#i never got a response to that. i still don't understand

[mapis-putellas]

[ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀᴛꜱ ]

Summary: You never intended to meet the love of your life on a random Friday at work, and you definitely never thought she’d be world famous footballer Alexia Putellas.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

You had a total of five new Spanish words in your vocabulary by the time you got home that evening, your phone tightly clutched in your hands as you distractedly stumble into your apartment and kick off your shoes before closing and locking the door behind you.

It was all beginners stuff admittedly, but you figure you had to start somewhere. Throwing yourself into the deep end by trying to learn full sentences this soon would only end in disaster; as much as you would like that to not be the case.

In all honesty, you weren't too confident in being able to learn a whole other language. You'd never been able to do so before, especially in school when you'd been forced to take French. The only thing you could remember how to say was hello and my name is. If you dug deep down perhaps you could remember how to count to ten too, but that was really all you had.

But Alexia seemed to know English okay, so perhaps you just needed to learn how to understand Spanish not necessarily how to speak it. Was that the easy way out? Probably. But it was definitely a little less daunting.

Your socked feet pad softly against the wooden floor as you make your way through to the kitchen with the intention of fixing something quick for dinner, settling quickly on some craft Mac and cheese that you immediately grab out of the pantry. It may not be healthy, but it was definitely tasty and right now that was all you needed.

You set your phone down, still open on Duolingo as you fill a pan with water and set it down onto the heat. Leaving that to do its thing, you hurry through to your bedroom to change into some comfy clothes. You'd been in a shirt and jeans all day, and it was pretty much safe to say you were over it. People who wore jeans to relax were complete psychopaths and no one could ever convince you otherwise and that's not even mentioning people that sleep in a bra.

It wasn't long until you were back into the kitchen clad in a pair of pyjama shorts along with an oversized shirt, your dirty clothes kicked to the corner of your room to be dealt with later. By now, the water was boiling, and you pour the box of noodles into it before giving it a quick stir and disposing the box into the garbage.

Your phone buzzes against the counter just seconds later, and you scramble over to it, hoping it was the beautiful blonde you'd not been able to stop thinking about. When you see it was in fact her, you can't help but grin elatedly and pick up your phone, eyes skimming over the message.

Alexia: Hola. I hope you got home okay. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?

You: Hey Alexia. I did get home okay, thank you. I hope you did too. And yes I'm free :)

Was the smiley face too passive aggressive? It looked as though it was. Oh well, hopefully she thinks you were just trying to be nice.

Knowing that watching your phone for her reply would only make you all the more impatient, you drain the now cooked noodles at the sink before adding the powdered cheese and butter, giving it a thorough stir before shoving a spoonful into your mouth.

Yum.

The familiar buzzing greets you again just moments later, and your hands were reaching for your phone before your brain had given them permission to do so, the spoon still hanging from your mouth.

Alexia: Sí, I got home okay. Is one okay?

You: one is perfect

Alexia: I will pick you up

You: Sounds good

Alexia: I will see you then

You: Umm, Alexia?

Alexia: Sí?

You: Don't you need my address?

Alexia: Oh

Alexia: Yes please

You smile softly as you send her your address, liking the thumbs up she sends in response before locking your phone and tucking into the waistband of your shorts. Grabbing your bowl of Mac and cheese, you curl up on the corner of the couch beneath your favourite blanket and turn on the tv, only taking a few minutes unlike your usual twenty to decide on a show.

*

You were up the next day a little before ten am, the sun shining in through the partially open curtains opposite that you'd inevitably forgotten to close before finally dragging yourself to bed last night. Groaning quietly as you stretch your arms above your head, you let out a quiet exhale before kicking off and blankets and hauling yourself out of bed. You instinctively shiver when your feet meet the cold floor, yanking the hoodie strewn at the end of your bed over your head as you make your way through to the bathroom.

The sight of your reflection in the mirror makes you glad you have so much time before your date with Alexia, because it was evident you had a whole lot of work to do.

And with just ten minutes to spare, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in your living room completely ready to go. Completely oblivious to Alexia's plans, you'd decided on an outfit that was more or less fit for any occasion. A loose white v-neck T-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. It was warm out today, so you'd tied a thin jacket around your waist. The chance of it actually raining was incredible low, but not completely impossible and you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Your makeup was light and natural, hair pulled up into a half up half down braid with a few loose strands left out to frame your face.

Not a hundred percent happy with how you look but figuring there was nothing you could really do about it, you blow out a deep breath through your mouth before grabbing your keys and wallet from the coffee table and making your way over to the front door. You feel the butterflies in your stomach return with a vengeance as you lock up behind you, and you hoped to god, as you make your way into the elevator and press the button to the ground floor, that it didn't show on your face.

Alexia would be here any minute, and whilst you could almost guarantee she'd be nervous too, you didn't want that to be the only thing you had in common resulting in a less than ideal first date.

You shake off the residual nerves as the elevator doors open, stepping out into the small lobby area just in time for the clock to reach one. As luck would have it, an unfamiliar car you assume is Alexia pulls into the small carpark just as you step outside. You pause by the entrance of your apartment building as you watch her pull her car to a stop, smiling slightly when you see her reach up to pull down the sun visor to get one last look at her reflection before pushing open the door and stepping out of the car.

The smile was immediately wiped from your face the second you see in the outfit she was wearing, your pulse suddenly pounding loudly in your ears as your fingers clench tightly around your phone.

On her body was a white, fitted cropped tank top that was not hiding the fact she wasn't wearing a bra, showing off her tanned, toned arms adorned with a few tattoos and a silver watch on her right wrist. The tank top also gives you a clear view of her...six pack?!

You make a futile effort of ignoring the way your legs turn into jelly as your eyes drop further down her body, taking in the pair of black, high waisted sweatpants that hugged her waist perfectly.

Oh yeah. She was definitely way out of your league. How on earth could someone like her ask someone like you out? You absolutely did not know, but right now, you couldn't quite find it in you to care. She looked insanely good, and only you had the pleasure of seeing that so up close and personal.

Alexia was soon making her way towards you whilst lifting the pair of sunglasses she was wearing to the top of her head, and you smile somewhat bashfully as you watch her look you up and down just as you had done with her. By the way her lips creep up into a satisfied smile you assume she likes what she was seeing and makes you feel a little more confident about the outfit you'd chosen.

Soon, she was in front of you, and the pounding in your heart amplifies when she leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. The feeling of her lips lingers as she pulls away, and you have to refrain from reaching up to touch it knowing that might make you seem a little weird.

"You look really, really good." You murmur with a tentative smile, and Alexia flushes almost bashfully as she tucks her hands into the back pockets of her sweatpants. Your eyes are immediately drawn to her arms at the casual action, and it was only when Alexia pointedly clears her throat do you realise what you were doing.

"Gracias, amor. You do too." She returns the compliment, thankfully not calling you out on your shameless staring as she holds out her hand. She does, however, raise an eyebrow teasingly, and you could so no more than shrug noncommittally you slot your hand into her own. With arms like that, how could you not stare? Asking you not to do so would be criminal.

