#way. I don’t even know why I doubted that we’ll change

[secretwhumplair]

Changing season

1,083 words | No Warrior (sequel to Quiet)

Content | Implied fear of abandonment, mention of death

Notes | Time marches on! Traditions must be followed!

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots

Winter, as it always did, passed, and Runar was faced with yet another difficult confession.

He knew he wanted to let Yves know on his own terms this time, and it was bound to come out at some point. So one day, when they were taking another walk along the cliffs in the now-shallow snow, the seagulls crying above, he charged forward.

Yves looked peaceful, standing on the cliff and looking out across the waves below. It had been a quiet few months. Things had almost returned to normal — Yves had even returned to seeking comfort in his arms after his nightmares, something that made Runar’s heart stumble.

But now…

»I’m going to sail again this summer. If the weather is good, we will set out next month.«

Yves turned to face him, but remained silent, his face nearly blank, so he pressed on, »The offer stands: if you want to — go back,« he couldn’t call it go home, »we’ll take you. But I don’t think you want that.« He almost regretted the words, but it felt wrong to leave them unsaid — make it sound like it was Yves who had voiced any desire to leave the place he had… made his home?

Runar so hoped that was true. Gods, he didn’t want Yves to leave, even… even just like this.

Yves shook his head; a small smile appeared on his lips, but it was gone in an instant. »You’ll leave? For how long?«

»A few months. We’ll return come fall, when the sea is too dangerous to sail. Probably early September.«

Yves scrutinized him; his sweet, sharp eyes seemed to look right through him. He had come such a long way from the meek little thing who could barely glimpse at him. »You’ll fight, won’t you? You might not come back.«

Runar stayed silent for a moment. But even the children old enough to ask these sorts of questions weren’t told comforting lies — much less was he going to play pretend to an adult man who already knew the answer. »Yes, that’s the nature of it.«

»I want to come with you.« The words came with a sudden fierceness that stunned Runar. »I can help.«

»You…« Runar had tried his best to convince Yves that he was brave, that he could fight, but he also knew he was not ready. He’d barely started training. He wouldn’t be ready by summer. How could he make Yves understand that without confirming his doubts about himself? He was surprised Yves even raised the possibility. He, Runar, hadn’t even considered it, certain that Yves was a long way from feeling strong and confident enough for it — if ever he would.

And truly, he was taken aback that Yves would even want to fight, as if his hesitancy to admit he could might have another reason. Perhaps he had been too comfortable in seeing Yves as just someone to be protected. He shouldn’t have, really — he had proven time and again he was able to fight, and this was just a different kind. That was a part of… but he didn’t allow himself to finish the thought.

Yves was still looking him frankly in the face. »What if you don’t come back? What will I do then?«

Runar shook his head. »You’ll weave. You’ll live here. My family will take care of you, if you struggle. Which,« he couldn’t keep his voice from softening, »I don’t see a reason why you would.«

Yves scrutinized him further, then turned away again. »I don’t want you to…« He left the sentence unfinished.

»I’ll be doing my very best, I swear.« The light-heartedness he tried to infuse in the words was dampened a bit by the serious concern on Yves face. He was worried for Runar. »I’ve been fighting for six summers. Most I got were a few scratches, if that helps.«

Yves thoughtfully shook his head, then looked at Runar again. »You’d take me back?«

»If you want to.«

This time, the head shake was more decisive. »I don’t know what for,« Yves whispered, the waves below almost drowning out his voice.

»But you want to come?« Runar asked quietly.

A soundless sigh let Yves’ chest collapse. »No, I suppose not.«

But he looked up at Runar again with bright, expectant eyes, so Runar explained, »You might, one day. But you’ve only just started practicing your fighting skills.«

Yves snorted and turned away. »No, it’s fine. I know I could never fight with you. I don’t know why you keep saying that.«

Which Runar felt was an unfair assessment. They hadn’t talked about it in months; they’d just continued Yves’ practice — even in the awkward days after Runar’s stupid confession, when it almost became a comfort for both of them, a ritual of interaction where truly nothing had changed. Yves’ condition continued to improve, strength and speed recovering with the regular workout; it was true he would never be as strong as most of the warriors, but he was a quick little thing.

But they hadn’t talked about any of it.

»It’s… it’s up to you.«

»No, it’s not.«

»At any rate, training has been doing you good. If you want, you can join the others in their classes, you’re more than ready for that. Most of them are a little younger than you, but…« Runar shrugged. It would be obvious to anyone why Yves was with the beginners; nothing weird about it.

Yves threw him a glance. After a moment’s consideration, he quietly answered, »Yes. I suppose I would like that.«

»Good. I’ll talk to Agnarr, he trains the-«, he almost said »whelps,« like they always did, »-the beginners.«

»Hm.« Yves was looking out over the sea again, almost as if searching for a ship on the horizon.

Which maybe he would be doing.

»I’ll be glad to come back to you. And to know that you’re safe,« Runar said quietly. »But they need a healer.«

Yves nodded without looking at him. »Yes, they need a healer.«

»I’ll… if you will, I’ll tell you how to take care of the garden over the summer. So far my family has been doing it, but now that you’re here…«

»I’ll do it.« The answer was as quick as Runar expected — Yves always wanting to make himself useful.

»Thank you.«

Yves turned around again, pinning him with a look. »I want you to come back.«

Runar couldn’t promise it, he couldn’t; but he managed a smile. »I’m looking forward to it.«

[milf-louis]

.

[lani-heart]

ATEEZ -> HOW'D THEY GIVE ORAL?

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI ||

genre(s) -> reaction, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> ( separately ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> pure smut... like all of it is smut. MDNI

-> KIM HONGJOONG 

Out of all of the members, Hongjoong is who I’d consider the biggest tease and menace. He’d mock you and overstimulate you, probably thinking of this as punishment if you act out. If you couldn’t handle cumming for the fifth time alone with him just eating you out he’d pout and also fake sympathize with you. He’d talk you through it and keep on making you cum even after your squirt. You already made a mess anyway so why should he stop? He isn’t the type to get off of your pleasure to worship you but does it more for entertainment to see you whine and squirm because of him. A huge sadist getting off on how you can’t take it anymore. Maybe even with a slight dumbification kink in there where you’d cum so many times that you can’t even think straight. Would doubt he’d even stop if you passed out ( he’d be worried and make sure you’re okay before going back at it ) and still tease you when you wake up. 

“I can’t believe how big of a mess you’ve made… who’s gonna clean it up?” he would say and go back to eating you out saying he was simply cleaning the mess and you were making the mess bigger.  “How is that my fault?” 

-> PARK SEONGHWA 

Arguably the best at oral. Also, the second biggest pussy whipped member here. I think he is one of the members who’d get off of your pleasure and want to hear you cum over and over again. He could skip the whole part of his pleasure and purely be satisfied with making you cum on his tongue alone. Not much of a talker like Hongjoong but instead is pussy whipped where nothing can pull him away from you. Stuck like this for hours or an eternity if he could. Even if you move to close your thighs while he’s still overstimulating you, he’d only chuckle. He wasn’t close to finishing… this was where he’d stay because this wasn’t just about pleasuring you but also his own pleasure. It was as if he was starving or thirsty and hadn't had water for days. 

“Let me have one more, just one more time” he’d beg after you tried to pull him away too overestimated to continue further. Though one more… turned into two then three, etc.  “Promise this is the last one” 

-> JUNG YUNHO  

I don’t see Yunho as the type who’d do oral often and would probably only do it as foreplay. Using his fingers more than anything and… we know why. When he would it would be a mix of foreplay and fingering. He isn’t a menace or as mean as other members but if you were to act out I see him more like being a jerk where he’d make you beg for him to pleasure you. He’d use oral as a way to tease you before finally giving in to what you want as well as adding fingers into the hither movement to try to make you cum or even squirt. I don’t see him doing it often for a long time but would do it briefly as foreplay. 

“Why should I?” he’d tease to get you to beg before you were a whiny mess and laugh and smirk at your expression before kissing your clit.  “Okay okay… we’ll do what you want for now”

-> KANG YEOSANG 

This man is scheming… I can see him one day scrolling on Tiktok and finding that one trend of feeding your partner pineapple the whole day. He’d go to the store and buy a bunch of pre-cut pineapple and throughout the day when you’re busy, he’d feed you one until you either notice or you’ve finished the pineapple he bought. Once you finish it he’d have to try to get you into the mood where he’d decide today was an experiment so he’d worship you and tell you later. Though… if it did change something he’d become addicted. Probably would be stuck there for a while even after you come until it's too much after each time he makes you cum. He’d just praise you and how you taste that he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably also decide not to tell you about what he did anymore and implement pineapple in your permanent diet. 

“You taste so good… just enjoy it” he’d say completely pussy drunk moaning into you making the pleasure even more unbearable while he wouldn’t even stop to breathe.  “I don’t think I can get enough of you”

-> CHOI SAN 

The manhandler… he would ask you to also sit on his face. He’s been working out a lot, after all, he could take it. If you were nervous about it he’d just pick you up from your thighs and lay down not letting you go. He wouldn’t even mind, he wants you to put your entire weight. However, I could see him as more of a giver than a receiver even if you offered to help him off when you're on top of him he’d deny it and whine and groan if you moved. Only tightening his grip on your thighs that you’d get bruises. I don’t think it helps that this whole era he’s been a cowboy, he probably also teased you that if you have the cowboy’s hat you’ll need to be able to ride him in return. He could do it for hours until he has no more self-restraint and you have enough pretty red hickies and even the yellow bruises that’ll turn purple tomorrow. 

“I wanna show you why I’ve been to the gym” he’d say only encouraging you to sit on him and when you did his tongue would explore everywhere it could... barely even taking breaths in between.  “Don’t be shy, princess” 

-> SONG MINGI 

I also don’t see him as someone to do oral often, probably more of a greedy lover for his own pleasure though I think he would like your reactions. Teasing you with pussy slaps in between him sucking your clit and edging you until you cry literal tears. He’d probably do it for his own entertainment rather than your own pleasure and would just tease you to later give you a bigger orgasm. He would also probably leave marks and would only stop once you’ve squirted. If you do come after all the edging he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and want to feel himself around you. Everything for him is just to see how you squirm and cum because of him. 

“You were about to cum? I’m sorry love” he’d say teasing you and you would be able to hear his disingenuous tone. He’d go back to teasing making you cry.  “Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” 

-> JUNG WOOYOUNG 

Pussy Drunk. Gets off on your pleasure and will cum in his pants because of it. After a long day of choreo just to relax and get off he’ll trap you on the couch and piss your clit through your clothes until you finally agree and get rid of your sleeping bottoms. He’d probably make you keep your panties on. Tasting you through your underwear teasing and restraining himself until he couldn’t handle it and needed to taste you from the source. Would lose track of time that he’d probably get off by humping the couch or a pillow while hearing your moans and eating you out. I think he probably wouldn’t hear you if you started to whine out that it was too much and be so lost in your pleasure that you’d have to pull him away. 

“Mmhmm… please I need one more” he’d beg and cry just to continue tasting you and of course how could you ever deny a tired and pouty Woo.  “I just wanna feel and taste you some more”

-> CHOI JONGHO 

He’d definitely use oral against you. Maybe the meanest member when it comes to punishment. He would tie you up, give you what you want until you beg to cum when he’ll stop and leave you in the room for in theory a few seconds but for you feels like forever wanting to cum so badly and wanting him to come back until you finally apologize for being a brat, begging for him to come back. He would tease you until you finally beg him to finish you off, he’d really only use oral during punishments or special occasions or… when he felt that you learned your lesson and should be rewarded. 

“You’re sorry, right? I think we should reward good behavior” he’d tease seeing your pouty and tear-stained face before aiming to make you come. But when you do… it was really intense and– “You can give me a few more right? To make it up to me?”

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[lowkeyremi]

YOU’RE DOING GREAT, MAMA !

pairing: ushijima x fem!reader note: this has been in my drafts foreverrrr. it’s finally seeing the world thank God. i need to write more abt toshi summary: your husband comforts you through postpartum depression. content: angst, fluff, bittersweet moments, marriage, implied pregnancy, reader doubts her ability to be a mother, etc

The three of you returned home after three days in the hospital. During those three days you haven’t really been yourself at all.

