they had never heard of Google before.

Fortunately a group of girls adopted you into their circle and you were currently sitting with them at lunch.

“So how’s your day been except y’know all the weird questions?” One girl asks with a chuckle.

“We’ll it’s been a bit annoying relearning the stuff I’ve already done which by the way don’t you think it’s a bit weird that you guys do algebra for like a whole year. In England once we finish a topic we move onto the next.” You ramble with a sigh.

“Eh I mean I guess but it’s not anything new for us. Anyways since being here, have you caught your eye on anyone yet?” Another girl answers and questions.

“We’ll there was this one guy but I haven’t spotted him again since he dropped me off at the Principal’s.”

Some girls squeal in excitement at a new potential crush to gossip about.

“He was quite fit actually and he had these two braids going down. He gave a really good conversation on the way their actually.” You finish off going back to your food nonchalantly.

There must be a shift in the air because the table of girls stopped talking until someone pipes up.

“Your not talking ‘bout Miles Morales are you?!” She squeaks with widened eyes.

“We’ll yeah he said his name was Miles but he didn’t give his surname/lastname.”You start to nod.

“No way! Girls have been trying to get with him ever since we got to the school but he’s always cold and quiet around people who aren’t his friends. Girl you are so lucky.” She blurts out.

“We’ll I’m sure he was just being nice, I mean I am new.” You defend.

And with that Miles Morales walks past your table trailing behind his friends he gives a smirk and waves towards you.

Yeah, I guess you are lucky…very lucky!

[izurou]

⋆ .˚ 𖤐 – ft. SHIDOU RYUSEI ⋮ contains: f! reader. fem receiving oral sex. spitting. brief penetration. a lil creampie bc i can’t not add one. he gets into a fight so violence ig but not much at all

at first glance, ryusei doesn’t look like a threat.

he’s all pink dye and accessories, with a thin black choker sitting pretty on his throat, and a matching headband pushing back the two ombré strands that usually frame his face.

glance number two, and alright—maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.

his hands are shoved in his pockets, but the veins that seemingly start at each wrist and taper off into his toned arms are blatant, and they’re not a comforting sight. the black tank top he’s wearing is all but glued to him, showcasing his lean build, and hm—he actually does look pretty strong.

but—the most unsettling thing about him has to be his smile. there’s something rather inhuman about it—maybe it’s the simple fact that it even exists at a time like this, after he’s heard a crude comment about you, his precious girlfriend.

the third glance is the last—a wide eyed, bloody nosed stare given by those who’ve just learned that the brunt of his strength resides not in his punch, but his kick.

and then, you have to take your threat home.

⋆

“so much for behaving yourself tonight, huh ryu?” you haphazardly toss your phone onto your bed—watching as the device bounces a couple times before settling near his hand.

ryusei is sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning back on his palms and watching you.

“aww, c’mon babydoll, i did,” he insists—putting on a little faux pout as he coaxes you over to him through some unseen force. “he’s alive, isn’t he?”

yes, he let the asshole off with a warning at most. doesn’t he deserve a little praise for holding back?

“how sweet of you,” you mutter sarcastically.

he thinks you’re cute when you get like this—attitude off the charts because he went and made a scene again, and oh—he’s going to get himself hurt, is he? whatever. he doesn’t care, and he’s going to do as he pleases regardless.

though he’ll always, always let you have the same freedom with him to atone for it.

“what, you gonna punish me or somethin’?” he tongues at his cheek—blinking up at you through long blond lashes. “i won’t resist, angel face.”

an amused puff of air leaves your nose—because you know damn well that the words punish me lose all meaning the second they’re in his mouth. you don’t think there’s anything you could do that wouldn’t turn him on in one way or another.

even so, there’s no harm in having a little fun with him—right?

⋆

maybe not. he’s definitely a handful—bombarding you with lewd comments, and greedily pawing at your hips as you attempt to shimmy out of your tight clothing. but you persist, and now here you are—straddling his thighs in nothing but a pair of light pink panties, material so thin, so sheer—you might as well be wearing nothing.

“just gonna sit there and look pretty, babydoll?” he teases—grabbing onto your wrist and guiding your hand over the bulge in his unzipped pants. “i’d still cum, y’know. you’re that sexy, baby.”

“yeah,” you mumble, ignoring his latter comment. “something like that.”

you rub him through the fabric of his boxers a bit before tugging the material down altogether—just enough to free his visibly excited cock, which you ignore completely.

instead, you lift your hips up and over where he’s burning with red hot desire, repositioning yourself on his upper chest momentarily. there, you brush away the little baby hairs that have escaped from his headband, waiting for him to connect the dots and realize that yes, you will be sitting somewhere looking pretty—but it won’t be back there.

“fuck yeah baby, c’mere.” he bucks his hips at the sight of your cunt—taunting him from behind the pretty pink lace. how fucking annoying, he’s just about ready to—

“rip them and i’ll kill you.”

oh, you’re really speaking his language now.

“have it your way,” he hums in a singsong voice—sticking his tongue out and leaning forward to lick a smug stripe up the centre of the fabric.

you respond by corralling his hands and pinning them above his head with one of your own—matching his arrogance as you purr, “i will.”

gosh, he loves this—much more than he should.

using your free hand, you pull your panties off to the side, and he doesn’t hold back the groan that rips from his throat, because fuck, you’re so wet—glistening with a pretty little glaze of your own arousal, practically begging to be feasted on.

“c’mon, fuckin’ sit on my face baby, lemme taste that sweet cunt,” he urges—hips bucking up into nothing once again. “shit, i’m not gonna last.”

slowly, you start to move yourself toward his face—and quickly, his primal urge seizes control and sends him lurching forward, meeting you halfway as he dives tongue first into your heavenly pussy.

and you think to yourself—shit, me neither.

because, much like everything else he does, he eats you out with a fervour second to none—with an appetite so large, a hunger so utterly insatiable—a lifetime in between your legs would still have him asking for seconds. he sucks your clit into his mouth, and nearly unhinges his jaw as he dips his tongue down between your folds—wanting all of you, all at once. he does it over and over and over again—a true gnawing motion, paired with loud slurps and smacks of your messy cunt.

mere minutes pass—and while you’re busy falling apart atop his face, he looks calm beneath you—humming in content as something, either his own spit, or you—trails down the sides of his mouth.

“ryu, oh fuck,” you hiss, gritting your teeth as you resist the selfish urge to grind yourself down onto his face.

“mmmm, you’re sweet baby,” he pulls away in an attempt to catch his breath—tongue running over his shiny lips. “but you don’t taste like me. maybe i’m not fuckin’ you enough.”

his feast continues seconds after the last syllable leaves his mouth—he rolls and twists his tongue over your clit, shakes his head side to side a little, and you feel your body start to give out. as a result, you’re forced to release him from your grip as you latch onto the headboard for support.

“just let me cum ryu, please,” you whine.

and oh how is heart swells, you’re just so cute—rolling your hips against his tongue, using him to get yourself off—all while you gracefully accept defeat. adorable. he loves you so, so much.

a series of grunts rumble from his chest, vibrating against your mess of a pussy, and you know those sounds all too well—vision blurring as you realize what’s happening. you know you’re going to cum as soon as you look, but you do anyways.

peering over your shoulder, you watch through hooded lids as ryusei’s cock twitches, leaking his sticky white cum onto his pelvis.

your boyfriend—the same guy who handed out a broken nose just before this, is cumming for you, because of you, and you barely had to touch him.

and there you go, squeezing your eyes shut as your own orgasm consumes you—hips stuttering as your pussy pulses on his tongue. you sound so pretty, panting and gasping out his name—all he can do is hold you in place and help you ride out your high—pulling back only after he’s ensured you have nothing left.

“some pussy you’ve got there, baby,” he laughs breathily and pats the side of your thigh—letting you know he wants you to move. “made a real mess outta me, huh?”

“i hate you,” you mutter—swinging a leg over him and sinking back against your pillows. did he even really deserve to enjoy that? “i’m not having sex with you for the next week.”

he grins amusedly at you, tugging his now ruined tank top over his head, and ridding himself of his pants shortly after. is he deaf?

“whatever you say,” he absentmindedly agrees—coming back and hovering above your figure. he grabs your jaw, and runs his thumb over your lips.

“ryusei.”