Alexia seems pleased at your lack of embarrassment, giving your hand a soft squeeze as she gestures towards her car. "Are you ready to go?"

There was a confidence about her today that wasn't there yesterday giving you a little insight into how she may act around the people she both knows and trusts, and whilst a part of you thinks it may be a false bravado due to the fact she barely knows you, you had a feeling that if you played your cards right, one day it might end up being for real. 

One could only hope right? 

"Of course." You respond.

Her skin was both soft and warm, slender fingers intertwining with your own with an ease that you didn't quite expect as she guides you over to the car. She opens the passenger door without hesitation, waiting for you to slip inside and buckle up before rounding the vehicle and slipping into the drivers seat.

You get a hint of the perfume she was wearing as she situates herself, reaching back for her own seatbelt and buckling up. It smells like vanilla, you think. Subtle yet sweet. Just like her.

"So, can I know where we're going?" You question, eyes following her hands as she pulls down her sunglasses so they sat back on her nose. She glances at you as she starts the car, her lips quirking up into a teasing smile.

"It is a secret. I promise you will love it." She assures, checking her mirrors before backing out of the spot she'd parked in.

"What? Come on. I don't even get a hint?" You plead playfully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Alexia smiles as she pulls out onto the main road, both hands steady on the wheel. "It will be fun?” She offers, and you huff out a quiet breath of amusement as you cross one leg over the other.

"Alexia, that's not a hint. I find so many things fun. Does it have something to do with food? Is it some sort of activity? Will we be getting messy?"

Alexia merely shrugs her shoulders as she purses her lips with a soft smile. She leans back in her seat a little, laying her hand palm up on the console between you. Her fingers wiggle invitingly, and you make direct eye contact with her as you rest your hand atop of her own, slotting your fingers in between hers.

"If I tell you, it will not be a surprise." She squeezes your hand softly.

You tilt your head to the side. "I am at least dressed right?"

"Sí," Alexia nods, her hand remaining intertwined with yours as she glances your way before bringing her attention back to the road. "You look perfect. Prometo."

"That means promise, right?" You check.

Alexia glances at you again, the awe in her voice evident as she speaks. "Muy bien!" She praises fondly, and you can't help but smile so wide your eyes crinkle up at the corners.

You knew knowing one word in Spanish wasn't really that big a deal, but the proudness in Alexia's voice makes you want to do it a thousand times over.

In the twenty minute car ride to wherever she was taking you, you share small talk about the basic ins and outs of your lives. You tell her your current favourite song, Alibi, and she tells you the football team she supports. Barcelona. You tell her a little about your family; how many siblings you had and what job your mom did, and she tells you her favourite things to do in her free time. Traveling and playing football. All in all it was pretty basic information, but you had to start somewhere, right?

You were just on the topic of your mediocre Spanish knowledge when Alexia slows the car down, indicating left and pulling into an unfamiliar car park. "You have been practicing?" She asks, pulling her hand out of your own putting on the handbrake.

"A little." You admit somewhat distractedly as you look around your surroundings in a futile effort at trying to figure out where you were. "Okay, where are we? Can I please know now?" You turn back round to face her.

"Soon." she smirks, and you glare at her playfully as you step out of the car, waiting for Alexia to do the same before once again reaching for her hand. They intertwine effortlessly, Alexia locking her car before gently guiding you down the street, only walking a couple hundred yards before gently pulling you to a stop in front a somewhat small looking building.

Through the window, you could see people sat at tables painting what looked to be pottery, and your eyes widen in pure delight as you turn to face an unsure looking Alexia.

"Is this-"

"Oh my god!" You laugh, jumping up and down slightly. "This is definitely not what I imagined but it's perfect. Let's go in! What are you going to paint? I think I know what I want to paint. Maybe we could paint each other something! This is so exciting!"

Alexia watches you ramble with a small grin on her face as she allows you to push the door open and all but pull her inside. You were both immediately greeted by an employee who was quick to get you all set up with your aprons, brushes and paints, both Alexia and you deciding that out of the two tables offered that you would take the one in the back for a little extra privacy. After setting down your things, the kind employee leads you to the shelves that held so many different pottery items it was hard to differentiate what was what.

Despite that, you can't help but be excited when you're both told to take your pick out of any of them.

You hook an arm around Alexia's waist so you could talk to her without disturbing anyone else. "Which one are you picking?"

Alexia tilts her head towards you as she loosely throws her arm over your shoulder. "You said you wanted to paint one for each other, sí? You pick for me, and I will pick for you."

"Okay," you agree easily, keeping your arm around her as your eyes flicker over the shelves. Though it takes a few minutes, you do finally settle on an adorable looking fox. "This one good?"

"Sí. Perfect. This one for me, yes?" Alexia holds out the one she'd chosen, it being a penguin. You nod your head, giving her waist a squeeze before guiding her back over to your designated table. Initially, she'd been sat opposite you, bur with a short glance your way, she moves her things over to the seat next you before sitting down.

You hide your smile at this, but do scoot your chair a little closer to her own so you weren't so far apart. Alexia glances at you, an eyebrow raised, but you merely gesture to the seat opposite that she'd abandoned earning yourself a guilty smile. With a soft laugh that Alexia mimics yet chooses to stifle, you hand over your fox and take her penguin in return.

"So," you start, picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into the black paint. "How did you come up with this idea?" You begin dragging your brush over the back of the penguin, using your free hand to hold it still which results in your fingers immediately becoming covered in paint.

Alexia hums quietly as she swirls her own brush around in the orange paint. "Uhhh, Mapi help...helped me come up with a few ideas. This was the best one."

"Yeah?" You glance her way, Alexia meeting your gaze with a tentative smile as she too begins painting.

"Sí. One of the ideas was...a balloon ride?" She tries unsurely, dipping her brush back into the orange paint.

You freeze mid stroke. "A hot air balloon ride?" You ask incredulously, and Alexia nods somewhat distractedly as she focuses on not getting any paint on her skin. The thought of being that high up in the sky with nothing to keep you from falling to your inevitable death makes you shudder internally. You were so glad she hadn't picked that option because otherwise she would have been going on a date with herself.

"Sí," she nods, looking up at you. She see's the somewhat unsettled look on your face and reaches a her free hand out to rest on top of your own that was laying dormant on the table. "You do not like heights?"

You shake your head with a small grimace. "No, not really." You admit, watching the way her thumb idly strokes the skin on the top of your hand. Was such a simple action supposed to cause butterflies?

"It is a good job I did not choose it then." She acknowledges, and you hum in an agreement as you get back to painting, your free hand still linked with Alexia's.

"That would have been an incredible first date though," you say as an afterthought. "A hot air balloon ride. Can you imagine that?" You laugh, and Alexia nods her head with a quiet chuckle.

"Sí. I could." She agrees, dunking her paintbrush into the water to get rid of the orange paint before pulling it out, drying it off and dipping it into the white paint. "Mapi nearly per...persuade?" You nod. "Persuade me, but I get her to change her mind."

"Wait, you were actually considering a hot air balloon ride for a hot second?"

Alexia nods her head.