Your baby boy, Nao was born healthy and strong. He’s doing all the normal stuff a newborn should do, but for some reason when you look at his tiny face you feel dread pitted deeply in your stomach.

Shouldn’t you feel joy when you see your little baby’s face? A lump forms in your throat as you start to think of the worst outcomes. Are you… rejecting your child? There’s no way. You and your husband spent months waiting for little Nao’s arrival. You were so excited setting up his room and buying him stuff. The ultrasounds were also very amusing to look at.

None of that excitement remains right now. “You must be tired, honey. Since you’ve already nursed him I’ll put him to sleep.” Wakatoshi pulls you out of your saddening thoughts. He shoots you a look of worry, because you’re clutching your chest tight, like you’re struggling to breathe.

“O-okay. Thank you ‘Toshi.” A faux smile crosses your face just to try and reassure your husband. He walks off to Nao’s nursery with his baby carrier in hand, but you know that he knows you well enough to ask what’s wrong later.

While your husband put Nao to sleep you changed out of your clothes into some comfy pajamas and you head to the bathroom to pee, brush your teeth and wash your face.

As the minty paste foams in your mouth you start thinking about your son again and you don’t even notice that you’re crying until-

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” His voice comes soft and he uses his big hands to wipe away your salty tears.

You spit out the toothpaste, and in a few seconds you’re rinsing your toothbrush and your mouth out.

“I’m not sure- I just- I-” you pause letting out a shuttering breath, how do you even explain something like this? “I’m not as excited about Nao as I had been before he was born…”

Wakatoshi engulfs you in a hug from behind. “I’ve noticed at the hospital how you didn’t want to hold him much.” He too pauses before continuing on, “I was reading into this a few months earlier, but many women get postpartum depression after their baby is born.”

“This doesn’t make any sense, we just brought a life into this world and I don’t even feel any excitement about it.” Wakatoshi rubs small comforting circles onto your stomach which hasn’t completely gone back to its normal size.

“‘Toshi am I a terrible mother already?” You ask looking at him through the mirror. His brows furrow at the suggestion and he shakes his head violently which almost cheers you up because it’s so out of character for him.

“Not at all. Please do not talk about yourself that way. You’re going to be an amazing mother. Just give it some time.” He’s telling the truth, Wakatoshi is nothing but brutally honest about things, so you have no choice but to believe him.

Although, everything feels like it’s not okay, you allow your husband to comfort you through these baby blues. It won’t last forever, you tell yourself, as you put your toothbrush back in the cup.

Wakatoshi kisses your temple, it’s so soft and delicate. “We’ve created a beautiful baby boy and he’s going to grow up with the most loving parents.” He means that too, Wakatoshi grew up in a divided household so it’s no wonder he wants his son to grow up in a household that’s warm and loving.

“You’re right, we’ll raise our baby boy the best we can. Thank you ‘Toshi. I really needed to hear that. I was starting to spiral.” He squeezes you in a hug again.

“It’s nothing, and if you ever feel yourself in these baby blues again, just let me know, so I can remind you that you’re a great mother.” What in the world did you do to deserve this man?

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[justauthoring]

Just to be Enough [1]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if geto had called you that night?

a/n: this will more or less just be a collection of different one shots of potential moments of a relationship with geto and gojo. sometimes the plotline might change :)

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three - four

-

His hands were shaking.

Part of you thought yours were as well.

You weren’t sure what to say – what was there to say? Being awoken by a call from Geto at three in the morning certainly wasn’t how you’d expected your day off to start; nor was the shakiness of Geto’s voice something you’d ever expected to hear. He was always confident, in your many years of knowing him that was something you’d come to expect – the unwavering confidence that both him and Gojo displayed no matter where they were, what they were talking about or what was happening.

He’d sounded afraid and distressed and on the brink of… you weren’t even sure what. Your heart pounded with fear of just exactly what.

Two girls. That’s all he’d manage to utter. Something about two little girls, locked and beaten and… his voice was twisted with something terribly painful and he was breathing heavily, words mixing together with his panic. You swear you’ve never called for Ijichi so quickly, now in a state yourself; enough that you hadn’t even had the politeness to feel sorry for waking the poor man up so early and abruptly.

It was when you were in the back seat of the car that you called Gojo.

“Something’s wrong with Suguru.”

“...what’s wrong?”

He’s away on a mission of his own. Just like he always was nowadays. It had been hard on your relationship, always missing one piece to make you all whole; but you understood, just like you understood that Geto was called on just as many missions. It was something you’d long ago come to terms with if you were going to be with the two strongest sorcerers, and you had no doubt about what that meant in terms of being physically with them.

Perhaps he’d answered, despite being on a mission, so quickly because, like you, he’d noticed the steady decline of Geto over the past few months like you had. Noticed but deflected every time you’d tried to ask. You’re a sorcerer yourself, and while you might not be as strong as them or sent on as many missions, you know the strain it puts on one's well being. You see it in yourself, in them, in your friends. 

It seems Gojo did as well.

And, if truth be told, not a single one of you had made it out of that mission last year the same.

It had taken you a second to reply, mainly because you weren’t sure how to. “I don’t know,” you confessed with a choked breath, “he just called me, said he found two girls. Satoru, they’d been locked in a cage, starving and with bruises all over them. I tried to get him to calm down enough to tell me where he was. But he sounded…. wrong.”

There’s an echoing pause, then; “you’re on your way now?”

You nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I'll be there.”

You hear the sound of him pulling away, as if to hang up; you can’t stop yourself from crying; “Toru!”

There’s a moment of silence before you hear him respond, rather softly; “yeah?”

“I’ve never heard him sound like that, Toru. I’m scared about what I’ll find when I get there.”

It feels wrong to admit – why would you be scared to see Geto? A boy you’ve loved since you’d first walked into class on your first day at Jujutsu Tech and laid eyes on him? But you are, terribly so; your hearts racing and it feels like you can’t breathe the closer and closer you get. You don’t know how to help – that was the whole issue of it all; how? How can you help him? How can you make it better?

What if you didn’t?

“I’m gonna be home soon, okay, Y/N/N?” Gojo whispers, gently; so opposite of how he normally sounds. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Just get him home.”

You nod, once again, “okay,” you whisper.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Toru.”

You’re pulled up next to Geto ten minutes after that.

He’s standing there, the jacket of his uniform taken off, left bare in his white button up and slacks. When your eyes flicker lower, to the two little girls standing beside him, you find his jacket wrapped around the two of them; big enough to envelop them fully, huddled together. As you pull up beside him, stopping just in front, you first notice the girls; bruises and scuffs marked all over their skin, what little clothing they have on them ripped, dirty and clearly old, and then you see their big, wide, afraid eyes staring back at your own and your heart breaks.

When you raise your gaze, you meet Geto’s. He’s already staring at you, but his expression is blank; like he’s staring right through you.

You send a nod Ijichi’s way before opening the door, slipping out into the cool night air.

The girls are watching you carefully, shuffling closer to Geto, clearly scared of you, and as you stand fully, letting the door shut gently behind you not to scare them, you glance at Geto just briefly before crouching, so you’re at eye-level with the girls.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduce softly, voice extra quiet so as not to spook them. “I’m Suguru’s friend. What are your names?”

They glance at each other, slowly, unsure, before looking up at Geto. He nods, a simple, silent gesture and then, as if relaxing, their tensed bodies ease and the lighter haired one speaks up first; “i’m Nanako and this is Mimiko,” she introduces her sister for her, and when you glance at the twins, it’s clear who protects who. The thought brings a smile to your lips, thinking back fondly to memories of your past, and nod.

“Those are such pretty names,” you smile, eyes crinkling with warmth. “Are you both cold?”

Nanako nods slowly, and you watch as Mimiko’s lips tremble.

“It’s nice and warm in the car, and there’s a nice man named Ijichi who’ll give you some snacks, okay?”

They look to Geto for guidance once more, and all it takes is one more simple nod before Nanako is eagerly grabbing Mimiko’s hand, pulling her sister forward just as you open the car door. They clamber in, and you adjust Geto’s jacket around them better as they huddle to the middle of the back seat, still holding tightly onto one another, before you let the door shut gently.

Left with Geto, silence echoes as you slowly push yourself up.

Then, with a shaky breath, Geto whispers; “I wanted to slaughter them all.”

His words scare you, but you force yourself to swallow down the fear, reminding yourself who this is and where you are. So, with a small step forward, you close the gap that had existed between both you and Geto, licking your lips. “The village?”

He nods.

“They did that to them?”

Once again, a nod.

“They would’ve deserved it.”

Geto blinks at that, shocked you’d agree with him. “...what?”

“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, because… you’re not,” you confess with a shuddering breath. The worlds feel wrong even if you believe them. There was a time that the simple thought of death upon anyone, even the worst of scum, would’ve made you feel ill. But now, it didn’t always feel so wrong — at least not in thought. Not in the deepest, darkest parts of your mind.

“But you didn’t,” you add, closing the gap completely between the both of you. You take a leap, ignoring your uncertainty and fear and everything in between and take his hand in your own, squeezing. “That’s what’s important.”

“But I wanted to.”

You meet his eyes and finally see something in it — a glimpse of hope, maybe. There’s something other then empty in those eyes, even for just a second, and you grab onto it, tightly, knuckles white as hope floods you because that was all you needed. 

Geto wasn’t gone.

“I’ve wanted to,” you confess, and it isn’t hard to know who and what you mean. “But I didn’t either. Do you think I’m a bad person?”

And his answer is instant; “no.”

“You aren’t either.”

His gaze lowers, and you think that’s all that can be said. At least now. Right now, those two little girls are important. Shoko’ll need to see them and when you get back to the school, Gojo will be there and he’ll help. You’re sure of it.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his own. “Okay, Suguru?”

-

Gojo almost looks mad.

But one look at you, and his features soften, tense shoulders fading and he’s forced to remind himself of something maybe he just doesn’t quite understand. 

He’s never been good with words, at least not when it came to comforting. Not when it came to things like this.

So he doesn’t say anything.

After Shoko had checked the girls, and assured bith you and Geto that despite bruising, they were okay. They’d need water and food, but most importantly, sleep. 

You tuck them into your bed.

Geto is silent the entire time. He doesn’t say anything, just stands behind you, his presence is always there. There’s moments you catch, just faintly, where one of the girls will look at him and he’ll smile with a softness you’ve only ever seen directed at you or Gojo.

It fills you with a warmth, and that glimmer of hope you don’t want to lose.

The second he’s sure they’re okay and fast asleep, he slips out of your dorm and heads straight to his. A moment passes before you follow him, and when you finally reach him, he’s in his bed, back turned with the covers pulled up, as if hiding himself from everyone.

You stand there, watching, for ten minutes before Gojo arrives.

It takes him only one minute, after your look and after his acceptance to step forward, slipping into Getos much too small bed to carry two six feet tall men. But it doesn’t stop Gojo. He pulls the covers, slips underneath and presses his face into Getos back. It’s oddly soft for Gojo, caring in a way that words aren’t needed and comforting in a way only possible for him.

You feel distant from them in that moment.

You didn’t know how to help. What to say, what to do. You did what you thought was right, but it still hadn’t felt enough. Sure, you’d gotten Geto home, but he’d still been distant, cold and that look in his eyes still remained strikingly blank and gone.

Yet, you watch as the simple touch of Gojo relaxes Geto’s shoulders and he seems to ease, as if some, if not all, of the anxiety just washes away.

It hurts while comforts you.

You turn to leave, even if it’s your bed; maybe Shokos still up and—

“Y/N.”

Your body freezes, head slowly turning at the sound of Geto’s voice. He’s not spoken one word to you since you’d found him. 

He’s looking at you, meeting your eyes directly and one of his arms is stretched out towards you, as if inviting you.

Lips parting, you hesitate.

“Please.”

That’s all it takes. Your feet are moving before your mind can process, rushing towards the bed with an unfamiliar urgency. You’re desperate for acceptance. Desperate to help and comfort and be there for Geto — because that’s all you want. All you ask for. You just want to help.

He’s grabbing onto your arm the second he can, tugging you to the other side of him, back pressing against the wall your bed is pushed up against and your chest pressed against Geto’s own as he wraps his arms around your waist. You lay there for a moment, before Geto’s pulling you closer, a hand pressing to the back of your head so you’re leaning into the crook of his neck.