“shhhh, open up,” he orders, and you don’t know what point you’re trying to prove anymore, if any at all, but you do just that—you part your lips and stick your tongue out. with your gaze piercing his skull, he spits—a little glob of saliva that clings to his tongue before settling on yours. “what do you taste, babydoll?”

you close your mouth and swallow—telling him what he wants to hear.

“me.”

“aw, isn’t that sweet?” he purrs—leaning down to press a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your lips.

and you almost don’t notice him easing the head of his cock into you, though it’s hard to ignore the sultry moan he lets out when he buries himself to the hilt—cock hypersensitive, and fully capable of filling you up right then and there.

“hey, i know you heard me,” you mutter, slipping two fingers beneath the tight band of his choker—making it even tighter.

“shit,” he pants—hips jerking as he effortlessly cums for a second time. “yeah, i heard you angel face. i’m gettin’ my week’s worth now, don’t want this pussy forgettin’ about me.”

[alexiavettel]

Ten things I hate about you

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: age gap, explicit language, allusions to sex, drinking, mentions to death, motorsport accident, angst sometimes, rbr mentions (ew), Horner mentions (he’s not the bad here), no use of Y/n, Daniel Ricciardo is a walking cliché (it’s actually cute for me) and Michael and Scottie are actually babies. 

summary: The ten reasons why you hate Daniel Ricciardo through the years. But remember, the line between hate and love is thin, be careful…

I hate the way you talk to me,

“What are you doing here kid? This is an adult RedBull party, you shouldn’t be here”

“Shut up Ricciardo, I deserve to be here as much as you”

“For being the boss daughter? Wow how deserving!” 

“And what are you doing here? I thought you jumped off last year”

“Y’know gal once you go Danny Ric you never want to go back, your daddy likes me so here I am”

“Dear god, I thought that after you were a coward and moved to Renault I would never have see you again out of the paddock” 

“You don’t what you’re talking about, girl” the older man towers over you in the corner of the saloon.

“So unbothered until someone call you coward, right? You’re childish Ricciardo, that’s what you are”

She hates when he calls her kid. 

and the way you cut your hair.

“Oh my god what have you done, cowboy?” 

“Liked the new cut, golden girl?”

“Wow stopped calling me kid, it’s a significant development Ricciardo”

“Want me to come back calling you kid? ‘Cause I don’t mind”

“Shut up, and to be honest no. I don’t like it, the new cut just shows your age better you’re almost going bald man be careful” you said laughing.

“What wait really?”

“Your hairline looks like circuit corners, to be honest. But hear my wise words big boy, let it grow more than you’re used to. Curls look good on you”

Daniel always have his curls looking good now. 

I hate the way you drive my car.

“C’mon girl, you drunk too much” 

“OH DANIEL! What are you doing here, handsome?!” you might had a little too much long island iced teas

“M’gonna take you home, come on” he took your both hands and led you to the exit

“What about my car? She’s my precious daughter I can’t leave Daisy alone!”

“You named your car? You scare me sometimes little girl… You’re lucky I took an Uber, ‘gimme the keys” 

“Don’t talk about Daisy like that!” you drunkenly shouted in the parking lot

“You’re joking you drive a manual! You have a fucking Supra what are you? Brian O’Conner?” he put you in the passenger seat and belt you on.

“Not like you’re not a fucking formula one driver, huh? Lucky me! And don’t talk about Daisy like t-that she’s purple not orange like in fast and furious” He just rolled his eyes and started driving.

“Didn’t know you could drive, even more a manual”

“You say that because you never saw me drifting”

They spend the next night drifting in an empty parking lot. 

I hate it when you stare.

“What are you looking at mate?” Nico asked the younger man

“N-Nothing” he stopped staring at you across the paddock

“Hmm ‘nothing’ right? The ‘nothing’ you mentioned is that one covered in Red Bull merch staring back smiling right now?” Daniel immediately looked back searching for your smile but just found you laughing at one of Albon’s jokes.

She felt his eyes burning into her, she always did. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

“Ouch! Daniel!” You shouted after he stepped on your foot in the middle of a dinner at your dad’s house with some friends, former drivers. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean it” he gently caressed your hair with an apologising smile 

“Okay but why the fuck are you wearing combat boots? It’s a dinner Dan, I thought you had a better sense of style”

“Sorry darling it’s not about the boots, it’s my big feet and y’know what they say-“

“Shut up, Ricciardo”

He gifted her a pair of combat boots on her birthday. She wears it at every opportunity. 

and the way you read my mind.

“Stop. Stop thinking too much” he caressed your cheek 

“But I am not-“

“Yes you are, I can almost hear your thoughts and I know they are plenty. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, if you want to stop and pretend I never kissed you we can do it…”

“No-"

He kissed her goodbye that night, and did it almost all the others nights too. 

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“I have something for you… I asked Michael to put it in your driver's room” you quietly whispered while passing through him in the McLaren hospitality 

“Late valentines' gift, darling?” he said laughing.

“Maybe…”

You were scared of being a little too fast, but it was inevitable. You hate the things he makes you feel.

When the man found the sunflowers in his bed he was beyond surprised. But the two letters between the yellow fresh plants made a glint appear in his eyes. The first one had “about you and me” written down in the envelope. 

“I have sat upon the seashore

and washed away my fears.

I have lived so many days now

that they are turning into years.

I have walked up in mountains.

I have splashed around in streams.

I have conjured up ideas

that have moulded into dreams.

I have seen a thousand faces

And I've matched a thousand smiles.

I have been to so many places

that I'm losing count of miles.

I have heard the wind, so gently,

cause the trees to creak and moan,

but I have never felt a heart

as perfect as your own”

And the second one had “about your eyes” written down in brown tint. 

“You hated your eye colour,

called it a dull and dirty brown

Wished for the deep blue of an ocean,

where admirers hearts would drown

And it pained me when I realised,

you'd never see it like I do

The way your eyes hint a story,

that I want to read right through

They hold specks of stolen sunlight,

that you'd miss with just one glance

And a depth of raw emotion,

that can freeze you in a trance

They're a fix of melted chocolate,

when I'm craving something sweet

But hold a gaze that's so unwatering,

that I find it hard to meet

I fall right down the rabbit hole,

when I look into your eyes

The brown of earth's unfettered beauty,

that I yearn to memorise

When I was tired of not belonging,

they made me feel like I'd been found

And I hope you never say again,

That your eyes are simply brown.”

He even posts pics of his eyes now.

I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right.

“You need to stop running away! You want to end this or not? You want to keep hiding us from your dad like an afraid little kid? I do EVERYTHING to be with you but in the moment it gets a ‘little too real’ you run! That’s what you always do!” Daniel never screamed at you but today has been an exception.

“You don’t understand, Daniel! It’s not just my dad, it’s a lot more complicated than that!-” you mourn sitting in the sofa

“What? Have you realised that I am ‘too old’ for you? That you are wasting your time with me? That the public and your family will criticise us?”

“You are not old for me, babe… But they will speak y’know? I hate the media speculating about me with every single driver, but what if that damages your future in another team? What if your fans start treating you differently alleging that you ‘groomed’ me since we have known each other since I was 18? What if-” you started walking towards him

“You are too much worried about me, darling. Think about yourself. Think about us, how happy we make each other. I know you’re scared, babe… But that is what would make me happier. We can wait how much you want but I’m scared too. I’m scared you’re going to leave me for someone better, you have so many options it just doesn't make sense why you chose me…” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek after

“I am never leaving you. I am just scared” his eyes gave you the comfort you were looking for, that you always searched

“But love is scary. Specially after we couldn't even tolerate each other and now we are, this” he pointed between you “I have fears and more fears with you, but our love is bigger than all of them. If you want to be with me, for real, you also have to learn to surpass your fear. We are a team, darlin’”

He was right. He always is.

I hate it when you lie.

“You are a fucking asshole, Daniel!” You shouted after closing his door.

“I am sorry-”

“No you don’t! You could’ve died, Daniel for god’s sake. You could’ve died and I would only know after receiving a hospital’s call. You lied to me, you promised ages ago that you would never… I don’t understand, like I really don’t.”

“Darling, listen-”

“Daniel, I can't hear your voice right now. It’s making me angrier and I don’t want to act irrationally”

“Can I just explain why I lied?”

“Now? No. Please go away, I really need to think. Alone.”