"That's crazy expensive Alexia." You laugh a little in disbelief, finishing with the black paint and starting with the white.

"That does not matter. I could take you on ten hot air balloon ride and it will not affect me." She shrugs a little carelessly, and you stare at her in incredulity.

"I have a good job, amor, do not worry." She attempts to sooth you, squeezing your hand that was still holding her own.

You roll your shoulders before nodding your head. A part of you wants to ask just what job she did, but you didn't want to come off as rude or nosey.

"Okay, I think I'm done." You admit, setting your paintbrush down and turn the ceramic penguin to face her. Alexia looks up, her lips quirking up into a satisfied smile.

"That is very good. Muy bien." She praises, and you bow playfully earning yourself soft laugh. You make a silent reminder to yourself to make her laugh again before the dates over, because you'd never heard a sound so perfect.

Alexia finishes off the foxes nose before setting her paintbrush down too, using the tip of her finger to nudge it around so it was facing you. You lean in close, smiling at all the little details she'd made sure to add.

"That's perfect." You praise, bravely leaning in and kissing her cheek. Alexia smiles a little bashfully as her eyes briefly flicker down to your lips before she clears her throat and stands up. "We need to wash our hands, sí?" She gestures over to the far corner of the room.

Despite the fact Alexia didn't have a single speck of paint on her, you nod your head and follow her over to sink anyway. You take turns in washing your hands, allowing Alexia to dry your own for you when she shyly requests to do so. She then places her hand on the small of your back as she guides you back over to the table.

A joint effort was made in cleaning up your workspace, you playfully poking Alexia in the side when she gently nudges you out of the way to pick up your paint water as well as her own. She simply sends you a cheeky smile, one you can't help but mimic as she disposes of the paint before making her way back over to you.

You were told you could pick up your 'masterpieces' in a week, Alexia noting it down on her phone so she didn't forget before paying, not giving you a single opportunity to fight her on the subject despite your futile attempts.

"Alexia-"

"No," she takes your hand and pulls you out of the building. "I ask you out, amor, so I pay, sí?"

"Well I'm paying next time. No ifs, ands, or buts about it." You state firmly, Alexia raising an eyebrow in amusement as she instinctively swings your hands back and forth.

"Next time?" She questions, debating with herself for a second before gently pulling you to a stop and backing you up against a wall down a small alley that would ultimately keep you both hidden should anyone walk by.

You allow this to happen, head tilting to the side as you stare up at her with a look of intrigue on your face.

"You think you can take me on one of the best dates I've ever been on and not expect a second one?" You question, eyebrow raised, and Alexia shakes her head playfully as she reaches up and tucks one of the loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"What if I said the date was not over?" Her hand lingers on the side of your face, the pad of her thumb trailing gently just beneath your eye.

You lean into her touch. "It's not?"

Alexia shakes her head, her eyes once again flickering down to your lips. They linger there for a lot longer than they did last time. "I have one more thing planned, after I..." she looks up to make eye contact once again.

"After you?" You murmur, hopeful.

Alexia visibly swallows as her hand lowers to cup your jaw. "I want to kiss you. Please.”

Your heart pounds at her admission. "Then do it."

Alexia brushes the pad of her thumb over your lower lip, taking in the softness. "Are you sure?"

Your lips parting in a soundless intake of breath. "Sí. Kiss me." You whisper, and Alexia leans down to tentatively connect her lip with your own. The warmth of her mouth immediately sends a current of energy throughout the entirety your body, your insides feeling as though they'd been set on fire.

Your legs instantly turn into jelly, and you can only thank the wall behind you for keeping you upright as you place your hands on the gentle curve of her waist in an effort at pulling her closer.

You could feel the soft tickle of her breath against the tip of your nose as she complies and places one of her legs between your own, her chest becoming flush with yours as her other hand rises to meet the other. Your arms loop around her waist, hands coming to rest against the small of her back.

Her lips were soft, bruising, devouring yours with such reckless abandon you can't help but want more. She was everywhere. Tongue teasing. Teeth nipping. Hands demanding. When she asks for entrance, you immediately grant it, unable to stop the soft groan from escaping your lips when you feel her tongue trace teasingly over the roof of your mouth.

You feel her smile at the sound, and you find it hard to be embarrassed when she continues kissing you like there was nowhere else she'd rather be. You couldn't quite pinpoint her taste, but it was so addictive and so Alexia it took everything in you lot to get lost or swept away.

The kiss ends much sooner than you wanted it too, Alexia pulling away, stealing two more kisses from your lips in the process. She doesn't go far, simply resting her forehead against your own, your rapid breaths mingling in the small space left between you.

"You're a really good kisser." Is all you could bring yourself to say as your eyes flutter closed, hearing her laugh softly in response as she gently brushes the backs of her fingers over your cheek. You can't help but lean into the touch.

"Gracias, amor," she whispers, tracing her thumbs against the soft skin beneath your eyes, a silent prompt for you to open them. Once you do, she leans down just slightly and presses her lips against your forehead.

"You are...asombrosa." She murmurs as she pulls away.

"I don't know what that means." You admit, still slightly breathless.

"You will soon." She promises.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @marysfics

[cillyscribbles]

my modern!cats au giving me, an avid non-smoker, thoughts about smoking and self image, of all things. i will put them under the cut, but meanwhile! enjoy this 1. shameless illustration of my own fic 2. tugger not quite loving the makeup (or costuming) of his poet-murderer role. (yes a local staging of roberto zucco changed my life, very nice of you to ask!)

so smoking bad etc etc don't smoke. anyway, all three brothers deuteronomy smoke, or at least have smoked for large chunks of their lives, albeit for wildly different reasons and standpoints.

munkustrap's been smoking since middle school, his start more or less aligning with the time period when old deuteronomy falls sick, grizabella ramps up her work, and munkustrap, at the ripe old age of maybe 14, starts managing the household and finances and whatnot.

he wishes he'd never started smoking, don't get me wrong. he wishes the relief of the thing wasn't worth it. he quits and starts again throughout the years, over and over and over, climbing into the third decade of the habit without being able to break it, never moving past the numbed feeling of failure for it. it's the one crack you'll occasionally catch in that aged picture of constant steadfastness and responsibility he's got going on.

to be unable to handle it all feels to him as good as giving up entirely. he smokes behind the school. he puts away the ashtrays when he has guests over. he doesn't like smoking with company, and he hates his shame being made known. if you'll allow me a pretentious second, it's sort of like an upward climb that he wants to take on alone so nobody else sees him stumble, and no one helps him if he twists an ankle. it's fine by him because he needs to be able to handle it himself. he needs to.

so. all this, versus tugger, who started well into adulthood and barrelled into it full and consciously. tugger, who smokes to replace sleep and sanity when his life runs on cigarettes and caffeine. but nothing more. he doesn't care to quit, he doesn't care to change. cigarettes look good between his fingers. he knows how to hold them pretty, like he knows everything else about himself that builds the picture he wants.