Everything washes away then, the warmth of Geto soothing you.

And the words he utters next could make you cry;

“Thank you.”

His words echo in the silence, and then, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting Gojo’s. His gaze is already on your own, soft, warm and there’s a smile on his face.

Everything’s okay then, you realize.

Geto’s home and so is Gojo, and you did help.

You did.

[darlingletters]

hard to believe lh44

lewis hamilton x angolan!reader (actress)

in which no one believes that lewis hamilton is dating y/n y/l/n after he hard launches their relationship.

warnings: fluff, relationships, kissing, dancing close together, some spelling mistakes, my spelling in portuguese is horrendous so let me know if there’s any mistakes (I didn’t use google translate cause it’s the brazilian version), lemme know if I missed anything else.

an: I put my favourite love song in this, I didn’t even mean to but I think it matches perfectly with the vibe of the plot. hope my angolan girlies enjoy and if there’s anything I need to change, let me know 🤍

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lewishamilton

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lewishamilton ❤️ girlfriend

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user IS THAT Y/N Y/L/N

user liessss. ain’t no way you bagged y/n

user mhm sure lewis, and my boyfriend is henry cavill

user we know you been single a while but this is a bit much

user it’s ok to be single bestie, no one judging

user she didn’t even like the post

user I also wish y/n was my girl

georgerussell63 👍🏼 yeah lewis!

⤷ user damn even george don’t believe it

carlossainz55 never seen her at a race….

⤷ user 💀 mate I think you’re supposed to aid in people believing lewis not doubting him

user lewis 😭😭 you could of least picked someone people would believe you’re dating

user SHE AINT EVEN COMMENTING

user this is kinda sad lol

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“WHY DOES NO ONE BELIEVE YOU?” she asks confused as she looks over the comments on lewis’ recent post. she hadn’t seen it until now and only now had the chance to like it.

“I wouldn’t believe me either love, you are way to beautiful.” he says casually as he settles down next to her, placing his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“that’s stupid.” she says softly, her accent coming out slightly when saying the word ‘stupid’, making lewis smile at her lovingly. “I’ll make a post.” she states firmly, already going to make a post on instagram.

“not right now.” he says calmly, softly laughing as he takes her phone out her hands and sets it down on the coffee table. “right now we are having date night and we aren’t going let anything distract us, so do it in the morning.” he tells her with a smile as he grabs the remote and popcorn and settles it on his lap as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“fine, but in the morning, I am making a post because people thinking you couldn’t have a chance dating me is ridiculous.” she says, her tone still a little irritated from reading the comments.

he chuckles slightly as he lifts her chin to look up at him and kisses her softly, “thank you for being so protective love, but I don’t need it.” he leans his forehead against hers.

“doesn’t matter, I’ll do it anyway.” her frown changing to a smile at the tenderness of the moment. “I love you.” she whispers to him, almost like she hasn’t told hundreds of times.

“I love you too gorgeous.” he whispers back.

“does that mean you’ll finally let me teach you to dance kizomba?” she says hopeful, looking at him with pleading eyes.

he throws his head back in laughter, “you don’t give do you?” he says smiling as he looks back down at her. “fine, I give up, I’ll let you teach me.” he agrees, her smile only growing wider as she stands up quickly and she runs to get her speaker making him groan. “baby, not now.” he says, letting his head fall back on the coach.

“yes now, because then you’ll back out of it. now up you get.” she says setting the speaker up and looking though her song collection on spotify as she picks a song. “we’ll start off easy, a nice slow kizomba.” she smiles as the song ‘loucos’ by matias damásio and héber marques starts playing.

she slowly teaches him the steps. she leads the dance and makes sure he has his hands and feet in the right position.

after a few minutes of trying again and again, he manages to get the steps right and they are moving around the living room to the song as they look at each other without speaking.

he spins her around making her giggle softly which places a wide grin on his face as they go back to the close proximity they were once in and continue moving to the beat of the music.

“you’re getting good.” she whispered to him and she places her forehead against his.

“got a good teacher.” he smiles.

“eu estou tão apaixonada por te, eu acho que tu nem entendes.” she whispers to him in portuguese, making his grin grow wider as he looks at her. (I am so in love with you, I don’t think you understand.)

he hums softly, “I am not exactly sure what you said, but I am pretty sure my response is, I love you too.” he whispers back as he kisses her cheek making her blush.

“és o amor da minha vida.” she tells him with complete certainty. (you are the love of my life.)

“ah, now that I do know and my love, you are also the love of my life. more then you can imagine.” he speaks with the same tone she did whilst looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars.

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yourusername

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yourusername sir lewis carl davidson hamilton is my boyfriend and I, y/n y/m/n y/l/n, am his girlfriend.

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user NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

user 😭😭 I didn’t actually think they were dating

user damn.

user lucky

user this is ridiculous

carlossainz55 hi 👋🏼

⤷ yourusername hey 👋🏼

⤷ landonorris OMG SHE SAID HEY TO YOU

⤷ carlossainz55 I KNOWWW

lewishamilton damn your gorgeous

⤷ yourusername you too 🤭

user ok wait, they actually cuteee

user 😭 ok my favourite wag is now y/n

user the way no one believed him

user THE ROSES

user have you taught him kizomba??

⤷ yourusername LAST NIGHT it took me so long to convince him omd, i thought he’d never do it

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lewishamilton made a story

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[daycourtofficial]

Training Day

Summary: you ask Azriel to help you demonstrate some moves for training and it very quickly changes things

Author’s note: yeah this one just took on a life of it’s own I guess? Anyway, it’s lots of fun

“Can I use you tomorrow during the demonstration?”

Azriel looks up from his paperwork. The two of you were working in the library, a place you find yourselves most nights. You both enjoy working simultaneously - whether you both have paperwork, research, or personal reading. Most nights were spent on a secluded floor of the library. You two are down here so frequently, Clotho has stopped asking you to return the furniture the way it was, just allowing you two to use this space as your own sanctuary.

“I need a body to use when I’m showing the girls how to defend against an opponent,” you elaborate, and Azriel can’t help but notice a faint blush across your cheeks.

Azriel chuckles, but nods. He can’t say no to helping the priestesses, and he certainly can’t say no to you.

You two return to your previous attentions - you to your book, and him to his paperwork, which he finds much less interesting than you.

It started by the two of you using a table and chairs to work, but you had complained about reading for so long in the chair, that you rearranged the furniture so a table was pulled up to the couch you two are sitting on.

These nights started with you two across the table from each other, and tonight Azriel feels your toes pressing against his thigh, trying to form an entrance underneath his leg. You two now sit on the same couch, more often than not touching in some small capacity. The most recent nights start with you toeing your feet against his thigh, until he eventually grabs legs, sliding you down the couch, and placing your legs across his lap, draping his arms over them. When he’s feeling extra bold, or extra sleepy, he finds himself drawing patterns on your calves with his hands.

-

“Goooood morning!” You chirp to the priestesses, Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel. Azriel left the morning part of training early to bring you up for your demonstration and to talk to the preistesses and Nesta.

They all looked tired and out of breath, no doubt due to Cassian’s training.

“You can all sit for my demonstration. That way I become your favorite teacher.” You smile, eliciting a huff from Cassian.

“First, I want to say that while Cassian and Azriel are great teachers, there is one aspect to training that they cannot grasp. They do not understand what it’s like to be smaller than most of your enemies, to be at least 50 pounds lighter than most of your opponents.” You glance around, and the priestesses seem to be receptive, so you continue.

“Which is why I’m here. Cassian can spend 100 years teaching you proper balance, proper techniques, proper stances. But those things mean nothing if you cannot contextualize what you need to take down an opponent.”

“So today, we’ll be doing a little walkthrough of a fight. My opponent will be Azriel. The goal for today is for us to walk through, step by step, of a fight, and win. So, let’s start by thinking: what are some things that I need to think about when I’m facing Azriel. We don’t know anything about him, we don’t know who he is. We know what we can see, sans shadows. Most opponents won’t have control over shadows, so I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit the demonstration out.”

With that, his shadows retreat, looking as if they too were looking to sit and watch the demonstration. Azriel doesn’t think about the fact that he didn’t tell them to leave, that they listened to you, not even seeking his approval for the command.

“So, what do I notice about my opponent?”

Gwyn speaks up, “he’s much taller than you.”

Another priestess speaks up, “he’s unarmed.”

“He has wings.” “He’s wearing protective leathers.”

You interrupt them. “All good observations. He’s bigger than I am, unarmed, but protected. These are all important notes when facing an opponent. So, what should I do first?”

Someone immediately yells, “kick him!” You’re pretty sure it was Cassian, but you let it slide. “Where am I aiming my kick?” You ask to the crowd. “His head!” You hear Nesta call back.

“Do we think that is the best course of action?” They all nod, you’re unsure if it’s just because they want to watch you kick their teacher, but you swing your leg out, aiming for his head, holding it right next to him when you ask, “why would this not be the best tactic for me?”

There’s a pause, then Emerie speaks up, “your foot won’t make contact with his head.”

While still holding your leg in the air, mere centimeters from his face, you pull a small chocolate from your pocket and throw it to Emerie. “Correct! I can’t make perfect contact, is there any other problem?”

Gwyn yells out, “you’re vulnerable to be pushed!” You throw another chocolate. “Excellent! Yes, since all my weight is on one leg, he could easily” you prompt, alerting Azriel to his next move. He simply pushes you a little, making you lose balance, “make me lose my footing.”

You stand back up and brush the dirt off.

“If I’m going to execute a move that leaves me vulnerable, I need to be very sure that I can execute it. My legs are not long enough to do so. And our opponents will not stoop down so I can attack them.”

Azriel crouches just a smidge, where if your leg were still in the air you’d be able to connect it to his face.

“When the odds are against you in a fight, you need to even the playing field. Do anything you can to subdue your enemy. A tactic I use frequently is messing with their senses. May I?” You ask Azriel. He nods, curious where this is going.

“My height might be considered a disadvantage, but it allows me to move faster and with more ease than larger opponents like Cassian.”

He rolls his eyes, ready to retort back, but you’ve started talking again. “Showing this in slow mo won’t give you a great idea, and it’s a bit more difficult to do, but here’s what I do. I use my opponents height to their disadvantage.

You plant your right foot on his left thigh. “What do small creatures do? They climb. So I plant one foot on a thigh, and use momentum to swing my other leg onto their shoulder.” As you say this, you swing your left leg over his right shoulder, him holding your right leg planted on his leg so you can move.

“from here, I have one leg secured to a shoulder, so I use that planting to bring up my other leg,” doing as you say, bringing your right leg onto his other shoulder, your legs holding onto his shoulders.

Azriel can’t breathe with you so close to him like this. Do you have any idea the effect this is having on him? How close you are to his face, to his mouth? He’s dreamed of having you like this, pressing you into a wall while he devours you like it’s his last meal.

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, reminding him of where he is. “From here, I bring both of my fists out wide, gaining as much speed as I can before coming down on my opponent’s ears. This impact will leave their ears ringing, and could disrupt their balance if done hard enough.” You mime the motion, but only lightly hit his ears.

“Then I grab their face,” you say, holding the right side of his jaw, “and I smash my palm as hard as I can into their nose.”

Azriel knew you weren’t going to, but he could think of no better way to go than at your hands while your legs are wrapped around his neck.

You start to uncoil yourself from him, and it takes all of his self control to help you get your feet back on the ground. You start explaining why jabbing a palm through a nose is a good idea. The priestesses didn’t seem to think anything of you being on top of him like that, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cassian’s shit eating grin. He glances in his brother’s direction, wanting him to knock it off before he scares off their trainees, but Cassian mouths the words “loverboy” to him, while kissing the air, before pretending he was paying attention to you the whole time.

-

Your demonstration goes on for a bit longer, you and Azriel having a pseudofight that the priestesses eventually walk you through how to win. You have him pinned to the ground, and their cheers are so loud you’d think you had slain a dragon instead of taking him down.

You’re positively glowing at their praise, and the fact that this method of teaching actually worked. Before he could grow too accustomed to your weight on his chest, you get off of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for letting me beat you up today,” you giggle, as the priestesses start heading back toward the library, leaving you and Azriel behind.