You don’t understand, he had a car accident during the testing for the 2021 season and said it was nothing much. You watched everything on tv and didn’t looked too bad, but you were worried either way. The g forces are too much sometimes, but he swore he was fine. Long story short, he was not. He literally disappeared for more than 24 hours and you were looking up plane tickets to Bahrain when Michael called you telling what happened.

When Daniel crashed a part of his helmet was broken, and his head hit the neck support. Obviously could’ve been worse, but the amount of blood that came out of him was scary. Michael send you some pics after you almost threatened him of death, he explained that Daniel had only a small opening in his neck. And he was conscious enough after the crash to get out of the car, message you and go walking to the medic station. But unfortunately one blood vessel has been hit in the process and he was having an internal haemorrhage.

The thing is, he was notified before the surgery and he answered your call saying that “I am completely fine darling, just gotta do some exams and gonna be back to sleep in the hotel in some hours. Don’t worry, I love you” the first time he really said those words, and could’ve been the last. 

She said I love you back. And took care of him until he was good to go back.

I hate it when you make me laugh, 

“Oh my fucking god, Daniel! My dad is going to kill us” you said laughing after being thrown in your father’s pool with Daniel. His Monza win meant more to you two than you had expected.

“He can kill me if he wants, but it was worthy. At least I’m going to die happy. I could die happy whenever I’m with you” he kissed you messily. 

“So cheesy, Dan ew. But if you really meant it, I hope it’s going to take a bit more to your death ‘cause I have no plans of ever leaving you”

“And I am the cheesy one-?”

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING HERE?” Oh that must be your dad… oops?

He always loved her laugh, even when they hated each other… The sound of her laugh always was the closest thing to heaven, for him.

even worse when you make me cry.

“1st task: word search, find your gift.”

No fucking way, Ricciardo. You say “I’m sad” in one day, and in the next you wake up with this note in the bed. The only possible answer in this messy word search was office. When you got to his office desk a box of chocolates was waiting for you, with another note, this time in the format of a heart.

“2nd task: i need to be fixed, what am i?”

Just could be the wardrobe door, that shit almost knocked you up one day. Just right, honey. You found a little cute poem with another note.

“I don't want a fairytale

ending with you.

I want to be there

to help you face

your fears and 

to help you overcome

your failures.

I want to give you

the kind of love

that's not distorted

and fabricated,

but real, raw

and honest.”

“3rd task: complete the sentence, w__r_  __  _ s_en_  m__e  __me  on  _ho_e?”

With an embarrassing amount of time, you discovered to be “where do I spend more time on phone?” and that must be the main bathroom. In the mirror lipstick were marking the words

“4th task: i am in your most peaceful place”

with a little flower in the end. There’s only one place.

When you opened the wooden door that separates the living room from the garage and garden you felt tears burning your eyes. Daniel were sitting in the garden with sunflowers, picnic basket, plenty of fruits, drinks and food in general. 

“Sorry about the lipstick I used an old one and I swear I’m gonna clean after and-”

“You’re the most cheesy, cliche and argh I don’t even know what to- I fucking hate loving you!” How could you get so lucky? This 5’10’’ aussie, who has the biggest smile, loudest laugh, the best hug ever and seems like his life mission is making you the happiest person alive.

“Darling, don’t cry please! I hate when you cry!” he walked over you

“You were the one that made me cry!” you laughed sniffing giving a kiss in his cheek

“Eh… I might actually have one more thing…”

“What? I don’t think you can surprise or make me cry even more-” you said cleaning away your tears.

“Surprise!” You were wrong. Definitely wrong. Inside the picnic basket instead of more food was a little dog puppy, which couldn’t even open his eyes properly in this light. They furr shined in the sunlight, nose slightly scrunched and tail faintly moving side to side.

She thought the first time she would cry for a man, that it’s not her dad, would be after a heartbreak not for a cliché surprise.

I hate it when you’re not around.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise after this work I’m gonna get on the first plane to you, and then we can enjoy my summer break together. I swear”

That was the third time he said it, the only time he promised tho. It’s hard to get that much time to spend with your boyfriend, and then he still works in his holidays.

He did what he promised but after 3 days. 3 whole days of his absence, it’s different when he’s in the paddock. At least you got a bit of him, the good morning and good night texts, facetime before sleeping and the most important thing of your life: your dog.

When he is not around, she feels like the loneliest person in the world.

and the fact you didn’t call.

It has been a while since that happened but you still remember how the feeling was. The feeling of being just a piece of meat, just drunk sex, a replacement, an embarrassment or worst, a regret.

Your first time with Daniel was after his win in Monaco, 2018. Both drunk not only in tequila and whiskey but in lust. To be honest you don’t remember much of this night, but you remember him. And he remembers you. His hands were imprinted on your curves. Your fingers tangled in his hair. When you woke up in an empty bed, in a hotel room that was not yours. You remembered all too well.

You remembered that he didn’t call. You remembered that he ignored you in the garage and the paddock. When you finally got to ask (you sneaked into his driver’s room) why he was running he admitted “I just can’t even think when you are around now! All I have is memories when I look at you, and that makes me fucking mad! It makes me wanna hate you more but also makes me wanna kiss you more and fuck you more and I can’t! We shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I assume the responsibility, I’m sorry”

That was the first and last time he didn’t call.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“So you hate loving me? Relax I hate loving you too” Daniel gave his characteristic laugh after you finished saying your poem at the end of your wedding vows.

•

“We are a team, in this life and all the others". That was the end of his vows, you could see he was shaking the entire time. You risk it looking at Michael and Scottie (obviously the best men) and they were crying like babies, pretty much more than you. 

“See why I hate loving you, Ricciardo” you mentioned cleaning your tears half laughing and you could hear the guests laughing with you. 

“You’re a Ricciardo now too, darlin’”

“You can kiss the bride now”

This was not the end. She still hates Daniel, everything about him, but especially, how much he was easy to love. He promised they were a team and he will always deliver on that, the love of this life of his and all the others too.

@laura-naruto-fan1998 enjoy <3

my taglist!!

[violetarks]

track 33: la la land

“delivery…?”

you blink at the doorway, where porco holds two bags of ingredients and a wine bottle under his arm. “please don’t ever try that line ever again on me.”

“my bad,” he chuckles as you let him inside, “nice place. i didn’t think you were the gate kinda’ person.”

“levi made sure we all had a place with one after jean’s house got broken into by a crazy fan,” you reply as you lead him to the kitchen. you help him put the ingredients away in separate places and take out two wine glasses. “so, how’ve you been? you’re a lot nicer since the first time i saw you.”

“i think me driving you around town getting jean drumsticks was a good start,” porco tells you. he pours you a glass of wine. “i just, uh… was a bit worried about you during your tour.”

you take out the chopping board and a knife as you listen to him. “oh, thank you, porco, really. i appreciate it,” you hum out, “by the way, what are we making?”

“i actually have no idea,” he mumbles back to you, “i just bought some random things. i saw some pasta thing online.”

you smile at him with upturned brows. “no plan, huh? c’mon, porco, you plan a date and can’t be bothered picking something out?” you joke along with him as you hand him an apron. you tie one on yourself and wait for him to do so as well.

“okay, well, i—i’m not a chef, so i didn’t know,” he grumbles out with knitted brows, “you got somethin’ in mind?”

“yes, everyone knows how to make a simple pasta and protein,” you chuckle back as you turn on your speakers to play some music, “can you dice onion, please? be careful.”

“okay, i’m not some—”

“don’t swing that knife around, porco!” you step back and reprimand. he puts it down on the chopping board sheepishly. “y’know what, i’ll chop everything and you can just, uh… provide support.”

he sits back against the kitchen bench with a pout as you cut the vegetables. he watches you though, a bit happy that you were acting as normal as you could. porco crosses his arms over his chest as he listens to the music. you seemed calm.

when you begin to cook the garlic and onion on the pan and stir with a wooden spoon, you freeze up in your spot when you feel porco’s hands on your waist. you lose your train of thought and mumble off into nothing as he steps forward.

“you okay?” he asks you against your ear. his chin rests on your shoulder and he can feel you shiver. “you were saying something?”

“i… the, uh, the tour went really well,” you swallow your nerves before you put in the tomato paste, “fans really liked it and we, um, we had plenty of encores. i ended up—your hands are…”

they’re planted on your hips tightly. you can feel how his fingers dance across the apron, his chest pressed gently against your back.

“hm?” he asks, “is this alright?”