and, on a more interpersonal level, it upsets him that munkustrap is so acutely ashamed of it, the same way munkustrap is upset tugger is so casual about it. to some degree, though, i think that's because tugger's entirely hyperaware of how fragile life is and on how small a technicality shit can go sideways and end up killing him or anyone else. it's hard for him not to think about it. but it gives him some sort of strength to look for morbid humour in the things munkustrap wouldn't let himself laugh at, i think. it's gallows humour, to be fair, but it's good humour to tugger nonetheless. he finds stakes if not thrilling then certainly intriguing.

besides, making any sort of change to himself for other people, to tugger, is like betraying himself. he's built up that resistance to outside influence, and he's built it up hard and total. he doesn't mold, he doesn't bend, he'll do and look and say whatever he wants, he associates seeking validation strictly with misery. he doesn't understand munkustrap's frustration, or desire to please people, nor does he want to.

the thing with how tugger is, i think, is that he's just prodded at enough for both the street culture he grew up in and the inclination towards self-preservation of someone visibly queer to mesh together into something that can be spectacular and unmovable, and sometimes still turn ugly. i think curiosity is easy to push into cruelty with tugger.

shame is easy to mock for someone who's overcome it and tries hard to forget how insidious it can be. i think both munkustrap and tugger can be cruel to each other without wanting to and without really transgressing toward each other in a way that would dent their relationship, primarily because it's such a strong relationship but also because they're used to some sort of cruelty from the world at least, they just know better where to hit each other verbally to mess each other up. so. self-control, boys. comes to one of them easier than the other, LOL. and again, don't get me wrong. tugger doesn't want to be cruel to munkustrap, but it's not always a thing he can push away the instinct for. munkustrap doesn't want to be cruel to tugger, but he's been making hard decisions for ages and all but expects someone to be hurt by the end of it, and tugger is manageable. so. damn

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

[sskk-manifesto]

\\

[isekyaaa]

The junk thing about mental illness and insecurities is that like... If you've learned how to cope and improve and better yourself, people that haven't been able to do so look at you like your struggles were less than theirs, like you're just naturally stronger of a person or that your struggles weren't as bad. Any advice you give is oversimplifying things. Any help you offer isn't rooted in reality. It's very frustrating to deal with.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Just sending you a bit of love and gratitude for the ways you highlight discrimination in the workplace and actually in all the halls of power in every industry. Some of your anons sound really young, so please keep educating. ❤️

Thanks anon - I really appreciate it. I do really enjoy talking about these issues and think they're really important - I was really looking forward to answering these today and there's more left that I'm looking forward to.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

[fortunately-bi]

Not mad but a bit disappointed at work rn

[bucketofpaint]

Danny is Damian's clone.

He's well aware of it. He wasn't just any clone. He was the very first. That was the difference between Danny and other clones. He was made before the League started using brainwashing and stuff into their cloning process.

When Danny was fresh out of the tube, the League had sat him down and explained his the purpose of his existence, gave him some intense training, and immediately tossed him out into the world.

But the thing was, he just didn't care. He had absolutely no loyalty to his creators, and he had no desire to kill/kidnap his original. So he just started walking. The next thing he knew, he was at some orphanage in Illinois.

And then the rest was history. He got adopted by a pair of enthusiastic scientists and their red-head daughter, got his own name, and he could finally start living his own life.

Danny had put the past behind him and had barely even thought about it at all for a long time. That was unill his original showed up at his school.

----------------

Damien was annoyed. He was stuck at some random Illinois town (supposed to be the most haunted place in the world, which was a bunch of ludicrous.) On a transfer program. He tried convincing Father how illogical it would be, but Father had told him it would be good for him to meet new people.

___

Danny was annoyed.

"I don't understand what the big deal about him is anyways," Danny complained.

"He started being the ceo of Wayne Enterprise when he was a teenager." Sam countered.

"Ok, so, nepotism."

Sam rolled her eyes. "I still don't understand why you're so against him."

"One, billionaire. Two, Tucker is way cooler than Tim Drake.

Sam's eyes soften. " Tucker is just gone for a few weeks."

Danny's cheeks felt warm. "I never said anything about that. I just want Tucker to find a cooler role model, is all.

Sam gave him an all-knowing look. "Well, if you say so. I'm going to get in line."

Sam, all ways waited last to get in the lunch line. Claiming she didn't want to hold up line when the lunch ladies had to get the vegetarian option. Which was fine, but now that Tucker was doing the dumb transfer student program, all he could do was eat his mediocre lunch and mindlessly play on his phone.

Untill someone grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the cafeteria into the hallway. Danny turned around to face the person. He froze at the sight of his own face. Or well, a glaring rich kid version.

"Oh, it's you." Danny said nonchalant, even though he was screaming inside.

"You're not going to play dumb, clone?"

"No, why would I, The resemblance is uncanny.

"What are you doing here?" His original demanded

"You dragged me here."

His original scowled. "You know what I mean, clone. I won't hesitate to end you."

"Just trying to go to school, honest."

Original glared at him, scanning him with his eyes. The grip on Danny's arm loosened. " I'll be watching you, clone."

" Whatever you say, template."

Danny walked back to the cafeteria, blocking out the yells of rage behind him.

___

It was about a week of Damian watching his clone, and he was confused. At first, he thought the league sent the clone to trade places with him before he went back to Gotham, but now he wasn't sure. The Clone seemed to fit in the community to well to have show up recently, but that didn't disprove the theory entirely. It could be a long-term plan from the League. They could be responsible for putting the transfer program in place in the first place.

The other theory was that the clone escaped and made a life for himself, but that didn't explain how he got past his programming.

After the last period, Damian found his clone and pulled him aside.

"What do you want?" His clone asked, irritated.

"You're different then other clones, explain."

"I don't know. I didn't really stick around very long to find out."

"What about your programming?"

"I didn't have any?"

Damian thought about it before giving a small nod. "You don't seem to be a threat, but I'll still keep my eye on you, clone."

"I've got a name, you know." He held out his hand. "Danny Fenton, nice to make your acquaintance."

Damian heistently shook his hand. "Damian Wayne."

That started their unsaid agreement. You don't mess with me, I don’t mess with you. They interacted with each other sometimes, but not very offen. They were impartial to one another, and both sides weren't very keen on getting to know each other. And that was their relationship till the day Damian was leaving.

Damian was waiting for the bus when Danny approached him.

"What do you want, Daniel?"

"I told not to call me that, but uh, here." Danny handed a piece of paper to him. "It's my phone number if you ever need help from the League or anything."

Damian slipped the paper into his pocket. "Give me your phone." Danny handed over his phone, and Damian started typing.

"What are you doing?" Danny asked.

"I'm putting my number in. If you ever require assistance."

Danny smiled, "Thanks."

____

A few months later.

Tim was peeking over a corner.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked.

Tim didn't say anything and just waved him over. He walked over and stared in aw at what he saw. Damian was slouched on the couch, his hair messy, playing on his phone.

A few minutes later, Jason joined.

"Am I hallucinating?" Tim whispered.

"Nah, I don't think so... unless we're all hallucinating." Jason whispered back.

"Do you think he has brain damage or been possessed or something?" Tim asked.