He laughs, thinking about his next words, “how could anyone say no to letting you straddle their face and pinning them down?”

Your cheeks are on fire. The two of you were something, you just didn’t know what. On top of spending most days together, you two flirted constantly, once prompting Feyre to throw you in a cold fountain to cool you off.

But flirting was words, and these words were based in real actions you took. Sure it was to show the priestesses some defense moves, and maybe you had some ulterior motives, but you can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy seeing his face between your legs, even if you two were fully clothed in a self-defense seminar.

You were done with flirting that led nowhere, and before you can think about them the words are out of your mouth, “so if I asked you to do it again, with less witnesses and less clothing?”

You physically watch him shudder, at first you’re afraid you went too far, but then he leans down into your ear and whispers, “don’t make offers if you don’t want to follow through.”

You two have been dancing around whatever is between you two for too long, you think. The gentle nights spent in the library, the constant flirting. You spend more time with him than anyone. You’re terrified to move forward, but then you meet his eyes.

They’re full of lust, yes, but there’s an incredible warmth there. A softness, reserved just for you. He always looks at you with delicacy, as if you held his world and too harsh of a stare would break you.

You grab his neck, pulling him down to you as you kiss him. The first thing you feel is his wings wrapping around you, providing you privacy from the world, even though you’re alone in the training area.

Your hands clutch at his face, and your lips cover his, moving in tandem, as if your lips have found the place they belong.

His hands grab your ass, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You’re so caught up in the kiss and the heat of it that you don’t even realize he winnowed you two into his room.

You hardly take note of the room, just taking in his smell, his taste, his warmth. You’re not sure how long you guys are kissing, thinking of nothing but the way his hands feel holding you, amazed you two are still wearing any clothes, let alone being fully dressed, when you hear a cough.

You two break away very reluctantly, to see a very smug Cassian standing ten feet away.

“You,” he points directly to you, “owe me $50. Pay up.”

“Now?” You ask incredulously, your hair moving as you whip your head to glare at the intruder.

“Yes, now. It’s my money, and I earned it fair and square.”

Azriel’s confusion shown all over his face, you covered your face in your hands while Cassian says, “I bet her $50 that if she had you help with her demonstration and got on your shoulders like that, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.”

“I- um - I didn’t know how to make the first move,” you say meekly, “and he seemed so sure of this working.”

You were so concerned he’d be mad that you manipulated this situation, but Azriel, while still holding you, tells Cassian, “I’ll give you $100 if you leave and don’t let anyone disturb us for a week.”

Cassian, always ready to make a quick buck, quickly agrees and scuttles out of the room, closing the door on his way.

“How do you go from not knowing how to make the first move to doing that?” Azriel asks, amusement shining on his face.

“Well, I thought my shameless flirting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I had to take more drastic measures.”

He roars in laughter, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest. “You’ve always had my attention,” he says, looking at you the way a predator would, “but now you have my undivided attention. And I just paid a hefty fee to get us some time away from everyone.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you giggle, holding onto him tighter, “oh no, a whole week with no distractions, whatever shall we do?” You ask, trying to sound distressed, but your giggles give you away.

“I think I stopped paying attention during your presentation, do you want to remind me again about depriving your opponent of their senses with your legs?”

You throw your head back in laughter, and he tilts your head down to capture your laugh in his kiss.

[od4saku]

Geto Suguru falls in love for the first time at 15.

He doesn’t know how he’s never seen you before— by the first time he sees you, he’s already halfway through his first year at Tokyo’s Prefectural Jujutsu high school. You’re a second year, and so, so cool. All loud laughter and confidence, sharp smiles and intelligence— he can’t help but admire you.

He likes to think that his status as a special grade sorcerer can separate him from being a cringey teenaged boy with a disastrous crush. In hindsight, it may have just made it worse. His attempts to impress you, constant and perpetual, never went quite right. Ever the gentleman, Geto would do all the chivalrous things. He would open doors for you, and then get hit in the face by them. He’d pull out your chair, and then trip over the legs. He tried, though, he really did. And you seemed to pick up on that.

Maybe you were simply entertaining his awkward attempts at being smooth. Maybe you were just playing along. But sometimes when he made a joke, you would laugh and touch his arm. And other times when he messed something up or did something stupid, you would call him ‘so cute’ which caused his friends to tease him and made him go red in the face. He had always thought of himself as smooth, calm, collected. You proved that everything could change.

At was almost the end of the school year when Gojo’d managed to rule Geto up enough to urge him to speak on his feelings. It’s February. A layer of frost encases the world, as if it was trying to preserve it, keep it that way forever. But the sun was suspended in the sky, chipping away at the icy covering. Change is coming, says the sky. Geto agrees. He will welcome it, even. It must be a good omen, he presumes, a sign of fortune to come.

You are knelt down by a small pond. With a stick in hand, he observes you for a moment as you appear to poke at the thinning sheet of ice covering the body of water.

“What are you doing?” He can see, he knows, but he asks anyways. You turn over your shoulder and give him a bright, bright smile. He feels himself melting inside.

“I was waiting for Mei Mei, for our assignment in Shibuya. But she’s going to be late, I think.” You frown a little, and he joins you on the ground in front of the little pond. The both of you watch as chunks of ice slowly decay into nothingness as the sunlight licks the surface. Greedy like a child with ice cream. Always taking more. (Change is coming.)

“So, this isn’t a bad time?”

You look at him again, shifting your body to face him rather than the pond. Soft beams of sunlight kiss your cheek, and he takes in every detail. How your eyes glow warm, bright, so bright, even though you have to squint a little. How your hair turns to fire. How you are looking at him and only him. “No. Is there something you need to say to me, Geto?”

He’s so confident. He will tell you that yes, he wants to ask you to lunch at a café he found in the city. He wants to pay for your food, and pull out a chair for you without falling over. He wants to take you on a date. He wants to tell you about how he likes you, why he likes you, and argue a thesis as to why you would be good together. So he opens his mouth.

None of that comes out.

“No. I was just curious,” he lies through his teeth, gesturing to the pond. Oh, he’s fucked this. Gojo and Shoko were most definitely going to get on his ass about this later. He grimaces a grin as you smile.

“Ah, don’t mind me! I was just killing time, you know?”

He’s 15, almost 16. He’s a special grade jujutsu sorcerer. He is one of the strongest. You made him so, so weak. He forgets himself, sometimes. That he is still a boy despite it all.

He hums conversationally, though he’s feeling particularly embarrassed internally. “So cold out. Do you think we’ll get snow?”

At least Geto is good with his words, good enough to cover up his lull, his fumble. At least you don’t notice anything wrong as you respond with a glance skyward, “hm. I doubt it. I wish, though.”

“Really? Don’t you want nicer weather?”

You tilt your head a little and he feels dizzy, and lightheaded. He isn’t paying much attention to what you’re saying even though he should be. Geto is more focused on the slope of your nose, the angle of your cheeks, the curve of your hand as it thrums against your thigh. “In my opinion, snow is the best kind of weather. I like how everything fits together. And I like when it melts. How it smells and all.”

He laughs. “You’re so weird.”

You punch his shoulder lightly. “Plus, snow reminds me of when I was younger. Snowball fights, shopping for scarves and coats and gloves, all that. So I guess it’s personal.”

He softens. You give him another smile but it’s melancholy this time. A nostalgia. He wants to engrave it into his memory. Keep you forever. “Do you wish you could go back ever?”

You would be lying if you said no, so you say yes instead. “But there’s no point in thinking about that, yeah? We can do all that now. Next winter. Let’s build an igloo or something, Geto.”

The smile is on his face before he knows it and he’s pried away from the emotional intimacy as soon as it’s shown itself. You are bright again and he is a moth. Enamoured by you, always. “Let’s.”

He bids you farewell a moment or so later when Mei Mei’s silhouette appears in the distance. He would be more upset, if he thought about his lack of confession. But as always, conversing with you is fulfillment enough. He can always ask when you get home, he thinks. He can ask, and you can say yes. And you can plan out the igloo you’re going to build, and he can map out the future house you’re going to share.

Except, the ice melts in the pond. And the frost turns to water permeating the soil. And you never come home.

This is Geto Suguru’s first taste of death. The impermanence of it all. The way that in less than a day, someone could be gone.

It was an oversight on the part of the initial reports. A special grade curse instead of two 1st grades. He knows because he is the one called in for backup, and he is the one who finds your body. You are cold like the snow by the time it is all over. Colder, even. And you’re still so pretty it hurts.

He’s never seen the body of a loved one before. He is so strangely detached and yet, at the same time, so full of anguish. Who could’ve stopped this? Could he have? What if you were alive? What would you say? Did it hurt? Were you going to be okay, wherever you were now? He thinks back to the conversation about the snow. He thinks back to the tripping over chairs, the way you always made space for anyone in any room. The way you loved so big in such little ways. The way it almost could’ve worked.

You taught Geto that change is inevitable. That death is always a part of life, especially for innocents, especially for those who deserve it the least. This is his beginning of the end. The way it will all begin to fall apart. Because he never got to know your favorite color. He never got to know how you like your coffee, or where you liked to shop. The only thing he knew is that you liked the cold. So next time it snowed, he would stay inside and lament the fact that if the world was a little different, and a lot kinder, you would be there with him.

You’d have said yes to his date, he believes. If you’d gotten the chance.

(Ice melts. The sun is hot, too hot. Change is coming.)

(Maybe it's already here.)

"Grief was a spare room where we put things." -Aimee Seu, Velvet Hounds

[clockwayswrites]

I totally didn't write this with a fever.

wc: 815, Masterpost, Shopping Montage

“What do you think, parrots and way too many leaves or palm trees and waves?” Danny said, holding the two horrifically patterned Hawaiian shirts up in front of him.

They were standing in one of Crime Alley’s better thrift stores. While Danny had agreed to let Jason buy him some clothing, he had insisted it be at thrift stores. He wasn’t ‘going to let Jason spend that much money on clothing’, he claimed.

Jason figured that meant that Danny hadn’t clocked who he was yet.

Danny waggled the offensive shirts again.

“Tuesday…”

“Ah, I see, clearly it is option number three then,” Danny said somberly before dramatically pulling out a third shirt behind the other two and, “unicorns, rainbows, and hibiscus!”

It was eye searingly bright— like a pack of highlighters had thrown up on it— and clearly whoever had designed it had never seen an ungulate, rainbow, or hibiscus flower in their lives.

“No. No, you are not getting that because I am buying it for my fashion disaster of a brother. He’ll love it.”

“Really?” Danny asked, nose wrinkling adorably as he looked down at the shirt in his hand.

“Trust me, if you knew him, you wouldn’t be doubting it.” Besides, it stopped Danny from getting it even as a joke.

“Huh. Sounds like some brother.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jason said, taking the unicorn shirt and hanging the other two up. “Why don’t we start with pants. Three pairs at least.”

Danny scrambled after Jason. “Three pairs? That means I’d have four if the blood comes out.”

“It will come out.”

“Then that’s four! And that’s way too many.”

“One pair for every two days and a back up pair if you don’t get laundry done or lose another pair to a rogue attack,” Jason explained, finding the jean section. “What size are you and what type do you like. Baggy, boot cut, skinny?”

Danny stared down at the tables of jeans, looking more than a little lost. “Um, blue? Blue is good?”

“Disaster, Tuesday,” Jason said. He sized Danny up before picking out a half dozen jeans and shoving them at the other. “Try these on.”

“Jason, I really don’t—”

“Tuesday, I’m getting you three pairs of jeans. You might as well at least make sure they’re comfortable. Go try on the pants. If these don’t work, we’ve got others to try.”

“I, um, okay,” Danny said with a little nod and disappeared into the fitting booth.

As Jason grabbed another few pairs of pants, he had to wonder when the last time that Danny actually went shopping was from how he was reacting. Having to try on the jeans to make sure they fit was pretty basic. Hoping to make sure Danny really had enough clothing, Jason grabbed a few shirts to add to the pile. Mostly he stuck with basics, but he tossed in a few shirts that seemed nerdy in a way that an engineer might like. He pushed the pile under the edge of the fitting room curtain with his foot.