“y’know, i would’ve head butted you if you tried this back at the jaeger’s holiday house,” you state as you stir the pan, “you’re lucky.”

“yeah?” he hums, “you like me now?”

you don’t respond to that; instead, you point to the fridge. “can you pass me the heavy cream?”

he lets out a short sigh before he pulls away from you. but you shift a little as porco keeps a finger looped in your apron strap. he opens the fridge with one hand and uses his knee to block the fridge door as he reaches for the cream.

“are you serious right now?” you let out a laugh as he sinks back next to you, “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” he replies as he looks down, “i wanted to apologise for everything, by the way. i… pretty much made all this drama happen between us. put you in a pretty shitty position.”

you stare at him wildly before you shake your head. “it’s okay, porco. i mean, every celebrity’s gotta’ deal with something. that, for me, is you. i’m sorry too, i can be pretty childish.”

“that’s for sure,” you jab his shoulder at that. he rubs his arm as he smiles. “so, what will happen between us?”

you glance at him as he opens up the cream. “well, we can’t go public yet, obviously. i’m fine with us just seeing each other in private, if that’s okay. or hiding our faces when we meet up.”

“that sounds good,” he tells you as he leans against the marble bench, “we’ll be extra careful.”

“of course,” you hum back, “you were never a three, by the way. i just said that to piss you off.”

“what about that other drummer? is he still your favourite?” porco questions with a tilt of his head.

“yes, i like the tricks he does with the drumsticks—”

“you’re such an asshole,” he scoffs as he drags you closer to him with one hand on your hip. he watches you smile at him before he’s leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “let’s just start over.”

you return the kiss to his cheek before going back to cooking. “alright. but if you bug me about my stage presence again i will kick you out of my house.”

his laughter fills the air as you two move about in the kitchen.

track 32 | track list | track 34

anime: attack on titan

character: porco galliard (band! au)

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

taglist: @makimakimi @hanmascult @ally22042000 @rozewayne2005 @keithandlevi-ontheroof @qaahnarin @queen-flower @id-rather-be-an-outsider @onlylowercase @tonysttank @a-little-pebbl @hannahalanib1 @moonshineandclearskies @aqueerincrisis @tati-the-fangirl @cheesechopchive-blog @hermaeusmorax

[sunboki]

You and Han Jisung are the ultimate best friends. While he’s busy nerding away, you’re filling him in on the latest and greatest drama. That’s until he brings up crushes. And I mean, what’re you supposed to say when he asks you that? It’s not like Jisung’s your crush… right?

📓 » Han Jisung x f. reader

GENRE┊non idol au, friends to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers, two idiots being oblivious, fake relationship au, highschool au, angst, fluff, slowburn

WORD COUNT┊5.1k words

PLAYLIST

WARNINGS┊profanity, lack of communication, childish pettiness, stupidity at insane levels

AUG’S NOTES┊valentine’s day with ji :(( take this as my tribute to hurting my own feelings with this fic 😭

THE BOYFRIEND STATUS TAGLIST — CLOSED

The first night of your downfall all started in mid-January.

All was well and had been going well, until it wasn’t.

.

.

.

You’ve known Han Jisung since second grade, starting with having to apologize for knocking over his castle and him proceeding to cry even louder in the sandbox, snotty in his red and white striped shirt.

You swear that shirt is still in his closet.

And when he was wimping away in a corner, you were the one that got him out of his shell. To this day you’re convinced you’re the first person to ever witness the true Han Jisung, who starts slapping things when he laughs really hard, who gets overly competitive during board games, who keeps hundreds of mind-blowing tracks he’s produced to himself, and who (you wouldn’t admit it) has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

Freshman year of high school you met Jisung again in your Geography class.

Initially, it took you a moment to recognize his face, having changed quite a bit over the years. And certainly not a bad kind of change. Although, his nerdy personality was all the assurance you needed to figure out it was him, apart from that he switched to contacts, grew his hair out more, and looked, y’know, “older.”

Older as in: what happened to you? ..Why are you so attractive?

But you won’t get too far into that.

Through the years he tutored you. Jisung had a knack for studying since day one, and despite occasionally looking like he could pass as a dropout (usually the week before finals), no one else could maintain better grades than him.

So, on a night both you and Jisung were slouched over your desk, procrastinating school work by rating people at school from most to least kissable, he turns to you, face halfway illuminated by your lamp.

“Do you like anyone?” Your boba-eyed friend asks while you aimlessly scroll through your camera roll in search of the photo you’d been talking about, mumbling a quiet “of course” in response.

Jisung makes an unconvinced noise and clasps his hands together, leaning forward.

“No like, like like anybody.”

Finally escaping your ‘rating people’s kissing-capabilities’ headspace and now entering into your ‘is this the question i think it is?’ one, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

It’s a strange question, not a Jisung-question, and you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer he stares at you.

You’ve never even thought about it really, so why are you so sweaty? Why does your heart feel as if it may just beat out of your chest, why is your mouth so dry?

Questions.

Clearing your throat and secretly praying it didn’t give away your piling anxiety, you feign a roll of your eyes, tapping your fingernail on the cool desk.

God, why are you so nervous?

“Um, nobody, why?” You retort, ignoring the scrutinizing squint of his eyes watching you.

It’s never like this. You’re the one that teases, gets him all shy, stumbling over his words. So now you suddenly feel like Jerry and he’s Tom.

Abnormal.

“C’mon, there has to be someone you think is cute,” He whines, and before you can stop it one word smacks you upside the head.

You.

“It’s Minho!” You shout, hurried and barely audible as if trying to tune out your inner panic.

Han looks stunned.

Han as in best friend, not crush. Right.

What were you thinking?

“..Min.. Minho?” He phrases slowly, evidently surprised.

Being completely honest, you’re just as surprised as he is. Minho is attractive, sure, but never in your life did you consider him like that.

Oh how you wished you could erase all of this from ever happening.

It doesn’t make sense. Because it’s not like you’re into Jisung. Or are you?

Nope. Nuh-uh. You were just caught off guard and unprepared. Not to mention it was an unexpected question, that’s all.

Fuck.

You like Jisung. There’s no point of lying to yourself anymore. From the start of seeing him again, those “friendly” gestures weren’t friendly anymore, they were intentional, pursuing. Walking from class to class together, constantly checking your texts, meeting his eyes only to smile like fools.

“Yep. Minho. That’s the guy,” Cutting each sentence shorter than the last, you nod fervently, avoiding his gaze.

Both soaking in utterly hellish silence, the tension was likely seeping through the cracks in your door at this rate.

He really shouldn’t have ever brought this up, and you shouldn’t have said Minho. So on the bright side, at least you’re both at fault here in the grand scheme of things.

“..Alright then.” He shrugs and goes back to writing down notes, ignoring how the room feels a hundred degrees hotter and that every inch of your soul is drenched in a cold sweat, plagued with the situation you landed yourself in.

What has gotten into you?

Why Minho was the first name you said couldn’t be explained, and, with your amazing fortune, Minho happened to be Jisung’s friend in their shared engineering program.

Any name. You could’ve said any name.

Great.

“Psst!” You hiss, lingering behind the door, waiting for your victim to finally finish his day-long conversation with Mr. Hong.

Said victim (a.k.a Minho) delivering a venomous glare from the corner of his eye, you gesture for him to come nearer (much to his obvious dislike) once the coast had cleared. Thankfully, the classroom was a distance from Jisung’s, providing ample time to strike your plan before they joined sixth period together.

A plan that had been devised throughout the many hours you spent sleeplessly investigating your ceiling last night.

“I need your help.”

Wait for it. Here comes the questions.

“Is this about Jisung?”

Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“You got in trouble again, didn’t you?”

You sigh.

“I-“

“Are you pregnant?”

“SHUT— up.” Grabbing a strong hold onto your one opportunity to speak, you clamber both him and yourself into the nearest seat, dreading this experience the longer Minho stares daggers into your soul.

The idea is a stretch, but if the boy in front of you cooperates, at least a few bases might get covered.

“Minho, I need your help with Jisung.”

Anticipatory eyebrows (looking freaky similar to a cat) urge you further.

“Alright, first things first,” You huff, fishing in your bag prior to sliding the notebook in front of him. His eyes widen, breathing an esteemed “wow” upon reading each line.

“Rules For Our Fake Relationship”, The title reads in messy sharpie marker. A silly, first-grade clique idea, although, if wielded correctly, could very easily quell your.. “problem” for a bit while you brainstormed the next step.