Dick shook his head. "That seems unlikely."

"This is so trippy. I've never seen him wear anything that casually like ever.

"What are you imbeciles doing?"

"We're watching Damian."

All three of them froze and turned to look at a glaring Damian.

Damian walked past them and went right up to the second Damian.

"Daniel, what are you doing here?"

The causal Damian 'Daniel' pulled out a letter. "Your pops invited me, and I didn’t want to risk the chance of batman showing up at my front door."

Damian scoffed, "Of course, Father found out."

Alfred walked in. "Master Daniel, I'll be taking you to Master Bruce."

The double got up and went to Alfred.

"Cookie, Master Daniel?"

"Sure, and call me danny."

[plushlikecreaturesgallery]

so my life is once again in danger

I'm a venezuelan refugee in Spain since 2019. My focus was entirely on escaping and staying in a safe country. When I got here, I got the help of an accountant/manager to start working legally.

He committed fraud in my name without telling me and refused to take responsibility. I was penalized to pay €8600 for his mistake.

I'll add the whole explanation after the read more because you need context to understand what he did.

And now if I can't pay this thing, my residence will be taken away. I will be deported.

I've tried so hard to raise this money. More work, more marketing, preorders, asking for a loan, but nothing has worked.

I have until next month to pay it so I can renew my residence.

All I wanted was to do things right. I thought seeking a professional to handle the legal aspects of my business was the right thing to do. I thought I could finally breathe after being treated like a criminal for years in Venezuela, when all I want is to make my silly little figurines in peace.

I need to take care of my babies (cats) and my parents who are still stuck in Venezuela. I only make enough to live + take care of them, and it's become clear that I can't raise this money by work alone.

So please, any help is appreciated. Reblogs, orders, commissions. I'm so incredibly embarrassed to make this post, but I'm desperate. I don't want to be deported. I don't want to be an illegal alien. I don't want to live in constant fear again.

Here's my Ko-fi link, thank you for reading

https://ko-fi.com/marlikesunicorns/goal?g=0

and this is my shop

There's some context needed to understand what happened, so here it goes.

In Spain, you need to pay a monthly fee of €300 in order to run a business. This goes to the Social Security.

The fee is mandatory, but the government realized it was unfair to charge it from the beginning to a business that's only starting. So they established a reduction of €240 for new entrepreneurs, for 1 year. After that, they'd slowly raise it.

They also gave benefits to people living in certain areas, especially small towns. The fee reduction extended for 6 extra months with this, but only applied as long as you continued to live there for 4 years.

I lived in a small town for 1 year. Then I moved to the closest small city.

But this accountant guy asked for this 6 month extension in my name without my consent.

So then the government demanded I pay the whole €240 for each month ever since I started my business. I went through all the legal processes to ask them to review this thing but it was impossible. They ignored everything. It didn't matter that I only received the benefit for the 1 year that I would've been given anyway for being a new entrepreneur. It didn't matter that I would never be able to afford to pay this in the 15 days they gave me.

If that wasn't enough, I got sick with covid twice, and missed 4 months of work in total, months I got 0 income because they also won't ensure me until I pay the thing. So those fees were also added to the debt + late fees that continue to grow.

Summary: Basically he promised the government I'd live in a small town for 4 years, and when I moved before then (because I had no idea he had done this) they demanded I pay back ALL the benefits they had granted me in the past year.

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

[astonmartinii]

forever and a day | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem long distance reader

nothing can separate them, except maybe 9,000 miles and a couple of oceans.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: finally back in the homeland and reunited with my girl

view all comments

user1: oscary/n nation we are so back

user2: australia always does us so well

yourusername: can you convince mclaren that they should keep paying for our dates

oscarpiastri: i think we were technically working

yourusername: were we? it never feels like work being with you

oscarpiastri: you didn't notice all of the people around us and filming us?

yourusername: i only have eyes for you osc, we know this

oscarpiastri: hehehhehehehee

yourusername: also i have to completely commit you to memory before you fuck off for another couple of months

oscarpiastri: you could always just come with me

yourusername: let me get my degree first, one of us has to be educated osc

oscarpiastri: i have my a-levels? lando doesn't even have gcses

landonorris: why am i catching a stray?

yourusername: because my boyf is smart

landonorris: i've got street smarts 😩

oscarpiastri: you've been catfished like five times already and nearly had your bank details stole?

landonorris: well ... i like to see the best in people?

user3: thank you mclaren for giving us the oscar and y/n content

user4: and the proof that love still exists

user5: terminally lonely girls block mclaren, oscar and y/n.- it's for your mental health

user6: or if you have commitment issues this is some good exposure therapy

logansargeant: oh who did you force to be your photographer this time?

yourusername: you never learnt reading comprehension in school?

logansargeant: i can read i just choose not to read the soppy shit you and oscar say to each other

oscarpiastri: leave us alone

yourusername: you have a problem with us no matter what 🤨

logansargeant: do NOT make me the bad guy for complaining about hearing your guys' sexy time

oscarpiastri: we spend A LOT of time away from each other

yourusername: and by the sounds of it, you could learn a lot

logansargeant: you know what WHATEVER

user7: they terrorise logan so much from opposite sides of the world, pray for him when she can travel with oscar

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 83,409 others

yourusername: i love any piece of you osc but the separation anxiety is kicking my ass

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user9: oscar gave y/n a plush of himself

user10: no cause he's literally such a black cat

yourusername: he blushes just like that as well

user11: oh really?

user12: want to share with the class

yourusername: that's for my eyes only

oscarpiastri: i'm glad he got to you safely

yourusername: i just about tackled the postman 😔

oscarpiastri: poor graham, we should get him a better christmas gift this year

yourusername: yeah sorry graham but you sprayed the kitty with your cologne and i can't be held responsible for my feral behaviour

user13: they get their postman christmas gifts?

user14: they have the same postman?

user15: yes, y/n lives with his family

user16: really?

yourusername: they can't get rid of me

oscarpiastri: they also love her as much as i do (literally, i have to fight my sisters to spend time with y/n)

landonorris: so this is why we were waiting so long for you at the airport

oscarpiastri: well, yes. it's very important i get y/n a souvenir

landonorris: i could've slept for like an hour longer?

yourusername: just because you don't understand true romance lando 🤨

landonorris: i know romance!

yourusername: maccies in a hotel room is not romance

landonorris: you guys are just freaks about each other that's not my fault

user17: y/n hanging out with oscar's sisters is so precious

user18: if they aren't married soon i will no longer believe in love

user19: they're 23?

user20: tbf i forget that because they've been together since they were like 15

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 351,904 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

logansargeant: oscar forced me to post this so y/n could 'remember how hot he is while he's away at war'

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user21: oh wow... thank you logan!

user22: this is not exactly what i was expecting when i opened instagram but alas i'm not complaining

yourusername: WOOF WOOF WOOF

oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭

logansargeant: someone please remind me why i'm friends with you two

yourusername: because we're your only friends?