“What— I don’t—”

“Just be good and try on the shirts,” Jason ordered, as gently as he could, then he leaned against the wall opposite of the little line of changing booths to wait.

The sound of the curtain pulling open had Jason looking up from his phone. Danny stood just inside the booth, tugging down at the hem of the dark red henley where it set over the navy skinny cut jeans.

Danny shifted on socked feet. (Jason made note of the holes in the toes.) “I don’t know if…”

“Gives me a spin, Tuesday,” Jason said, tucking his phone in his pocket. “You act like you’ve never gone clothes shopping before.”

“Been a good few years,” Danny drawled, but spun as he was told. The pants did surprising favors for Danny’s ass for being thrift store pants.

“Never had that sudden growth spurt?” Jason teased.

Danny huffed. “I’m a short king.”

“Well, your Majesty, put both those in the yes pile and go try on some more.” Jason shooed Danny back into the booth with a wave. “When you’re done, we’ll grab you a pack of socks and boxers from the Dollar Tree next door— no arguing— and then I’ll show you the best diner in Crime Alley.”

“Am I going to have to let you pay there too?”

“Yep, so be a good figure head of a dated governmental system and hush.”

“Or it will be the guillotine for me?” The question was muffled as Danny changed.

“You’re too pretty to lose your head,” Jason said. “It would be the dungeons with you.”

Danny cleared his throat after a pause. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said with a chuckle and a determination to ignore that mental picture. “Now come on, show me the next outfit.”

-----

AN: And Dick wore that unicorn shirt far, far too often.

Hopefully it's coherent despite me being sick. The start of this came to me as I was trying to sleep with a 102ish fever so who am I to deny it?

Stay delightful (and hydrated) darlings!

I no longer tag for various reasons, but you can subscribe to be notified at the masterpost. (Queued this post so I'll update the masterpost when I wake)

[horangare]

some love

pairing : chan x reader

content : angst, smut (mdni), fluff/comfort

in which : you’re worried that your boyfriend isn’t really in love with you. he is determined to prove you wrong.

warnings : you feel unloveable but chan loves you sm, oral (f receiving), fingering, declarations of love, mentions of yeonjun (txt), you’re mentioned to be kind of inexperienced

wc : 2.1K words

It’s so late. Too late. You’re not even sure why you’re even bothering to stay up waiting for him.

But it’s not his fault, that’s what some desperate part of you is saying. He’s busy. He’s trying.

You wished you weren’t so selfish. You wished that you could believe yourself when you said and thought those things. You wished that your mind wasn’t your own worst enemy.

With a heavy heart, you retreated to the bedroom—your bedroom. It had been two and a half months now and Chan didn’t even sleep in the same bed with you. Was that normal for new couples? Or was it just more proof of this one sided infatuation you were labeling as your relationship with him?

Every day the distance between you only seemed to grow, and every night you would hold yourself in your own arms and pretend you didn’t care.

Chan was your first real boyfriend ever since your short time in high school with Choi Yeonjun. He was nice and there was no doubt he liked you back, you just couldn’t comprehend the fact that someone like him would want to be with someone like you. There was no way Yeonjun could ever really love you, just like there was no way Chan could.

The front door opened, quietly, Chan had a habit of trying to keep quiet when he came home late to avoid waking you. Most of the time, you were still wide awake, having grown tired of waiting for him. Not that he checked to ever actually see if you were actually asleep in there. Maybe it was better that he didn’t, you’d rather he not see you like that.

You wonder what possessed him to check tonight.

“Oh, you’re still awake?”

He spoke gently, quietly, and you could see the surprise etched into his features. How could he be surprised when he never bothered to see for himself?

You nodded, though your eyes were looking in a different direction. “Yeah. I’ve been up for a little while.”

“Were you waiting for me again?”

Chan saw through you like glass. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and it didn’t feel fair. You wanted to know how he felt with just a look, or a word, or a touch. It wasn’t fair.

“No, I was—”

“You don’t have to lie.” He shrugged, walking closer to the bed so he could be closer to you. “I told you that you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t.” Your tone was nothing short of defensive, and there was no doubt that he picked up on it. Which of your quirks or tells didn’t he pick up on?

He’s so stubborn. To think it’s that same stubbornness that brought you together in the first place is almost enough to make you laugh.

“So what were you doing, then?”

“Nothing, just…” Just what? Doubting every aspect of your relationship? Questioning yourself about whether he actually loved you or not? Digging yourself deeper into your own hole of self-pity?

“I was just thinking.”

Chan nodded slowly, allowing your words to sink in. There was an uncomfortable silence that enveloped the room for several minutes as neither of you spoke to each other. It’s not like it was anything you weren’t used to.

“Thinking about what?”

You’re not sure why that specific question struck a nerve, but it did. “Can we do this interrogation some other time, Chan? I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“So when will we talk about it?” He mumbled. “I hardly ever see you. We don’t even sleep in the same room. If we don’t talk now, when will we?”

“I don’t know, Chan!” You finally turned your head in his direction. “Does it matter? Nothing is going to change if we talk. We’ll still sleep in different beds not seeing each other and pretending like this relationship is real. What is talking going to do?”

He hears the pain in your voice before he sees it on your face. How it cracks and shakes just a little, all your suffering starting to bubble to the surface. He wishes you would’ve told him something sooner, because now it seems you’re only so many words away from your breaking point.

You move away when he comes closer, and the distance between you seems wider than ever. For once you wish he would back down, let go of his stubbornness, and not be so forgiving.

“Communication is important for relationships, [Y/n].” He’s even closer now, so close that you can’t move away even if you tried. “I just want to understand you better.”

Chan waits for you to speak. He could wait forever if that’s what it takes. However long it would take to get you to tell him something, anything, he would wait.

“I just want you to…to love me, Chan.” The second half of your sentence was whispered, too shameful to be spoken in a voice any louder than that. Chan’s face was laced with confusion.

“You think that I don’t love you, [Y/n]?”

It felt like a trick question. No matter what answer you gave, the answer would do nothing to make you feel any better about the situation. Regret was working its way into your mind, and you cursed yourself for even saying anything in the first place.

“Do you not?” You turned away again. “Love me, I mean?” You doubted he needed the extra clarification, but the last thing you wanted now was an answer that wasn’t direct.

“I have no reason to feel otherwise.” He brought his hands to your face, cupping them and slowly turning your head until you were facing him again.

Yes he does, you thought. There were plenty of reasons for him to not feel any affection for you. Maybe he just wanted to spare your feelings. You weren’t sure why. You chose not to answer him.

His next words were sudden, desperate. “I can prove it. If…that’s what you want.”

You try to look away again, but now you can’t. He won’t let you. You don’t know why you felt so nervous at his proposal. You did want him to prove it, you wanted it more than you’ve wanted anything. Perhaps it was the unknown possibilities hidden beneath such a simple string of words.

He was desperate. So were you.

“Okay,” you decided to say. “prove it.”

Chan has only kissed you once before—on the cheek, and only for a moment. This kiss felt similar to that. Sweet, gentle, like he was testing the waters. The last thing he wanted to do now was scare you off, not when he had finally made so much progress. You clench your hands into fists at your sides, not quite sure what to do or where to put them. “Are you okay?” He mumbled against your lips.

“I—I don’t know.” You pulled away from him and immediately missed the feeling of his lips against yours. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Chan hummed in understanding, gently caressing your face in an attempt to soothe you. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

He was being honest. You wanted to believe that he was telling you the truth, and you wanted to believe him. He was going to take care of you, and he was going to prove that he loved you.

“You can relax, it’s just me,” he whispered against your skin. You mumbled a weak apology and tried to get yourself to loosen up while your boyfriend kissed a path down your body; from your lips to your jaw to your neck, getting lower and lower…

You felt warm, and it only made you tense up again. “Chan…”

“I know, it’s okay.”

His thumbs traced circles on your inner thighs, and you felt a little bit dizzy. The act was so soothing, so intimate.

So loving.

You feel too embarrassed to keep watching him when he pushes apart your thighs. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been to you in a long time. You can’t believe it’s taken this long just to have him be with you like this.

“Is it okay if I take these off?” He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Other than a shirt that is a size too big for you, the cloth material sticking to the area between your legs is the only other piece of clothing you have on. You figure it was a smart decision.

“Yeah.”

He treats you so carefully, sliding the fabric down your legs and puts it aside. You’ve always expected that he’d be the type to ravage you, to fuck you senseless and leave you crying and begging him for more.

It’s not like that at all. Not even close. Instead; your sweet boyfriend is lying between your legs and looking at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. This version of him seems more fitting. You like it.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so perfect.”

You were going to argue against it. There was no such thing as the perfect person, and even if there was it wouldn’t be you. Chan thought otherwise. To him, you were perfection personified, and he wanted you to realize it for yourself. Whatever you were going to say came out as a whine instead of proper words.

Your inner thighs are soon littered with hickeys, there’s hardly any skin left untouched by his lips. The anticipation is eating you alive—having him only inches away from where you need him the most and yet he’s choosing to keep you in suspense like this. When you start to squirm, Chan shakes his head and pinches your thigh. It’s not hard enough to hurt too badly, it’s just enough to warn you to keep still, and you do.

Thankfully he doesn’t wait any longer. Whatever space was left between him and your dripping core is now gone when he starts to lick long, warm stripes up your slit.

“Oh, Chan, fuck…” Your breath is shaky, and so are your hands—which you’ve finally managed to tear away from your sides and give them a new home in Chan’s hair. He hummed, and the vibration traveled right through you in the most pleasurable way possible.

He ate you out as if he were dying and you were his cure. It’s almost like he’s the one who needed this and not the other way around. His thirst for you is unquenchable, and if you’d let him, he’d spend an eternity buried between your thighs. His nose bumps against your clit over and over again, and the stimulation is heightened when he circles one of his fingers at your hole before guiding it inside you.

You try to speak again but all that comes out is a loud whine of Chan’s name. He pumps his finger in and out of you before adding another and repeating the motions.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your skin. “Always will, okay? I. Love. You.” With every word he curls his fingers to reach that spot deep inside of you that he knows will have you falling apart in no time.

“I—shit—I love you too, Chan. M-More than anything.” Now your whole body is shaking and you can practically taste how close you are. Chan never lets up, not even for a moment. He seems to give up on being gentle and opts for something more effective so he can get you to cum—sucking on your clit and speeding up the pace of his fingers. When it finally happens, it’s with a cry of his name and a light, blissful feeling that makes you smile dazedly.

Chan’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices, you can see his face shine in the dim light from the lamp on your beside table. He’s about to kiss you, so eager to taste you again, that he almost forgets to whip his mouth. When he raises his head, he gasps.

“You’re crying,” he says softly. You shake your head at him, the faint traces of a smile still on your lips. You are crying, but they’re not sad tears. Not this time.

You hold his face in your hands, and it’s still a little sticky. “I’m happy.”

“You are?”

“Yeah…I am.” You nodded, and he did too. “Thank you, Chan. I love you.”

Chan kissed you again. A kiss like before. A loving kiss.

“I love you too.”

[luminoustarlight]

Had It Up To Here | Anakin Skywalker

After an argument, Anakin's patience with you has grown thin.

Very, very loosely inspired by the lyric "I've had it up to here" in the song Just A Girl by No Doubt

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 4.6k | read on ao3 warnings: SMUT [dom!anakin, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, cream pie], dirty talk, jealousy, flirting

i hope you enjoy my first ani smut. there's more to come (hehe) :)

If you’ve never received the cold shoulder from Anakin Skywalker, consider yourself lucky. 

It all started two days ago after he and Obi-Wan retrieved you from Nal Hutta. Your mission was successful so you weren’t quite sure why Anakin had looked so… displeased when he saw you. Of course, you didn’t expect him to greet you with open arms, given that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on the trip. But the scowl on his face was enough to make your very exposed skin prickle with goosebumps. And that’s when you realized— you didn’t have a chance to change into your everyday threads before you met Ani and Obi-Wan at the extraction point. You were still wearing a rather scantily clad ensemble, one that certainly would’ve had Anakin jumping out of his pants if you two were alone. 