Problem being, how can I make sure, at all costs, my best friend doesn’t know I’m in love with him?

“You really thought this one through, huh.”

“I do what I have to.” Cracking your knuckles and stretching your neck, you ignore Minho’s judgemental eyeball and begin setting down some basic rules.

#1 Under no circumstances should we ever kiss.

He seems to whole-heartedly agree on that one, pretty much gagging at the thought.

#2 No one but us is allowed to know this is fake.

The rest is history, so by the time you’ve reached twenty and he adds a “No acting lovey-dovey around me” rule, you realize you might as well make this a “Rules For Worst Enemies” list instead.

But just as you hand him the pen, awaiting his signature with an eager gaze, he deflates, popping the cap back on much to your displeasure.

“Before I sign my life away to your Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you have to promise me something.”

“..Okay.”

Please don’t say your credit card, please don’t say your credit card please don’t say your credit ca-

“No matter how long this,” he gestures to your page-full of rules, “lasts, you have to find a way to explain yourself to him before Valentine’s Day, deal?”

Valentine’s day gives you a full two weeks to keep up your act, and as much as you want to deny and tell him that would technically break Rule #2, you doubt he’ll agree any other way. It’s Minho for goodness sake, you could throw a brick at his head and he’d wake up in the hospital the next day still remembering to feed his cats.

You’ll make an excuse.. or something like that.

Fine.

“Deal.”

Finally signing the bottom of the notebook paper, the bell rings for your next class to begin and your hand has already started to cramp horribly, a telltale sign your job here is done.

Stashing the illegitimate document in your bag and parting in opposite directions, your movements halt when Minho shouts your name, his flannel-clad form sporting a mildly smug grin.

“Hey! Don’t fall in love with me, okay?” He yells, and you make a disgusted face before both erupting into laughter.

After a rather ungrateful attempt of explaining your tardiness to English class, you drop your backpack down beside your desk, notifications buzzing with texts Jisung sent earlier today asking about where you want to sit for lunch tomorrow and your weekly tutoring sessions amongst other things.

A frown tugged at your lips.

You shouldn’t have lied, really really shouldn't have. So deep inside you hope; pray this’ll be your solution.

Fuck.

Jisung likes you.

Scratch that, he’s liked you. Liked you ever since fifth grade, when he skinned his knee wrecking his favorite captain america bicycle and you patched him up with multiple superhero bandaids.

So when he finds out it’s Minho you’re interested in, Lee Minho who in a billion years he didn’t expect you to be interested in, he’s astonished.

Because it’s not every day your best friend who you’ve been harboring the fattest crush on tells you she’s interested in another guy, especially not your other good friend, so he feels entitled to feeling a tad bit upset.

It’s not your fault and he knows it. You don’t know he likes you because he’s too much of a coward to say anything, do anything.

But somehow, in some majestic, all-knowing way, he wishes you had said his name instead.

Whether it was Summer Camp in middle school or all those times he’d sat behind you in Algebra just to talk to you, it was inevitable. Because before either of you knew it, he was falling in love, and apparently you were falling in love too; with someone else.

“Alright, and? Are you gonna tell me, y’know, why you like her?”

Awaiting the dismissal bell, he folded, desperately needing some kind of assurance. First person he usually went to was you, but that wasn’t possible now, since it’s not like he could simply run up to you and shout out his feelings, could he?

Duh, of course he could. Which is another reason why he won’t, and why he doubts he ever will.

Hell, merely talking to you on the phone whenever Minho passes by amounts to a mini heart-attack.

Instead, Seo Changbin stepped in, and in the midst of a barely occupied cafe, Han Jisung found himself spilling his guts. Spilling his guts as in: venting and brainwashing himself into thinking he could win you over.

“I mean, everything.”

His friend makes a hopeless sort of sound, head resting on his hand.

“She’s like…” Han forks a bit of the cheesecake, Changbin’s expression spurring his cynical seat-mate to continue.

“Cheesecake.”

The level-headed of the two chokes on his drink.

“..Cheese– Cheesecake?”

Han affirmatively nods. “And I love Cheesecake.”

Changbin rises from the table with a frantic Jisung in tow, pleading for his friend to hear him out.

“Look! Look wait, Changbin please-“

He swore the man’s eye twitched.

Although, they’ve known each other for four years, and he was quick thinking up a solution.

“I’ll work out with you for a month.”

He’s never seen a man sit himself down faster.

And as a result, their two hours of utterly senseless talk turned into short-lived (yet greatly appreciated) relief, filled with bits and pieces of advice granted by the matchmaker (Seo Changbin) himself. Plus, he made a good point in advocating you weren’t going out with Minho yet, right? Meaning, despite the possibility being sparse, he had a 1% on his side.

Rain pelted the campus upon his exit, the boy clambering his hood over his head, stepping a mere foot into the watery terrain for a text to vibrate his phone.

Usually he’d ignore it, but that was before he saw the number.

You.

Han stopped dead in his tracks, hoodie slipping off his head in the process—standing there, assailing droplets drenching his form, device clutched in a numb grasp.

Guess the relief wasn’t the only thing short-lived.

Y/N : You’ll never guess what happened Ji!! Minho asked me out!

Something about Jisung is different recently. You’re not sure if it’s an effect of your (fake) relationship, but he’s just.. different.

Distant.

Perhaps you should’ve expected it. This is the first time you’ve ever been in a relationship while being friends with Jisung, and the entire point of this after all is to keep your mushy feelings hidden.

But his entire “cold” persona was starting to get under your skin.

Yesterday he’d completely ditched you to talk to Chan, a fellow producer in the same class as Jisung which, might you add, never happened.

In fact, there was a time that your best friend had gotten so immersed in a conversation he slammed right into a pole. He still has a scar on his nose from it.

More so, a few months ago, leaning against the sink in his dorm the day after midterms when you’d be stressing and obsessing over precalculus, he reached up, cupped your cheek in a hand and rubbed his thumb along your skin.

..And you tumbled head first into those silly feelings the “he’s just a friend” Y/n had locked away and thrown out the key to.

Little did you know Jisung had a spare key all along.

“Eyelash,” He had said, but in your pounding eardrums the comment sounded more like a whisper, an invitation.

That night you lay in bed, trying incessantly to fall asleep to no avail, because every time you close your eyes the scene ran on replay, except in your fairytale he had leaned forward and kissed you—

A car alarm going off outside your window knocks your daydream awry, ushering you to give up on peaceful slumber after the three-hour trial period.

So why were you upset? You wanted this; you wanted to stay as friends out of the fear he didn’t feel the same—even more so that your friendship would dissipate along with it.

Easy.

It didn’t feel fair. You felt like, even though Jisung didn’t have any romantic intentions with you, you were technically (unintentionally) assigning his position as the third wheel without so much as a single vote.

And it didn’t feel fair, because a possibility remained.

A possibility that could mean Jisung liked you, and if that were the case, your efforts, not to mention your mind, would officially drift itself into a never ending orbit.

Albeit amongst your mental warfare, school ran right on schedule, blind to the infinitely deep shithole you had dug (and wished to bury) yourself in.

Thursday’s schedule consisted of a main topic.

Senior prom.

According to your firsthand accounts, prom in high school is either the best or the worst school event in the history of events.

The popular girls stick to tiny maxi dresses with overly tall heels and massive hoop earrings—granted, you don’t blame them for the dress, they’ve got snatched bodies, but sometimes (most of the time) the glitz and glam is a lot on the eyes.

Jocks will show up in cargo’s or dress pants thinking they’re the shit while their attire doesn’t even cut it when you look at their weekly exchange of a girlfriend, but hey, that’s high school.

If you were talking about yourself, you’d say prom was, well, prom. Not horrible, not amazing either.

Freshman year you spent way too much time rewatching “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before” and filling your nights treating the approaching occasion like a sacred holiday. Sophomore year you began to lose interest, and as for Junior year, you nearly forgot it existed.

The more you thought about it though, Jisung would honestly rock a pair of heels.

Anyway, that’s besides the point.

Senior year, this year, there was a change in your rotation. Change, as in, big change. A what-about-Jisung-while-Minho’s-in-the-picture change.

It’s not like you were genuinely dating Minho, yet your wack job of a situation kept you from telling your best friend (crush) who is deliberately avoiding you at the moment, the truth.