yourusername: wait sorry that was mean

yourusername: i just get protective

logansargeant: you're telling me 🤨

oscarpiastri: i'm swooning 🥰🩷

logansargeant: i give up

alexalbon: why am i a part of this oscar thirst trap? why are you posting a thirst trap of oscar?

yourusername: HE'S A GOOD FRIEND

alexalbon: i didn't consent to be part of your weird long distance lust

yourusername: oh girl ain't no one looking at you when oscar is there

alexalbon: you know what you're mean :( i want you to stay in australia

yourusername: i promise i'm a lot nicer when i'm with osc, the distance makes me cranky

alexalbon: i see, remind me to never take oscar out in a race

logansargeant: i think that's wise - i heard her yelling down the phone about carlos

yourusername: i had to block him to stop myself

user23: i am honestly so confused

user24: i think we just let them do it, we'll never understand

landonorris: do NOT ask me to do this @oscarpiastri

yourusername: booooooo you're such a debbie downer

oscarpiastri: he's just s fuckboy he doesn't understand

landonorris: i don't think i'll ever understand you two

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 119,056 others

yourusername: one degree hotter xx

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user26: fucking finally now we can get y/n in the paddock every weekend

liked by oscarpiastri

user27: mclaren social media team seen celebrating just as much

oscarpiastri: and i didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter

yourusername: maybe a piastri jersey?

oscarpiastri: and a ring?

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername: you know i'll never say no to that

yourusername: do nOT propose through an instagram comment oscar - nicole

oscarpiastri: noted 😔

yourusername: but name the time and the place and i'll be there baby

user28: so we could defo get a y/noscar proposal this season

user29: i would be so insufferable it's unbelievable

user30: the way i just know it was killing oscar not being able to go

user31: did you guys see the kicked dog eyes in the paddock yesterday 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: they had to force me on the plane

landonorris: no they legit were about to call mick or pato

user32: did y/n convince you to not run away to australia?

oscarpiastri: maybe ....

charles_leclerc: ummmmm who is this oscar? why hasn't your father been introduced?

yourusername: HI

oscarpiastri: y/n is the love of my life and you SHOULD be able to meet her next race weekend

yourusername: so have i also got another father-in-law?

charles_leclerc: you seem to terrorise the other drivers a lot so - yeah!

yourusername: at your service (unless it's you hitting oscar, then there's no MERCY)

charles_leclerc: okay you are kinda scary wtf

oscarpiastri

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,203,677 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: unbelievably proud of you and everything you've done darling. i'm so sorry i couldn't be there to celebrate with you, but i'll make it up to you before you know it xx

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user33: oh to be loved like this

user34: they make me feel lonely like the world apart i can only imagine how insane it'll be when they're back together 24/7

yourusername: i love you so so so much osc. you've done more than you could know by supporting me through my education. we have the rest of our lives to be together, so don't beat yourself about it now

oscarpiastri: but i'm so proud of you and just wanted to be there to celebrate you :(

yourusername: osc i can feel you pouting through the screen baby

landonorris: he really is and it's kinda annoyingly cute

yourusername: of course it's cute it's oscar 🙄

landonorris: right so i'll take back my congratulations then

yourusername: FINE BY ME

user35: obsessed with how y/n and lando already have this weird sibling bond

user36: it's the weird relationship that you kind of love between your gf and friend

user37: it's all cute until they actually fight

yourusername: if he makes any wrong step against oscar i'll crush that loser

landonorris: ahhaaha funny joke

yourusername: you're a 5'5 twig, i could snap you in half

user38: i need them to recreate the last photo when oscar wins his first race

user39: i think pinterest would explode

yourusername: no but no joke, i love you so much osc and i can't wait to start the new chapter of our life

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

oscarpiastri: sorry to my sisters but they're losing their live in stylist because you're never ever leaving me ever again

oscarpiastri: that makes me sound like a possessive asshole but i just have attachment issues

yourusername: no these years since you started in f3 have been actual hell without you and i never want to leave your side again

yourusername: i just love watching you do what you love

oscarpiastri: i'll always love you more

user40: who's chopping onions wtf

user41: i'm invoicing them for my therapy

mclarenf1

liked by fredvesti, arthurleclerc and 1,256,046 others

tagged: yourusername

mclarenf1: don't tell oscar but we've got a surprise guest for him 🤫

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user45: take me out back and shoot me please and thank you

user46: so real of you

landonorris: is this why his phone is currently hidden in my drivers room?

mclarenf1: maybe ...

landonorris: if he fights me for it that's on you guys

mclarenf1: wait admin has just realised you definitely shouldn't be on your phone

landonorris: LOL

user47: mclaren you better not fuck this race for oscar because i need my big rom com ending kiss in parc ferme

user48: omg romance writers do i have a plot for you

user49: the way this would seem so unrealistic if i read it in a book but these fools really have been together for like eight years and are unbelievably in love

yourusername: heheheheh thanks for flying me out on such late notice xx

mclarenf1: no worries queen

yourusername: you guys better be on top form, you can't hide from me in the garage

mclarenf1: hahahaha 😅😅😅

user50: is y/n the reincarnation of nicole scherzinger? like a wag that goes fucking mental

user51: and wears team merch with pride

yourusername: nicole is a queen (thank you for one direction queen) but you guys do not want me on the microphone

user52: you and oscar karaoke? please?

yourusername: we once did breaking free together but you'll have to bother logan for that video

user53: OSCAR PLEASE WIN AND DO DRUNK KARAOKE

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,556,308 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: i told you she was my lucky charm. overjoyed to get my first win, it's a dream come true and to have the love of my life with me makes it even sweeter. y/n, i'll love you forever and a day x

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user54: CONGRATS OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡

user55: i'm having such a proud mum moment

user56: tears in my eyes

user57: not as much as y/n that girl was going THROUGH IT

user58: we need her mascara, cause that shit didn't budge

yourusername: I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU OSCAR

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: AND THANK YOU FOR WAITING FOR ME TO BE AT A RACE TO WIN

oscarpiastri: i guess i just knew in my bones you were here and simply had to win

oscarpiastri: i just wanted to see you so bad that i drove the fastest to the finish line

yourusername: well tell them to hurry up and debrief so we can celebrate 👀

oscarpiastri: ON MY WAY

user59: maybe we will get that karaoke?

logansargeant: congrats bro! @landonorris i hope you brought some ear plugs, if not you might want to start drinking now

landonorris: SOMEONE GET ME A DRINK STAT

yourusername: i'll personally buy you a drink because i'm going to rock his world tonight

oscarpiastri: 😎😎😎

landonorris: and here i thought you were my little innocent teammate

yourusername: there's nothing little about him

landonorris: EWWWW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE

yourusername: all celebrations aside, i'm so proud and i'll love you forever and always x

oscarpiastri: it's always been you and it will always be you

yourusername: i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too

fin.

note: WOOOOOOOOOO OSCAR!!! (i'm ignoring everything else to do with the race, oscar is my king)

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[loves4ge]

tattoo artist!au, cw: partial nudity, mdni

choso can feel his heart stutter in his chest, bumping against his ribcage. god, who just walked in? the pen he's using to draw in his tablet clatters to the ground, though he can't be bothered to pick it up because he is too busy staring at you.

oh, you, with your lovely little dress hitching near the middle of your thigh. strappy sandals and painted nails, you have him hooked. the parlor is dimly lit and smells of ink and paper and alcohol. the kind that's used for cleaning wounds and not the one that you get drunk on with your friends on friday nights. he doesn't even hear your words and you have to repeat them.