“You did well,” Obi-Wan praised. “I can imagine you were quite alluring to the Hutts.” Obi-Wan’s tone was playful, knowing just how magnetic you can be. In contrast to Obi-Wan’s friendliness, a deep-set frown had made itself comfortable on Anakin’s face. He didn’t like what you were wearing and he definitely didn’t like Obi-Wan making light of it. Your secret boyfriend shrugged off his own robe and threw it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you, Anakin,” you said. Anakin replied with an unpleased grunt. Even after Obi-Wan settled himself in the cockpit and you two were alone, he didn’t hug you or kiss you or even act like he was happy to see you. “What, you don’t like my outfit, Ani?” 

“No.” His tone was clipped. 

“Really?” you smirked, opening his robe, revealing your bare torso and accentuated breasts. “I really thought you would have.” 

“That’s enough,” Anakin said, shutting down your flirtatious smile. “We’ll discuss this later.” 

Then off he went to join Obi-Wan in the cockpit, not saying another word to you until you were in your private chambers. 

Hours. It seemed like you and Anakin were having a conversation about your outfit on Nal Hutta for hours. As a Republic spy, you have no issue with becoming the character the mission requires you to be. Most of the time you’re invisible. After all, that’s the point of being a spy, isn’t it? However, you were far from invisible when the job required you to weed your way through the Hutt Clan. It made Anakin’s blood boil to know that your beautiful body, which should only be reserved for him, was exposed to some of the slimiest scum in the galaxy. 

Of course, your bodily autonomy is your own. And Anakin knows this. But you are also his and because nobody actually knows that you’re his, he doesn’t particularly enjoy when anyone gets to admire you and not face repercussions. He has to consciously remind himself not to stare at you during meetings and briefings. He can’t tell you you’re beautiful, he can’t kiss you whenever he pleases and it drives him mad. Because of this, you two have become quite the experts at stealing kisses in empty hallways, locking pinkies in passing to silently say I love you. 

You had been looking forward to taking a nice bath to decompress. Maybe open a bottle of wine. And you wanted to do that with Anakin. It was abnormally quiet for him on the war front so he’d been given a couple days off. But Anakin just can’t seem to let go of your disagreement about what is appropriate for you to wear. Spoiler alert: you can wear whatever the stars you want and he just has to deal with it. Because you’re both too stubborn and petty for your own good, you’ve decided to dress up in a nice, form-fitting emerald dress with triangle cuts on the sides of your waist, meeting to a point over your belly button. 

Anakin is sitting in the lounge, flicking through the HoloTV. He’s hardly said a word to you since you ended your argument last night with, “You don’t control me, Anakin.”

While that might be true in almost every sense, there is a different persona Anakin often takes on when you’re intimate. And he would venture to say that he is in full control of you in the bedroom. 

When you emerge from your sleeping quarters, you swear you can hear his heart stop. He promptly turns off the TV and reaches you in five quick steps. You’re securing your earring, tilting your neck to show off the supple skin Anakin loves to nip and kiss so dearly. You’ve put on the perfume that makes your skin shimmer in the light, making you look like his very own angel. Anakin squares his hips against you, backing you into the wall. “Where are you going?” 

You look up at him through thick eyelashes. Your lips are coated in a clear gloss, all tantalizing and tempting, probably the one that tastes like pears. “Out,” you reply. You escape from Anakin’s blockade to head towards the door, but not before he grabs your forearm with his gloved hand. 

You know he’s dying to kiss you, to have you right there up against the wall. But Anakin doesn’t cave that easily. We’re back to that stubbornness you two share. “Without me?” Anakin grits. 

You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle. “If you’re not going to talk to me then I figured I’d go out and have a drink at Helios. I’m sure there are plenty of people willing to talk to me there.” You mean to flirt with. Harmless flirting, of course. You and Anakin only do it to rile the other up. You don’t do it often, what with the continuous war going on, the two of you don’t find yourselves socializing with civilians all that regularly. 

“Watch it,” he warns, his grip on you tightening. You look down to where his leather fingers are wrapped around your arm. It’s a strong hold. Just say the word and I’ll let go, Anakin conveys through softened eyes. 

“Watch me walking away from you and out of the door.” You snatch your arm away from Anakin. You take fast and confident steps so he knows you mean business and open the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.” 

Anakin stands in the foyer with his jaw and fists clenched. He lets you walk away, mainly because he knows he’s been acting like a prick. He knows you’re right. He knows you were doing your job and not purposefully drawing attention to yourself by what you were wearing. And so what if you were? You can wear whatever you want. Stars, most of the time Anakin loves seeing you dressed up or in next to nothing. 

And truthfully, Anakin loved what you were wearing when he picked you up from Nal Hutta. It was Obi-Wan’s comment that put him in a foul mood over it. Just two words, the same word repeated twice, actually. “My, my,” was all the older gentleman muttered. Anakin hated that his Master could make such a comment about you without anyone being suspicious of his intentions or feelings. If Anakin had made the same comment, with that same suggestive tone, he’d be in deep Bantha fodder. 

Anakin thinks about this next move. Do you truly want space? Or is this just a little foreplay? Afterall, he still hasn’t kissed you. Maker, what is wrong with him? All he ever wants to do is kiss you, taste you, wrap you up in his arms and never let go. Because you are his and only his. 

He’s made his decision. He’s going to Helios. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Helios is one of the nicer clubs downtown. It doesn’t usually attract the wrong crowd, making you feel safe whenever you go alone or meet with friends. It’s not like you can’t protect yourself should anything happen, though. It’s one of Anakin’s favorite things about you: your precise marksmanship and dexterity with a knife. Not to mention your mean uppercut. 

The crowd is booming, but not enough so that your laugh can’t be heard by Anakin when he walks into the club. His eyes immediately track you to the bar, elbows on the counter, laughing at something the Twi’lek on your right must’ve said. The routine pit of jealousy begins building in his stomach. It’s been a while since you two have played this game. He can’t remember if he loves it or hates it. He loves knowing that the men who want you can’t actually have you. He loves knowing that he’s the one who will be fucking you— or making love to you depending on the day— at the end of it all. That you are his and only his. But damn it, does he hate watching someone else make you laugh. Especially when he’s done so little of that since you got home. 

Anakin comes up behind you and places his left hand on your back, not so subtly pushing himself between you and the Twi’lek. “Pardon me,” he says. 

You straighten your back. You knew he’d come get you. His jawline looks impossibly sharp under the lavender light in the club. His hand is warm on your back, fingertips digging into the exposed flesh of your torso. “Hello, Anakin. I was having rather nice conversation with Vik before you interrupt us. Say hello to Vik, Anakin.” 

Anakin does no such thing and orders a shot of something strong instead. 

“Sorry, are you two…” Vik waves a finger between you and Anakin.

You reply in unison, although your answer is “no” and Anakin’s is “yes”. 

It is never “yes” because you never know who might be listening. Anakin must really be peeved. 

Vik’s flirty eyes turn frightful. “Listen, I don’t want any part in a lovers quarrel.” 

You place your hand over Vik’s. “We’re not lovers, Vik. Anakin is just a friend.” 

Anakin downs his shot. It burns going down, but no more than hearing you call him your friend. He’s too touch-starved to play this game any longer. His hold on you is possessive, but clearly not enough for you to get the message. 

“You might wanna tell him that,” Vik hooks his thumb at your boyfriend. 

“I insist, Vik,” your voice wavers only so much that Anakin would notice. You can’t keep up this act much longer. Not with one drink already in your system and Anakin’s hand searing into your skin. “He’s just here for a drink. I’d much rather continue our conversation. Anakin, would you mind leaving us?” 

“Yes, I mind,” Anakin replies sternly. 

“Excuse me?” you blink at him. His blue eyes are drowning in darkness and you hesitate to say your next thought. Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to say it anyway. “I kindly asked you to leave. I’d like to have another drink with Vik.” 

That’s it. He’s at the end of his fuse. Anakin turns to the Twi’lek, persuasion laced through his voice. “You want to go home. You’re not feeling well.” 

Vik promptly stands up from the stool. “I want to go home. I’m not feeling well.” 

“Anakin,” you say tentatively, knowing you’re in trouble. 

“I’ve had it up to here with you,” Anakin puts his hand above his head to show just how far you’ve tested his patience. “Let’s go.” 

You obey, making your way out of the club with Anakin’s hand still on your back. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until we get home,” he says into your ear. His hot breath makes you shudder. You nod and silently get into the speeder. 

Like the bubbles in a bottle of sparkling wine, excitement fizzes beneath your skin. You can’t wait for what Anakin has in store for you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As directed, you are silent until you enter your apartment. Which is really your shared apartment with Anakin when he’s not a the Temple. Little pieces of your Jedi knight litter the space that had once been your own. Trinkets that he’s collected from all over the galaxy, unfinished inventions that he tinkers with to destress. Not to mention his scent. It permeates every pillow and blanket that you own, making it that much easier to miss him when he’s gone. 

“Ani,” you begin gently, setting your bag on one of your dressers. 

“Ah-” he holds up his hand. “What did I say?” 

“You said you didn’t want to hear a word from me until we got home,” you answer immediately. “We’re home.” 

The corner of Anakin’s lip quirks up before he catches himself. You almost had him.“You think you’re clever? That mouth of yours gets you into trouble sometimes, doesn’t it?” 

You nod and gulp. Your thighs have become sticky with arousal given the fact that you chose not to wear anything beneath your dress. A fact that Anakin has yet to discover. He holds your chin in his gloved hand and angles your head upwards. “Good thing I have a better way of putting that mouth to use.” 

Anakin encourages you to your knees. The short hemline of your dress creeps up your thighs but not enough to reveal your exposed cunt. “No touching. Understand?” 

You nod again, sitting complacently on your heels as you watch Anakin remove his pants. Your lips are parted as you anticipate his length in your mouth. You claw at your thighs when you see the prettiest droplets of precum on the crown of his cock. It’s been too long, you think.

“I know it has, angel,” Anakin answers your thought. Damn him for getting in your head. No matter. He’d know you want him even without reading your thoughts.  You’re practically drooling for him. “Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me.” 

As soon as you drop your jaw, Anakin wastes no time putting his dick in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue makes your pussy pathetically clench around nothing. Even though it’s been a while since you two have been intimate, the feeling, the taste, it’s familiar. It’s comforting. Even when his spongey tip is hitting the back of your throat when he ruts his hips forward. This makes you gag and grab onto his thighs for stability. 

“Fuck,” the profanity slips from Anakin’s lips. He can’t deny how much he’s missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. The sinful image of it being too big, too thick, making you choke. He relishes the way you whimper around him, how it sends shocks of pleasure through him as you beg for him to fuck your mouth. You want to wrap your hand around the base of him, but Anakin was clear in his instructions. No touching. Instead, you squeeze his thighs, urging him to continue. You relax your throat, opening wide so he can use you how he pleases. 

The friction of his length brushing past your soft lips makes his stomach tighten. His strong quads are contracting beneath your hands as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth. His musk makes you dizzy. Your eyes are stinging and a lonesome tear falls down your cheek. “Finally decided to behave, hm?” he wipes your tear with his thumb. “Don’t think for a second that you’re forgiven for how you’ve been acting.” 

Anakin pulls his dick from your mouth, a messy string of saliva connecting the two of you before landing on your chin. Your chest is heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t even let you cum tonight. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

“Please, Ani,” you answer quietly. Your throat is raw and you still can’t seem to get a good breath in your lungs. “I want to cum.” 

Anakin shakes his head. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to cum, I asked if you deserved to cum. Because from where I’m standing I don’t think you do. You’ve been a brat ever since you got home. Insisting that you can wear slutty little outfits just because it’s part of your job… flirting with that Twi at the bar… telling him I’m your friend,” Anakin spits.   

Your knees are aching but you don’t dare stand up. Anakin hasn’t been dominant in a long time and you want to savor this. “I had to seduce the Hutts, Ani. It was for the job.” 

“I’m done hearing your excuses.” Anakin wraps his artificial hand around your bicep, lifting you off the ground. “I want to hear you say you’re sorry for being a brat. For disrespecting me at the club.”

Maker, you wish you were still on the floor because Anakin’s words are making your knees buckle. “I’m sorry,” you say. 

“That’s not good enough,” he hisses. You love this side of Anakin: dark and demanding while knowing he’s going to take care of you when all is said and done. After all, he’s just your sweet boy from Tatooine. He never used to want to inflict pain on purpose. But over time, with your permission and encouragement, you allowed him to experiment with stirring desires. Spanking you, tying you up, being the dominating presence in the bedroom. Giving him all of the control he never felt under Watto. 