Never in your life did you think you’d string yourself into something like this. That Han Jisung, that snotty-nosed boy, would be a constant reason for your incessant headaches, occupying every expanse of your mind on a continuous loop.

And by chance, fate of some kind, you finally run into the runaway culprit, tagging along with Changbin after the lunch break he normally spent with you.

Oh how the tables have turned.

So when the boy expertly dodges your first attempt to communicate, you don’t let him go, unwilling to let another unread message slip past without sparing a word.

“Jisung- wait.”

He turns to you, lips drawn in that straight line that always forms when he’s nervous.

Hundreds of possible questions you could ask in this moment, minimal time.

“Are you.. going to the prom?”

What kind of question is that you dumbass.

Fixating you with an equally incredulous stare, he tips his head slightly, a mocking, humorless chuckle following.

“Um, yeah?”

What. The. Fuck.

Maybe it’s the way he phrased his words, his cocky attitude when responding that irked your nerves. Regarding you like you’re three years old.

And maybe that’s your flaw, feeling like you’re supposed to be the one sending him beet red instead, used to that comforting casualness, your comforting casualness.

Together.

You wrinkle your nose, ripping your hand from his sleeve like you were stung.

Jisung seemed to feel it too, although only you could tell.

“Oh.. okay. I’m going with Minho, my- boyfriend, so don't worry about me!”

Aw shit, now you’re just embarrassing yourself. Shut up and leave, girl.

Jesus, why do you feel like crying?

You’d never sprinted off faster, long abandoning sympathizing with the now jerk-face Jisung and certainly trying to abandon the two days separating prom’s date and the three from Valentines, otherwise, your explanation deadline.

Talk about pressure.

Nonetheless, shopping for something couple-clique was hell. After never anticipating you’d be shopping for two in the first place, simply finding a flattering color proved itself challenging.

Minho was ungodly picky, and you refused to wear what this lunatic deemed prom-worthy. Also, simultaneously trying your hardest to welcome whatever prom season was (an occasion that felt disgustingly uncomfortable) and staying awake to tirelessly plan on how you would behave seeing Han there left no room for relaxing.

Oh, and telling him everything before Valentines too, adding another sleepless night to your February calendar.

Insomnia much?

“Yah! The tie is what makes us look like a couple!” You groan, pressing the dark green bow tie to his shirt while his grabby hands attempt at prying you off.

February 12th arrived dangerously fast, to the point you managed to snag a somewhat-similar tie and dress shade at the last minute, a tie of which you were straining to attach to Minho while standing in an adjacent room to the packed auditorium.

He childishly whines, complaining that it’s too much before all of a sudden the door springs open, figure standing frozen in the entrance.

A figure none other than Jisung.

Best part? Your hands are pressed to Minho’s chest, stuck in a rather compromising position now that you mention it.

“Oh— sorry, um,” He steps back, frantically closing the door in his wake.

This is what you wanted though, isn’t it? Payback for how rude he’d been, for him to believe you were dating Minho, that you weren’t remotely interested in him.

Regardless, it feels like betrayal.

Your companion’s mildly concerned look speaks your mind.

In the midst of your mental tormenting session however, Minho slammed his hip into the side of the door while leaving, gritting out a hushed curse.

“Want me to kiss it for you?” You automatically tease, puckering up your lips in an attempt to block out the voice in your head calling you heartless.

Well, it’s not like Jisung likes you. The only feelings you’re hurting here are yours.

“I. Would. Rather. Die.” He retaliates, nose scrunched while nursing the wound.

‘What a sweetheart’ you want to call back, but the weight on your chest seals your lips shut, and with a nervous nod you stiffly head toward the opening hall.

Something to blame. Right about now, you need something to blame that would at least provide some breathing room considering the blasting of a bass shaking the floor and just how many people are crammed in here.

Everything feels too tight, too much. Minho’s got a loose hold on your hand to keep up the act, but for who? You can’t spot Jisung anywhere.

The fake boyfriend to your side caught on relatively early, sending you a troubled expression you mirror back.

An hour in and there was no enjoying yourself, no laughing and slipping drinks somebody stole from their parents, no dancing around or sending the same compliment to seventy girls on repeat.

Han wasn’t here even after he had told you (asshole-like) he’d come. The entire reason you went these lengths.

Amidst your frustration, you spot a man in the crowd.

Aha.

Chan.

I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung—

“Where’s Jisung?”

You’re kidding.

Chan narrows his eyes, giving your wavering, obviously upset frame a once over.

“Jisung? He dropped off something for Felix. Didn’t he tell you he wasn’t coming?”

Again, you’re kidding.

What a liar.

And maybe you shouldn't have yourself get so mad. Jisung didn’t even know the half of it, nonetheless how far you’ve gone to secure his suspicions were out of your hair.

But you did go that far, and to think he didn’t show up after all left your tribulations useless.

Calm down, the sensible Y/n would scold.

This wasn’t the sensible Y/n.

Racing from the auditorium to the neighboring apartment complex a block or so away, you utilize the extra key he’d given to you, bursting through the door while ripping off your gloves and kicking off your mud-stained heels along the way.

Han spins around, clad in regular clothes—somewhat regular clothes apart from how incredible he looks—with his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, glasses adorning his face, plate of leftovers in hand.

He’s been working out recently, or maybe the majority of the Jisung you’d seen wore hoodies and baggy tees.

You’ll thank whoever got him to the gym later. Presently, number one is Jisung. You and Minho can be dealt with afterward.

“Look, I know you really don’t want to hear this right now, but Minho and I broke up and—“

The words sound like vomit on your tongue, especially from the look Jisung gives you in return.

Fake, It’s all fake. Yet, it feels so real. Yes, you’re still mad, but it’s Jisung, and who are you to deny you still aren’t into him.

You don’t have to be sensible to know that.

“So?”

So? He asks. This Jisung asks, not the one who would’ve, at the drop of a hat, asked if you were alright, asked if you needed anything like a friend does. This is cocky Jisung, jerk-face Jisung.

You’re spoiled with the old Jisung, were spoiled.

But this isn’t him, this is somebody else.

Your frustration levels might breach out of your ears at this rate.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He scoffs, carding a hand through soft strands of hair. “I’m not Minho. I’m not someone you can drag along just for the fun of it, alright?”

Who are you?

Wildly, you wrack your brain for any plausible explanation.

“What- What do you mean drag you along? I would never—”

“Then why?!” He cries, slamming the plate against the table hard enough you notice a crack wedged on the side.

Breaking point.

Come to think of it, this is the first time you’ve ever heard Jisung yell.

What felt to be months and months on end of this lying and stifling came out to this, huh.

Screw it.

“Because! Because I like you, no, I love you Jisung, I love you so fucking much it kills me! Minho and I were fake! I set up all this bullshit just because I was scared of what we have disappearing, can’t you understand that?!”

He’s seething; fat, crocodile tears dotting his waterline. And you stand there pathetically, waiting to hear it, hear something.

“Turn around.”

Huh?

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you slowly do as told, awkwardly shuffling around till your back faces him.

His fingers sift across your back, chills spreading along your skin.

“You’ve been uncomfortable all night, haven’t you? Why didn’t you tell Min— Tell me?” He grumbles, unzipping the back of your dress and simultaneously allowing much needed air to re-enter your lungs.

You don’t need to respond for him to know, another of the many things you’ve fallen for when it comes to Jisung.

Although, another reason added to that list would be his arms wrapping around your waist, cozying to your back. And another when you shift around, your own arms slipping to his neck, savoring a hug you hadn’t realized how horribly you missed.

“Can you go back to being just Y/n and not Minho’s fake girlfriend?” He mutters, head buried in your neck.

“Yeah yeah.” You respond, voice wavering the longer you stay pressed in his embrace.

Jisung pulls back slightly, studying your face.

“Can I…” He begins trailing off, eyes suddenly laser-focused on your face.

A roaring pit of deja vu swallows you whole.

His thumb does that, that thing again. That careful caress on your cheek, that close proximity.

“Eyelash.”

Everything feels like it’s on loop.

Only difference is when he begins to lean forward, and you swear it’s your imagination when he pulls the glasses off his face, lips barely ghosting over yours.

“Can I kiss you, please?” His tone slightly breathless, you don’t have to say a word by the way you’re looking at him for Jisung to take initiative.