"sorry, what did you say?" he sounds out of breath despite not doing any physical exertion. and you grin, that smile would put the sun to shame.

"that's alright. i wanted to get a tattoo but i wasn't sure if you accepted walk-ins?" you trail off towards the end in an inquiring tone. you know that they don't. it's their pinned post on social media.

he does not accept walk-ins. "sure we do, what do you have in mind?"

your eyes brighten, grinning even wider, and choso thinks he might just die and go to heaven right now. he can't stop glancing at you when you show him the designs on your phone.

"where do you want it done?" he asks at the end, opening a blank page on his tablet to finalize a design. you can't help but observe him, leaning over the counter, hair in two twin ponytails and eyeliner done to perfection.

"i was thinking my hip? like if i wore a bikini, i want the tattoo to be partially obscured by the bikini bottoms." choso thinks he may as well have short-circuited with the speed his brain is malfunctioning. you notice his delayed response and almost cooed. he's shy.

this isn't the first time a client has asked for a tattoo in a risqué position, and he's never batted an eye at nudity either. but he's entirely unsure of himself when you strip down to your panties (you ended up taking off the short dress, though you did wear a cami underneath it), and he's thinking maybe he does have a problem with nudity after all (most people call this problem an erection, but choso's not that crude).

"you're gonna have to pull it aside, or i can cut it off." he doesn't specify which part, and now your eyes widen.

swallowing thickly, you ask, "what do you mean?" you know what he means, but you sort of hope he meant something else.

"the side of your underwear, we can just cut a slit—oh," he understands what his previous sentence sounded like when he sees your face contort into disbelief and then promptly dissolve into relief.

he doesn't look at you directly, "sorry, i don't know why i said that. it's, oh god, sorry to make you uncomfort—" he's cut off by your words of understanding.

"it's my fault really. i swear i'm not uncomfortable. really, choso." oh, the money he'd pay to hear his name leave your lips again.

"…if you say so. i'll use the scissors now, if that's okay?" you nod, smiling to encourage him. god knows he needs no encouragement to cut off your panties. there's silence in the parlor except for the sound of fabric being cut. he hands you a small towel to cover whatever you need to, but you just place it to the side. you know what you're doing. choso isn't sure if you're an angel or the devil.

he makes sure his ponytails aren't loose and puts on some nitrile gloves, black like his hair. you're wondering if you should break the silence, make some small talk, put the boy out of his misery, or just let the tension simmer.

"i really like the face tattoo thing you've got going on." he snaps up to look at you, then immediately reddens. his fingers hover above the black stripe across his face.

"yeah?"

"mhm." you lift your hand, thumbing his cheek where the tattoo ends. he's still the entire time.

you'd be the death of him.

with careful hands, he sanitizes the part of your hip where the tattoo would go on. he may have taken a little bit longer than usual, his fingertips pressing into your skin with the thin layer of an alcohol wipe acting as a barrier. your skin is soft, and he wants to grip your hips more actively. without the façade of a tattooist doing his job.

you're not feeling calm anymore, and in a sudden fit of unadvised decision-making, you grab choso's wrist (this choice was not peer-reviewed by your groupchat, but at the moment you find it in yourself that you don't really care). he startles but doesn't say anything.

"i'm nervous," you murmur. he instantly softens, melts, and reaches out to grab your shoulder in a sort of platonic 'i'm there for you' way. you're not planning to be platonic.

"that's alright lovely, everybody gets nervous before tattoos. it's more common than you think. would you like water?" his voice is soothing, and the way his lips move. you know what you need. you know what would calm you down.

"i know another way we can get rid of my nerves."

"mm, how so?"

"kiss me."

he almost chokes. he looks at your dead serious expression.

he is so fucked.

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

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“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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[togament]

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄.

sakura, ume, suo, kaji, kiryu, endo, togame.

"ever imagined how it'd be like to be in the mood with them but damn it. You're separated by distance? Mhm. I got just the thing for you."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: PHONE SEGGS UH OH!, language language swearing swearing, AFAB!reader, ume switchy :o, endo's a fucking menace :((((, TOGAMMMMEEEEEEE *howls!!!!! barks foaming at the mouth*, toy usage, your man straight up “jorking it” and by it haha well lets justr say his peanits, degradation on endo's part--general seggsy time stuff and needy boyfriends, NSFW STUFF MINORS DON’T INTERACT PLS.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

✦ gotta guide him through it. At first, he didn’t really see the appeal of it. Why do it over the phone when you could meet up instead. ✦ but OH once he’s in the zone though, ONCE HE UNDERSTANDS? SEES THE LIGHT????? I’m wishing your pussy good luck because you’re doing it often. ✦ your phone rings sometimes at 2 am and you’re met with a panting Sakura. He sounds so apologetic too — he’s fought against calling you and just handling it himself. But he couldn’t help it. He has to call you. To hear you. ✦ “Strokin’ my cock right now. F-fuck m’sorry but can ya touch yourself for me too? Couldn’t get ya outta my head and I—ngh.. Need t’cum. Please, baby. It’ll be quick. Promise.” ✦ narrator’s voice: it was in fact, not quick at all. ✦ he likes sending over voicemails at night when he knows you're alone, when he's needy (which is often). ✦ it's mostly just of him panting into the receiver, recalling the events of the day and how each thing you did turned him on. You often end up sending each other voicemails to quench the thirst but god damn it. That doesn't come close to fucking.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀.

✦ another one of the ":o I don't see the appeal of phone sex when we could just see each other instead?" gang. He sees the vision real quick when you dropped something while you were talking though. You bent down to pick it up and let out a soft grunt. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering. ✦ BIG ON PRAISE. GRUNTS AND SIGHS INTO THE RECIEVER LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. LOVES DOING IT WHILE HE'S LAYING DOWN, PANTS HURRIEDLY UNBUCKLED AND MESSY, SHIRT HAPHAZARDLY THROWN TO THE SIDE. PHONE WEDGED IN BETWEEN HIS CHEEK AND SHOULDER WHILE HE STARTS STROKING WITH ONE HAND AND THE OTHER TANGLED IN HIS HAIR, GRIPPING IT LIKE YOU WOULD--(gets dragged off stage kicking and screaming) ✦ big switch. He's Umemiya, after all. He's the feared and respected leader of the Bofurin for a damn reason. Very sweet when he's just in the mood on a random day, chuckling in between because that's just how the both of you are. It's fun! But when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days? Oh FUCK. When his voice would normally grow soft and whiney, has morphed into growled responses with him fucking his fist desperately, trying to remember how your cunt would swallow him whole. ✦ "G-Good girl, my good fuckin' girl. Filling your pussy up with that dildo you bought? Not good enough, huh?" he adds, grunting as he's imagining you fucking yourself with the dildo, panting and unsatisfied, knowing full well you need him filling you up instead. "I really miss you, babe. You'd look so pretty-gh-! Underneath me right now. So pretty." ✦ cums hard every time you're on call, grunting and wheezing out your name so desperately you almost feel like he's trying to summon you somehow. ✦ Thanks you for it too. It's cute!!! Ends with both of you cleaning yourselves up, still on call. You both often fall asleep together with your phones still on.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