Anakin is not always dominant and you’re not always submissive. Sometimes he likes to be taken care of, likes it when you’re in control. Sometimes you two just make love, only concerned with making the other feel good with your bodies. But tonight, you understand very clearly that Anakin wants to dominate you. Reclaim you as his. 

“I’m sorry for being a brat, Anakin. I’m sorry I told the Twi’lek we weren’t together.”  

“What was his name?” Anakin inquires. You give him a puzzled look. “The Twi’lek. What was his name?” 

“V-Vik,” you stutter. 

Anakin tucks your hair behind your ear. “Good. Now forget it. The only name you’ll be needing tonight is mine. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply. Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Anakin,” you correct. 

“There’s hope for you yet,” he replies. “Let’s get this dress off of you.” 

You turn around so he can undo the zipper. Anakin’s lips ghost over your pulse, hands caressing your shoulders before finding the little tab at the top of your back. “I really do love this dress, baby. But I know it’ll look better on the floor.” He begins a trail of kisses down your spine as he drags the zipper down your back. The opening stops just above your hips and you remove your arms so Anakin can drop the fabric from you completely. When he sees your bare ass in front of his eyes, he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. Or to you.

“You little minx,” he murmurs. “I should be mad at you… but you made it that much easier for me to access what I really want.” Anakin drags two fingers between the folds of your pussy to see how wet you are. His cock jumps with anticipation. Now he’s the one thinking it’s been too long. “Get on the bed, sweetheart. On your knees.” 

As you situate yourself on the bed, Anakin removes the rest of his clothing. The mattress dips beneath his weight and lays down beneath your legs, face right below your leaking cunt. “Sit,” is all he says. You’re wracking your brain trying to think of a time you’ve ever sat on Anakin’s face. Won’t it be too much? How will he breathe? You apparently take too long to follow orders as Anakin’s hands are on your hips and lowers you down to his mouth.

 “Oh, Anakin,” you whine, fingers fisting in his wavy hair reactively. You’d been aching and throbbing for any kind of contact and this almost already too much. His warm tongue swirls around your hole and he’s groaning into you, as if this is just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. He goes back and forth between using the tip of his tongue inside of you and using the flat of it to lap up all that you’re giving him. “Ani, that’s so good- I’m gonna-” your thighs begin to tremble as your pleasure grows. 

Swiftly, Anakin has you on your back and returns not only his mouth to your cunt, but two fingers as well. The new stretch makes you cry out his name once more. He drags his fingers along your wall while flicking your swollen clit with his tongue. His face is smeared with your juices and the sounds coming from his throat is intoxicating. You think he loves giving more than you love receiving. But then your back arches off of the bed when Anakin’s fingers hit that particular spot inside of you. Everything begins to unravel as Anakin cups your breast and finger fucks you until you see stars. “Anakin!” 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Anakin soothes, kissing the inside of your sticky thigh. “I never want you to forget…” another kiss on the other side, “that I’m the only one who can make you cum like that.”  

“Ani.” You roll your head against the mattress as your body begins to settle from your orgasm. Your fingers brush Anakin’s cheek as he kisses along your hip bone, across your soft tummy, and up the valley of your breasts. His leaking tip hits you between your folds, tempting you with what you crave so deeply. He presses a kiss over your thrumming pulse while running his hands over your whole body. The contrast between his warm hand and cool leather glove makes you shudder. You lift your hips in a meager attempt to get his cock inside of you.  “Ani, please.” 

Anakin’s lips smirk against your neck. “Please what? Please… split you open with my cock? Please… fuck you until your pussy is sore? Tell me. What do you want?” 

Oh. Anakin’s low, gruff voice is enough to make you tremble. But these words? There aren’t enough words in the galaxy to describe how they make you feel. He’s never spoken to you like this. Dirty talk is one thing but Maker, that is kriffing filth. And you want it. You want everything he said. You want to be fucked so well, so hard that all you can think about is Anakin and how good he makes you feel. Anakin grabs your hands, threading his fingers between yours and holds them by your head. His nose brushes yours and you’re acutely aware that he still hasn’t kissed you. The last time he kissed you was before you left for Nal Hutta two weeks ago. 

“I want you to kiss me, Ani,” you say sweetly. “And then… and then I want you to fuck me until I’m sore.” 

That’s enough for him. His lips finally slant over yours as he rolls his hips toward you, cock slipping into your hole with little resistence. It’s not that it’s an easy fit— it’s just that you’re always nice and ready for him. Always wet and always willing to feel that lovely stretch. You’re both moaning into each other when Anakin bottoms out. You clench your walls, eliciting a heavy groan from the bottom of Anakin’s throat. He starts slow, going nice and easy on you before setting a brutal pace. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he glides in and out of you. Your ankles lock around his waist and he wraps his arms around your back. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you. He drops his head beside yours, wild curls tickling your cheek as he begins thrusting into you just a bit harder and faster. 

“Oh, Maker, Ani-” you squeal. “It’s g-good, so good.” 

Anakin’s hips halt. He lifts his head and stares at you with brows knit together. “Just good?” he chuckles dryly. “Good isn’t good enough.” 

“That- that’s not what I meant, Ani-” you’re cut off when he pulls out of you and roughly grabs your hips and turns you over. 

“You and I both know I’m better than good,” Anakin’s words are covered with venom because how dare you insult him? With one hand still holding strongly onto your hip, he drags his cock through your slick folds but has no mercy with easing into you. He thrusts into you sharply, making you gasp and grip the sheets for purchase. 

“Anakin!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes together so tightly colors dance behind your lids. Anakin’s hips snap against your ass harhsly as he holds firmly to your hips.  

“Remind me of word you used, sweetheart. Good? Is this good enough for you, baby? Or do you need it harder?” 

Harder? He can go harder? Of course he can. Anakin Skywalker wields more strength and power than you can possibly understand. You’re not sure he even knows the full extent of his abilities. “Mmh,” you mumble against the mattress. “Hard- oh, Maker!” 

Anakin pulls on your hair, bringing your back up against his chest. “What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear and your head falls back against his shoulder. You’re absolutely blissed out when his hand finds your tight bundle of nerves.

“Hard- harder,” you fumble the word again because the pressure on your clit sends you soaring. Now coupled with the intense friction of Anakin’s relentless pace, you indeed feel like you’re being split in half. 

“This is ruining you, isn’t it? Letting me fuck you so hard you can’t even speak…” Anakin nips at your neck, leaving bruises only he can make on you. “Mine. You’re mine. Your body, your pussy, your orgasms. It’s all mine. I’m the one you’ll come home to. Every. Single. Time,” he accentuates those last three words with three blunt thrusts. He releases his seed, warmth spreading through your belly. 

“Yours,” you say through a whimper. You’re fluttering around him, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers through Anakin’s hair. “Love- fuck, Ani-” you can’t even finish your thought as you orgasm abruptly. It wracks through your whole body and you are certain to collapse if it weren’t for Anakin’s strong arms supporting you. “Ani… Anakin…” 

“I know,” he soothes, his voice returning to the gentle cadence you’re so used to. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He lays you back down on the bed, his cock coming out of you feels like a void you immediately want refilled. As if what he’s just given you isn’t enough. Aftershocks course through your limbs and you instinctively curl your legs inward. Anakin draws you near, resting your head on his chest. He runs his hand over your hair. “Was it too much?” 

“No,” you whisper, fingers drawing swirls on Anakin’s toned abdomen. “It was perfect, Ani. I missed you so much. I hated that you were mad at me.”

Anakin sighs. “I was never truly mad at you, sweetheart. I was… I was mad at myself for overreacting. Because I know you’re right.” 

You perk your head up. “What? What did you just say?” 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes but flashes the smile that still makes you swoon. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

“Please? Just once,” you tut your bottom lip out and bat your lashes. Oh, how can he say no to that? 

“You were right.” 

“Of course, I was,” you say smugly. “I just had to let you come to the conclusion on your own.” 

Anakin pinches your side playfully. “You have very interesting methods.” 

“And you don’t?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Anakin kisses the top of your head, followed by a yawn. 

“You sleepy, Ani?” 

“Mhm,” he hums. “Very sleepy.” 

Your sweet boy is back. And you wish your sweet boy only the sweetest of dreams. “I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED :D

◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist

[carowleysposts]

It’s okay to care about things.

These past couple of days i’ve been noticing that a great part of our fandom is being relentlessly shamed for still loving Good Omens and not wanting it to get cancelled, and I thought i’d share my feelings about it, as I myself have been receiving hateful messages and comments because of it.

First and foremost: many people who judge don’t seem to be able to understand the power of fiction. Fiction is the art of translating reality through magical lenses and making it easier to deal with. It’s something that brings people hope, joy, comfort and brings them together even if they’re thousands of miles apart. Fiction is a shoulder to cry on, a portal to escape through and a friend to rely on. Fiction is magic in its own way, and it can (and has!) change the world in countless ways. Whether you have a happy, fulfilled and busy life or you are going through a rough patch, fiction is always there to help you navigate your own journey, and that’s why it means so much to so many people.

Secondly, it’s important that people fully understand that we do not necessarily associate our favorite pieces of fiction with the creators behind them. After JKR and all of the newly outed zionists, it’s becoming more and more clear that art can be appreciated for itself, and not tied to the person who brought it to life. Sometimes, shitty unforgivable people can make incredible things. And, as long as you don’t support or defend these people, it is okay for you to care about things important to you. It’s okay. You aren’t bad for loving something that has brought you comfort and joy.

Besides, there’s a certain power in taking things back. In looking at the person who made it and saying “this is mine now, and you are not going to ruin it for me”. And that is exactly why so many of us want this show to go on. We all want Gaiman fired. He himself has offered to step back because he is not his art and that story isn’t his anymore. It’s ours. Going on without him would only prove that, and it is okay to root for the show to survive after all that has happened. We are human, and humans need fiction. We need our little bit of magic, and that is perfectly okay.

And lastly, I would like to say that I believe in all the allegations. Even if there’s a chance of it being untrue, it’s not in my nature to doubt victims or to take someone’s side blindly just because I think they are good at their jobs. I believe his victims, I want him to pay for his crimes and I would never, ever support him. You can feel both things: despise for him and love for what he’s created alongside Terry Pratchett. You can want both things: for him to go to jail and for the show to go on in spite of him.

It’s okay to feel how you feel, to love what you love and to be vocal about it. It’s okay to advocate for your favorite show, only you know what it means to you and why. If you need to talk, I am here, I see you and I understand.

I promise we’ll be okay. 🩷✨🫶🏻

Edit: this is meant to comfort the people who are dealing with this situation as well, please refrain from commenting negative things, this is one of those “if you want to judge, do it silently” kind of things. It’s okay to stop enjoying things after stuff like that comes out, but it is also okay to still love them and care about them. Thanks! ✨

[cloveroctobers]

NOTHING SWEETER — BODE LEONE: [Spring Prompts]

A/N: This will probably flop since it’s basically a ghost town in this tag but here I am! Plus it was also requested for me to write for Bode (again) lol which I don’t have a problem with, we love that guy over here. They’re wrong for going on break after giving us what they gave us! I also just want to say that I really miss Max’s curls but here it goes!!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE + I’m using: 18.  “Damn, I hate pollen.” + 8.  “IT’S A DEER!” “Yeah, and?” “I CAN SEE IT!”

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡ ♡

Eve was lucky you loved her.

Being up this early on your first day back in Edgewater to give her a ride to Three Rock (her car was in the shop) was a lot to ask! Not really! but what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t complain a good portion about it on the ride up to camp?

“If I get you an iced coffee, would you love me again?” Eve pinched the space in between her brows, elbow resting against the car door.

You hummed while using one hand to tap on your chin, “Add in a Mozzarella, Pesto, and tomato bagel then we’ll talk.”

Eve twisted her lips upwards, “…that’s a thing? Whatever happened to a simple cream cheese with eggs and avocado?”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a soft boiled egg stuffed with caviar.” You respond as you reduce your speed once you cross the bridge, spying the familiar deli spot up ahead.