Yet, his feather-light peck to your forehead catches you off guard, preparing to laugh before a careful hand slips to hold your neck, maneuvering your face into a kiss you’re certain you’ll remember.

Jisung, whom, quite frankly, squealed every time the two main characters confessed their love to each other, who was emotional and fragile, was kissing you.

He kisses you, just like that stupid fantasy.

It’s messy, inexperienced, but it’s Jisung. That’s enough.

And then, even worse for your sanity, his hands slip beneath your thighs to pick you up—an action that wouldn’t have been this detrimental if he hadn’t gained so much muscle recently—but it does.

Basically breathing him in, you’re slow to separate, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, sending chills down your spine.

Your nerves are on fire.

If anything, the world could burn and you’re certain you wouldn’t even notice, not when Jisung had you caged between his arms on the bar stool, positively enamored with every slight huff and gasp of air, the squeezing grip you had on his arms.

Ignorant to the point you forgot about his gym-partner (likely responsible for helping Jisung grow muscle, you’d thank him later for that) otherwise roommate who wouldn’t appreciate his best friend hogging in the kitchen.

Luckily, it only took the clattering of keys lodging into the doorknob to pull you two off of each other, scrambling to grab clothing while you raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Mere seconds after your hasty escape does the man, the myth, and the legend walk in, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Jisung awkwardly grins, leaning back on the island as if you hadn’t just been sitting there, all pretty and perfect.

Han had always thought Changbin would be some type of dog in his past life—maybe a Rottweiler. And by the way he seemed to practically smell something was up, he was certain of it.

“Did I.. walk in on something?”

Nearly slipping half-way through his reply, Jisung (non)chalantly wiped a bout of sweat from his hairline.

“Nope! Just uh.. organizing?”

He would get weeks of shit if anyone caught on, nonetheless his roommate.

Instead of interrogating him further, Changbin grunted, bending down to pick up what the younger thought to be a piece of trash, only for one of your heels to be pinched between his fingertips, expression reading: “Seriously? Organizing?”

Color draining from his face, Jisung humorlessly chuckled, likely sweating enough to fill the Atlantic ocean.

“Did I ever tell you about my secret life as a drag queen?”

Hastily snatching the shoe away at the older boy’s face palm, his face flushing ten thousand degrees upon the cuff to the shoulder he received.

“Y/n?” His friend called loudly, met with your pitiful “here…” from the bathroom and a smug giggle from an amused gym-rat.

Yeah. Shit for weeks.

“Do you think Minho’s a good kisser?” Jisung piques, sprawled out on the couch with a bag of potato chips in hand.

The first official night of your relationship with Han started in mid-February. Tonight, you planned a movie date.

You, almost suffocating from how fast you inhaled, threw a not-so-kind slipper at him, the boy screaming avidly in response.

Through a fake relationship, pettiness, and a sad attempt at making-out, in a sense, you did explain yourself.

Hah. Suck it Minho.

“Hey! I’m just asking!”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @liknws @itshannjisung @spearbinnie0327 @manuosorioh @dearly-somber @thefangirloncrack @ivydoesit23 @thisrandomgoofy15 @thisisnotjacinta @palindrome969 @shycreationdreamland @j-oneseungz @hyperpixie @eyearebee @cupidcures @gumiess @loxgirl2004

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 3

Eddie Munson x reader

<- previous part Next Part ->

Word Count:1,943

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

As you walk in, you see his old red and black electric guitar leaned up against the couch. The same guitar he’d always played, the same guitar he’d play when he performed at the school’s talent show, always dreaming of him and his band making a name for themselves, wanting to be something bigger.

“You still play guitar?” 

“Yeah, never stopped, really.” he nods, running a hand through his tangled curls.

“And are Corroded Coffin still together?”

“We never made it big like we dreamed, but the boys and I still play together sometimes, it’s just hard, y’know, we’ve all got lives outside of making music. We still play the odd small gig when we can, though. It’s nice to have that little bit of extra money on hand when days at the garage aren’t as lucrative.” he explains. “Anyway, enough about me, what about you, huh? What are you doing here?”

“Eddie, something really weird is happening to me, and I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“Go on.” he says, giving you the space to explain yourself.

“It’s like, yesterday it was my thirteenth birthday, and now I’m this.” you say, gesturing to yourself. “..and you..I mean look at you, you look so different! Do you see what I’m saying?”

Eddie shakes his head, squinting his eyes at you unsurely.

“Are you high or something? Like have you been smoking weed? Special K? Ecstasy? Are you doing drugs?” 

“What? No. No, not at all!” you quickly reassure him before taking a breath to calm down. “It feels like one moment I was there, in my parents home, sitting in the closet, and now I’m here and I just skipped forward in my life. It’s like a weird dream. I can’t remember anything about being a teenager, or even being in my twenties for that matter, I don’t remember my life at all. You need to help me remember my life, Eddie.”

“You need me to help you? I don’t think I can do that.” he says with a shake of his head.

“Why not?” you ask, the threat of tears beginning to bubble in your eyes. If Eddie couldn’t help, then what hope was there for you? Perhaps you were going to be stuck like this forever.

“I don’t know anything about you, alright? We haven’t seen each other since freshman year of high school.”

“What?” you gasp softly.

“We’re not friends anymore, you grew up and moved on.”

“But you were my best friend, Eddie.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? ‘Were’. We were kids, but we both grew up and got on with our separate lives. We’re different people now.” 

You take a step back, the room suddenly feeling like it was closing in on you. A tight pain hinges in your chest and your breathing gets quicker. Each breath is more shallow than the last as you fight for air.

“Hey, hey, hey..” Eddie shushes in that reassuring voice. “Here take a seat, I’ll open up a window and get you something to drink.”

You plump back down on the couch, trying your best to let your breathing return to a normal rate, as Eddie comes back into the room to hand you a cool glass of water. You take a few sips, as Eddie speaks up again.

“I think you should go back to your own apartment.” he says softly. “C’mon, I’ll even walk with you if you want.”

“Y’know, it’s not a bad thing, you went off to a big fancy college, we started working different jobs, we just drifted apart.” Eddie said, as he crossed the street with you.

“But what about Christmas? Didn’t you ever think to come see me then? Send a card?”

“I think I saw you through a frosted window of some bar once like six years ago. It looked like you were at some kind of fancy Christmas party. Didn’t think it was my place to suddenly barge back into your life like that.”

You give him a short sigh as a way of a reply.

“Well I guess this is me then.” you say, stopping outside your apartment building.

“Okay then, well it was nice seeing you.” he smiles, giving you a soft one armed hug before pulling away.

“It was nice seeing you too, Eddie.”

“Well, alright then, Bye.” he waves you off with a small two-fingered salute.

“Bye.” you smile as you watch him walk away, although something doesn’t want you to let him leave, and before you know it you’re calling out to him once more. “Hey, Eddie..Do you wanna..maybe, come up to my apartment for a little bit?”

He turns back around at the sound of your voice calling out to him and he once again flashes you that cheeky, boyish smile.

His eyes flick down to his watch, checking the time, before looking back to you. “Okay then, I don’t really have anywhere else to be anyway right now.”

 “Oh look! It’s the most depressing years of my life all compressed down into one handy-dandy school yearbook.” Eddie laughed sarcastically as you spread open the pages to look at all the pictures. Your finger lingering over a picture of you hanging out with Nancy and her clique.

“Oh, yeah, you spent a lot of time with those girls.” Eddie told you, as he looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. “At one point, I think you were like their leader or something.”

Your eyes scan over a picture of a much younger Nancy Wheeler, bright eyes and bouncy curls, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close.

“Oh yeah, last I heard, you and ‘Fancy Nancy’ were still really good friends. I think she works with you, yeah?”

“Yeah, she does, but she just seems so different now, I guess.”

“Botox will do that to you.” Eddie snickers from over your shoulder.

You turn over the yearbook’s page and there you are, in a poofy purple dress, with your hair teased up to the maximum in curly updo and styled with a glittering tiara.

“I was the prom queen! And I went with Steve Harrington?” You giggle when you see Steve standing next to you in the picture, his arm snaking around your waist and a matching purple flower corsage pinned through his suit's button-hole. His gloriously coiffed mane of hair rivalling your own.

“Yup, you two were the King and Queen of Hawkins’ high if I remember correctly.” Eddie huffs.

“I can’t believe it, I got everything I ever wanted.”

“Yeah, you got it all, congratulations.” Eddie mutters under his breath as he walks away from you.