✦ you both call often. He just loves hearing your voice! Thing is, you never know when he's in the mood. But he somehow can tell whenever you are. What gave it away? Was it the way your breathing stilled when he let out a sigh when he stretched? Was it the way you tripped over your words when he lowered his voice just a tad? Was it when you were left speechless when he praised you for finishing a task you were putting off? Was his teasing working on you? Whoopsies. ✦ INSTRUCTIONAL WITH IT. He’s so good at directing you what to do. ✦ “Want you to imagine my fingers, dove. Why don’t you ease just two in for me? That’s my girl. Now curl them up a little. Keep your mind on me." ✦ you want him to feel good too :(((((( so you ask for him to do the same as you. Of course, he lets you beg a little first. Little did you know he was already fucking his fist before you even started. ✦ has one of your clothes or panties close by because he loves smelling them. He loves your scent. It helps him get off. Hell, he gets horny in public when he takes a whiff of your perfume. ✦ he gets more vocal when he cums and that’s when you KNOW for sure he’s jacking off while listening to you. String of expletives and grunts escape his lips while he spills onto his hand, dribbling down his knuckles while you’re riding out your high.

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

✦ FILTHY. FILTHY. FILTHY. ✦ doesn't have much toys but he has a tenga flip and uses it whenever he calls you. Can’t just go full hand and lube. (Probably has a warmer for it too. Mhm. Yeah.) ✦ another "clothes stealer". Has stolen your panties and shirts a couple of times. ✦ you can hear the wet squelching through the phone whenever he thrusts. Whether it’s lube or his cum, you could never ever tell. ✦ AGAIN, FILTHY. SO SO SO SO FILTHY. ✦ “y’getting off to this, huh? Listening to me fuck my toy? Fuckin’ know you’re soaking wet for me now. Lemme hear it. Lemme hear my pussy.” ✦ “keep up with me. Don’t you fuckin’ cum until I say so.” He barks, but he ends up cumming before you. He’s still pumping his sensitive cock waaay after he’s released though. He wants to hear you fall apart. ✦ bites back his whimpers but when he cums? Jesus. He’s stuttering out your name, repeating it like a damn prayer.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

✦ HAS SO MUCH TOYS HOLY FUCK. ✦ he sends over photos of them before he calls, wanting you (yes YOU, dear reader!) to pick the toy of the night!!! ✦ he’d much prefer doing your mutual masturbation over facetime but you suggested a voice call. Who is he to deny his princess? ✦ always opens with a syrupy sweet, “How’s my baby?” and eases you into it with him. He never starts without you or without your express approval. If you’re suddenly not in the mood, he gets it. It happens sometimes. You guys could just talk instead. ✦ praise praise praise. Whispers the raunchiest and sweetest things to you. Talks you through it, guides you. HE’S WAY TOO GOOD. ✦ “Need my pretty princess right now. Need ya to sit on my face—taste so good. Fuck… Your pretty little moans too. I’m addicted.” ✦ “Remember when I did that thing you liked with my tongue? Yeah? Want you to do that on your clit with your fingers. Circle around it f’me, princess. Mhm.. Oh? Not good enough? Need my piercing on it? Naughty.” ✦ PORNOGRAPHIC MOANS. SO FUCKING PRETTY??? You’ve asked for his permission to record some of them. Of course he lets you. ✦ sends photos of the aftermath if you want him to. His cum on his still clenched abs, his trimmed happy trail, over his belly button piercing. Yum. ✦ HAS DEFINITELY POSTED ON GWA YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.(it’s JOI too :(((( he’s secretly dedicated some audios for you. May or may not have accidentally whispered your name in one of his jerk off with me audios too :(((((((( man I’m sobbing into my pillow. Nobody touch me.)

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

✦ you can’t look at this man and say he’s shit at phone sex. You can’t convince me otherwise. You just can’t. ✦ of course, he’s absolutely cracked at talking dirty to you. It’s always a mix of praise and degradation with him. ✦ he’d be happy if you just sent him nudes, really. But he’s over the moon once you suggested to do it over a call. Immediately is palming his hard on through his jeans while he’s waiting for you to pick up. Opens with a casual little, “hey, honey,” you wouldn’t know he’s practically going to town on his cock, hot to go. ✦ with how sweet he could be to you, he could be so, so fucking mean too. ✦ “My, my. That was such a pretty sound you just made. Wanna do that again for me? Wanna hear my pretty little cockslut begging for me while I fuck my fist. Yeaaah, just like that. Louder.” ✦ the type to send in voicemails at random times of the day. You know they’re exclusively for you since he’s practically chanting out your name while he fucks himself. You’ve made the mistake (plenty of times) of listening to some of them in public. Thank god your phone wasn’t on full volume but people definitely heard your boyfriend fucking his fist. ✦ you put him in his place when you get home by tying him down to the bed and edging him to hell and back and back again and back again and back again and—

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

✦ THIS MANNN…. He knows how to use his voice. He KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS VOICE SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK— ✦ he really doesn't like texting. So you both often call each other at the end of the day when you're apart. You're often apart too, with work and with it taking you to different cities. He's home alone at your apartment with your pets, with your clothes beside him on the couch. See where this is going? :-)) ✦ "Miss ya. Fuck, I really miss ya. Even the cats miss yer constant yappin'-" he teases and he's palming his cock through his gray sweatpants when he hears you shoot a clever quip at him. "Mhh-doll, I really do fuckin' miss ya. Especially when we wake up in the mornin'? Yeah. When ya press yer ass up against me, miss how ya know how to touch me just right-" "Jo, are you touching yourself right now?" he has the gall to chuckle. "Wanna see?" He was so ready to switch to facetime, to show you how he's lazily dragging his fingers up and down his throbbing cock, gray sweatpants pulled down just enough to pull it out. But you wanna stay on the call. You're rushing to your bed, hand in your shorts as soon as you lay down. ✦ likes dirty talking. LOVES when you talk dirty to him back. He's whispering phrases like, "mhm, yeah?", "what do ya want me t'do to ya when you get back?", "what else, angel?" prodding you on, urging you to express your deepest desires to him because he's NEEDY NEEDY NEEDY. (He knows you're as eager as he is too) ✦ wants to cum with you so he edges himself until you say you're almost there. Wants to match your pace and tries to by listening to your breathing, the rhythm of your moans. Never fails to tell you he loves you after he cums. ✦ promises a huge surprise for you when you get back :-)

a/n: THESE WERE SO FUCKING FUN TO DO RRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRHRHR!!!!!!!!!!!!! *insert werewolf ripping clothes open meme here* I hope you guys like it. The brainworms are wriggling mighty strong.