You’re interrupted from flicking through your highschool yearbook photos by your phone ringing.

“Uh, your purse is ringing, I think you might wanna answer it.” Eddie laughs softly pointing to where you had left your bag on the coffee table in his living room.

You fish out your phone from your purse and answer it immediately.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hi, we were just calling to confirm your limousine pickup for 8.30 this evening?” asks the voice on the other end of the phone line.

Limousine? Suddenly your life just got a whole lot fancier.

“Yes, my limousine pickup, I will be prepared to take my ride at that time.” you agree. “Would you mind telling me where it is that I’m going?”

“ Of course, ma’am. It’s The Palace, on 23 Ivory Street.” comes the response.

“Okay, thank you very much.” and with that you calmly end the call before buzzing with excitement. “I’M GOING TO A PARTY IN A LIMO!!!”

“That’s wonderful, looks like you’re back to your old self now, huh?” Eddie nods. “I should probably get going.”

“You don’t want to go to the party with me?” 

“I doubt it’s going to be my scene, besides I’ve got to get back to work.

“Well if you have a change of heart, and decide you want to come then it’s at The Palace on 23 Ivory street.” you smile at him. “It’s going to be fun.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, y/n.” Eddie nods as he makes his way to your front door to let himself out of your apartment.

“Eddie, wait a minute!” you call out to him, just as he was leaving. “What if this isn’t just a dream? What if what I wished for actually came true?”

He rubs a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well then, you got everything that you could have ever wanted. Might as well enjoy it.” and with that Eddie makes his way through the door and down the hallway.

“Eddie! See you later, alligator!” you call down the hallway.

He smirks back at you one last time.

“In a while, crocodile.”

Up-beat pop music filters through your apartment as you take your time to get ready for the party, wearing a soft pink satin dressing gown, with your hair set in rollers. Sitting in front of your vanity mirror, you apply a swipe of bright shimmering eye shadow to your eyes, and glossy pink lipstick to your lips, swirling a big powder brush into a peachy blush and dusting it over your cheeks with a bright smile.

You dance your way over to your walk-in closet, your eyes raking over all of the shoes on the shoe rack, looking at all of your clothes, trying to decide which dress is going to be the perfect dress to wear to the party. And then you see it, there on the hanger. The skirts a twirling swish of bright colours, the perfect dress to dance the night away.

You throw the dress on, and pull the rollers from your hair before ruffling it and teasing it into an updo. Bejeweling yourself in all of your favourite pieces of jewellery, a butterfly pendant necklace around your neck and glitzy earrings dangling from your ears. Looking in the mirror to swipe a final layer of lip gloss over your lips, and spritz yourself with a few dabs of fruity perfume you were ready for the party.

You make your way out of your apartment and down the hall, accidentally bumping into a young girl as you totter around in your heels.

“I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you like that.” you apologise. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” The young girl answers. “I’m Stacy. We’re neighbours.”

“How old are you Stacy?” 

“I’m thirteen.”

“I’m thirteen..uh I mean.. I used to be thirteen.” you quickly correct yourself.

Stacy rolls her eyes at you.

“Why are you even talking to me anyway, you usually ignore me.” Stacy grumbles.

“Well today’s a new day, things change.” you smile at her. “I like your shoes.” you compliment her. Stacy reminded you a lot of your younger self. Quietly unsure of herself and a little bit shy. You give her a warm smile and a few kind words, because it’s only what you would have wanted someone to do for you when you were in her position.

“I like your dress.” she smiles back.

“Thanks! It’s because I’ve got these amazing boobs to fill it out!” you beam brightly.

Stacy and you share a quiet giggle in the hallway. 

“I like your bag too.” Stacy says.

“You’re more than welcome to drop by anytime, I’ve got a bajillion bags anway, just pick out something you want!”

“Really?!”

“For sure, it could be totally cool!” you give her a quick hug before running off. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a party to get to!”

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel

@mrsjellymunson @munsonology @onegirlmanytales @xxbimbobunnyxx @nailbatanddungeon @optimisticallygarbage

[jujumin-translates]

[18TRIP] Event Story | WE ARE M・T・T・B | TRACK. 1

Characters: 🫰 Chihiro Natsuyaki, 🎨 Kiroku Kinugawa, 🌕 Muneuji Kaguya, 🔮 Toi Shiramitsu, 🎸 Nanaki Nanamegi

Location: HAMA House - Terrace

Chihiro: And, there~!

Chihiro: I’ve got an urgent announcement for all of Chii Nation watching this stream right no~w!

Chihiro: So you saw that vid of me dancing with Tenchamu the other day, right? Thanks to Chii Nation, it went crazy viral ♪ Thanksies for all the views, y’all!

Chihiro: And so b-b-b-b-behold! ‘Cause of how viral it went, I got invited to a “Street Dance Competition” that a buncha influencers are going to~!

Chihiro: Ahaha! I’m glad y’all are as hyped as me~!

Chihiro: What, what~? “Isn’t the StreDan Competition the one where some of the best overseas dancers participate? Our Chii-sama is about to become the world’s Chii-sama!”?

Chihiro: No matter where you are, y’all know your Chii’s gonna be right there next to you ♪ 

Chihiro: Hmm? “That video was so cute that I kept watching it over and over again! You’re gonna compete in it obviously, right?”

Chihiro: You betcha~! Personally, I was fully prepared to attend from the start, but as y’all already know, influencer competitions gain crazy amounts of attention, y’know?

Chihiro: That’s why my president was all like, “Go and participate to raise the popularity of HAMA Tours!”, or whatever~.

Chihiro: “Are you participating in it alone?” Ah~, I knew you would be wondering about that.

Chihiro: They’ve got solo slots and team slots for five or more people for this competition, so I’m free to participate in it either way~.

Chihiro: The vid of me dancing with Tenchamu was what started the whole thing, so I kinda wanna do it with him, y’know?

Chihiro: So that’s why I’m gonna participate as a team! And the first confirmed member of the team is Tenchamu ♪ 

Chihiro: At first, he was like super not about it, but after I nonstop pestered him about it day after day, he finally said okay! So like, good job, me.

Chihiro: “Totally shipping whatever this ChiiTen dynamic is.”? As you should be~!

Chihiro: Right! So, Chii’s gonna secretly pick three more members who seem like they’ll be the most interesting, and—.

Neighborhood Cat: Nyaan.

Chihiro: Hm? “Is that cat one of the members?”

Chihiro: No way, the neighborhood meow-meow, and its babies have just been using this area as a walking route lately. I’ll try and interview the real members during the stre~am.

Chihiro: Haha! Chill, y’all~! I’m gonna go and track them down right now~!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Snake Room

*Door opens*

Chihiro: First up is our colorful heaven-sent child, Kirokkuma~!

Kiroku: …, Natsuyaki… san?

Nanaki: What do you mean by “first up”?

Chihiro: You’ll understand everything if you just come with me, so c’mon, c’mon~♪  So I’m gonna borrow Kirokkuma for a bit, cool? Cool!

Nanaki: Oh, sure, here you go.

Kiroku: W-What…?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Horse Room

*Door opens*

Chihiro: And next is~, our avant-garde helmet boy, Munechi!

Muneuji: Natsuyaki-san. Why in the world are you dragging Kinugawa around?

Ushio: Wait, huh? You’ve got a camera…! Hold on, are you live-streaming right now? Don’t ever film me, please.

Chihiro: Don’t worry, just trust in Chii’s recording technique~. Anyway, come with us, Munechi~!

Chihiro: And the last person is… One of you looking at me through the screen. I’m coming to get you now, so… Just sit tight and wait for me ♪

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Pig Room

Toi: Ahhhh~, I’m so excited! Who’s the last person going to be? Who’s he coming to get!?

Toi: I can’t believe how excited I am, Chii-sama really is the greatest idol no matter where you are…!

*Door opens*

Toi: Huh.

Chihiro: And here we are~! The last person I chose is the pure angelic fortune teller Sugargel, also known as Toonya~♪ 

Toi: …, Huh…, Wait…

Chihiro: Ahahah, Toonya froze up like a Jizo statue. Cute!

Toi: M-Me…, …Huh?

Chihiro: Anyway, I’m gonna work super hard with this team~! So y’all better be supporting us, babes ♪ 

Chihiro: That’s it for today’s stream! Bye-byee!

[ Next Part ⇢ ]