Eve scoffed as she side eyed you, “oh yeah, Switzerland done made you bougie.”

Which earned a laugh from you as you pulled the Toyota 4Runner into the small parking lot. If you weren’t a bundle of nerves you would have got out of the car with Eve to see what changed about the deli you spent many afternoons in with your old friends. However you let your mind wander a bit as you stared out into edgewater’s view.

You were home…except your childhood home was just a memory now that your divorced parents no longer resided in Edgewater. So you crashed at Eve’s although you were completely fine staying in a hotel since Jake talked you out of an air bnb after watching some movie called, “Barbarian,” and you were tired of hearing the statistics and other real life horror stories he pulled out of his ass. Eve was your number one best friend and she was more than willing to open up her place for a friend like you.

As you took up a interest in archery and later turned into a professional Archer, you were inspired to see what the world had in store so the sooner you got out of Edgewater, the better it was for you. Some just didn’t get it (your parents mainly, with your mother being an orthopedic surgeon and your father a fire chief before his MS took over) and expected you to start your own roots here. It was kind of a thing here in this small town, that you were to begin again and build your own legacy. However you were in the tiny group of odd’s that wanted more than the expectations hanging over your head.

Which is why you were proud to say that you’ve been participating in the Olympics every few years because of your passion for archery. Of course you had people down your neck all throughout your career but you still stood as tall as you could.

Now you were back home in the place that was full of doubts but the tightness in your chest wasn’t as noticeable the closer you got to camp.

“Thanks for dropping me off, I appreciate it.” Eve starts as she spots a few inmates hanging around on the yard already, “If you stick around for a minute I’ll even do you a solid and send Bode your way. Since I know it’ll be difficult otherwise.”

Taking a deep inhale you say, “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“Yeah well…if he stays on the right track this time he’ll be out even sooner.” Eve tells, “He’s still a big pain in all of our asses but I think it would do him some good to see you…you did come all this way.”

It’s been years since you last saw each other but you came back for Riley’s funeral and you reached out to Bode when he moved away to a few towns over and changed his last name. You tried to be there even being ocean’s apart but when Bode felt low, it always felt like he wanted to take the world on his shoulder’s and find a way to make it spin again. Yet that landed him in prison and Eve had no problem filling you in on everything in between.

Would he even want to see you? It’s not like your relationship turned sour or anything…it’s just been awhile being in contact with each other. You weren’t nearly this anxious seeing Eve and doubted you would be when you had lunch with Jake and Cara—which was still weird to you—But being near Bode was different from everybody else and you knew that.

“I did…didn’t I?” You loll your head to face Eve, who studies it for a moment before dipping her head.

She tapped her hand against the outside of the door, whispering into the spring air, “it’ll be fine. He’s in a much better headspace and you’re still family no matter where you disappear off to, you got that?”

A watery smile goes Eve’s way before she leaves you to collect yourself. You’re pulling your mirror down from the sun visor, patting underneath your eyes and beginning to second guess yourself. You were here for two weeks and there was no way that you planned on not seeing Bode. You ran into his parents just last night at the bar, craving some wings before heading to Eve’s, just to be received with warm arms and classic banter from the Leone’s.

They were the parents you could talk to more than your own. If you weren’t crashing at Eve’s then you would definitely be at the Leone’s but then Bode and Cara happened so that’s when some of the distance was created. They didn’t last, like most teenage relationships but out of respect you felt like it was the right thing to do.

It felt right being back, even if it was only temporary.

Maybe that’s just how you had to view Bode’s situation. He wasn’t a temporary kind of friend although you couldn’t socialize as much but you tried to be hopeful. Even climbed out of the car pacing back and forth, not paying much attention to anyone around until you spotted the green dust decorating the navy car.

Scowling in disgust, you swiped the arm of your jacket around the hood of your car before cringing at the greenery you wiped on your sweatpants afterwards.

“Damn, I hate pollen.” A voice comes from behind, which makes you slowly stand up straight and glance over your shoulder.

There he was.

Bode Leone, standing in the flesh, hands deep in his jacket pockets, and a small smile on his lips.

You fully turn to face him and tilt your head to the side, “Didn’t I tell you once before that Orange isn’t your color?”

Bode lifts his shoulders with humor in his blue-green eyes as he motions towards the spot on you, “yeah, well maybe green isn’t yours either.”

You scoff as you motion to your outfit, “what? You don’t think I’m pulling it off?”

The blond chuckles as he takes a step towards you, “As long as you don’t start itching then sure, whatever you say.”

“Oh,” you scratch at the back of your hand and shoot a glare at the man who’s got crinkles by his eyes now, “why did you have to go and say that Bode! Now I’m doing it!”

“Sorry! It’s just that I sorta remembered that you were sensitive to almost everything including air.” He says to you, teasing somewhat, now standing face to face with you.

Rolling your eyes you couldn’t help but to smile at that. You didn’t know what it was growing up in high school, you were highly allergic to almost everything which landed you in the nurses office a lot but it seemed to relax as you reached your twenties and moved away. You always joked that maybe it was Edgewater that was making you sick. Yet the longer you stood in this town and interacted with not only Eve but Bode, you knew that wasn’t completely true.

“It’s good to see you, Bo.” You lightly shove his shoulder back while he nods in agreement, “can I give you a hug?”

Bode blinks the furrow of his brows away as if you were being ridiculous, “of course you can.”

And you’re cradling the back of his head while his fingers are at your spine, swaying from side to side in a firm but gentle squeeze. Then he’s burying his nose into your shoulder and the feel of the embrace tells you that this was meant to be.

When your eyes open, you realize that you could live just fine in Bode’s arms. You remember your final kiss goodbye in Drayscott, one month before you left the country and one month before Bode attempted to pull off a robbery—it was the sweetest thing—the kiss obviously! because it should have been happened. It didn’t come out of nowhere, it was full of intention, full of wonder and love but you were aware that it wasn’t the right time to be something more.

Maybe some day it could be.

Little did you know, Bode kept that memory not far away. He was kicking himself for the what if’s but when he manages to pull himself out of the blue, he thinks about the best possibility being you.

The both of you could be good together, could see the world together and he wasn’t sure how it all looked but he was willing to imagine.

A gasp makes Bode pull away, alarmed.

“IT’S A DEER!” You point, over Bode’s shoulder.

He glances over his shoulder to in fact see the said brown animal, peering at the two of you, “Yeah, and?”

“I CAN SEE IT!” You attempt to lower your voice but the excitement got the best of you as you almost bounce on your toes.

Bode’s still lightly has a hand resting on your waist now, as they watch the beautiful creature sniff at the grass and carried on deeper and away into the woods.

“Are you telling me they don’t have deer out in Switzerland?” There’s amusement in Bode’s voice as he peeks back at you.

“I’ve been in the city mainly but it’s been awhile since I’ve really been one with nature, you know? Which reminds me, I’ll have to make time to go off roading with this baby one of these days. Or hiking.” You jam a thumb back at the car.

Bode nods, “you’ll be careful won’t you? Don’t get so easily impressed with animals, not all of them will have the best intentions.”

You were an animal lover back in the day, so much to the point you wouldn’t dissect a frog sophomore year, which landed you in the principal’s office.

“What?” You blow a raspberry, “I’m like freaking Princess Aurora. Animals love me.”

Bode squints his eyes, “…didn’t you get bit by a goat when we were like what? Fourteen?”

“You’re really killing my vibe man and I don’t like that.” You yank on the end of Bode’s hair who laughs again.

He raises his hands in surrender and grips your wrist from his head, “alright, alright. My bad but if it makes you feel better, I still have that scar after that horse kicked the shit out of me when we had too many drinks partying at Tamsin Kadoka’s farm.”

“Really?”

Bode nods, “yeah, right on my lower back and it’s shaped like Utah.”

You meet each other’s gaze before bursting out laughing in unison at yet another memory. He’s gripping your shoulder again while he’s got your attention, “just promise me when you’re out there in those woods that you’re careful. I’d hate it if something happened to you.”

“Well the feeling is mutual, Bo.” You state, “you just had to go on and choose firefighting huh?”

Bode shrugs, “Must be in the Leone blood.”

“Yeah, must be.” You murmur, staring at him like there’s stars getting ready to rise in your eyes and Bode can’t help but to lean forward to place a lingering kiss on your forehead.

His facial hair pricks you but you don’t mind.

“Leone!” A guard calls out, which means your time is up for now.

You hold his hand, interlocking your fingers, which he squeezes with a smile to match, eyes wandering all over your features, almost as if to tell himself that you are in fact really here.

“Until next time?” He questions.

You smile, “See you soon, Bode.”

And he grins at you, those crinkles by his eyes returning before he slips his hand from yours.

This was brief but sweet and you’re mentally kicking yourself for thinking that this could go wrong.

You’re watching Bode walk away from you and he can’t help but to jog backwards to get another look at you. Almost as if you would disappear again and you would never see him again. When he turns back around, heading to the guard on shift who announces the inmates need to get ready for line ups inside at the bunks, he meets up with Cole on his way.

“Who was that?” Cole nudges his chin in your direction.

You’re seated in the driver’s seat, window down, leaning on your arm as you watch the men in Orange make their way back inside.

Catching Bode’s eye, you wave before rolling your window almost all the way up and pull away from the camp site.

“Someone i would like to give the world and more to once im out of here.”

Cole is smirking but appreciates the honesty as he claps Bode on his shoulder, already knowing what that look is for. “Then let’s make it happen, Leone! Nothing sweeter than having something on the outside to fight for, you know?”

“I agree.” Bode pulls his gaze from your retreating car, finding himself standing up straighter as they awaited for Eve to start their day.

When Eve’s brown eyes set on Bode’s, he just barely tips in his head in thanks, which the woman echo’s as she carries on along the line.

Bode already can’t wait for the next day he can get reconnected with you in person again so, he bites his smile away.

⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡ ♡

Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.

[oizysian]

An Eggcellent Boy | Elizabeth Olsen

Summary: Y/N has a school project that she’s deemed stupid, but her partner might just change her perspective on the whole thing.

Word count: 3k

AN: Happy birthday to my number one fan! Thanks for always supporting me ❤️

“Now, listen up, students! Today is a very important day! Today we’ll be giving each senior a sophomore to partner up with for a week to take care of your egg babies.”

A collective groan came from the crowd of high schoolers listening to the announcement. Yet another way to torture the students, I thought as I leafed through the little pamphlet they handed out.

“‘Your baby and you.’ This is so dumb.” I mumbled to myself, stuffing the leaflet into my backpack.

“When you meet with your partner, you must take care of your baby, make a plan for your baby’s care, and log it all in your journals.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to doodle in my notebook, not the slightest bit interested in the project. Who even cared about babies?

“You will meet with your partners and get your eggs today …”

As the Health teacher droned on about the specifics of the project, I zoned out. I had too many other things to worry about other than stressing over some egg. I was failing math and all I wanted was for Tom Sullivan to finally ask me out.

The bell rang and I packed up my things and got ready to head to my next class. I threw my bag over my shoulder and trudged out, nearly bumping into a group of girls walking in the other direction.

I growled under my breath and looked back at them, a blonde girl doing the same and looking back at me. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was beautiful, probably one of those preppy cheerleaders, not someone I’d ever be friends with.

I huffed and continued walking, pretending to be unbothered by the group of girls that no doubt thought they were better than me. I opened the door to my next class and took a seat in the back, not really wanting to be bothered with this class either. I just wasn’t in the mood to be in school.

I took out my notebook and started doodling again, thoroughly done with school for the day. While the English teacher spoke about Shakespeare and the complexities of his work, there was a knock at the door. An aide came in, looked down at her notes, and then called out one name.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

I looked up from my book, hesitating before slipping my notebook into my bag and getting up and following the aide out. She was silent for a moment as we walked before clearing her throat and speaking.

“I���m taking you to meet your project partner and to get your egg.”

It took all my self control to not roll my eyes at her words. This stupid egg thing was getting out of hand.

We walked until we made it to the Health room and she opened the door for me, waiting for me to enter before entering herself. Inside was the girl I saw earlier; the preppy cheerleader. Oh, great, I thought to myself, THIS was going to be my partner?

“Y/N, this is Elizabeth, the senior that’s going to partner up with you for this project.”

“Hi.” I managed to bite out, trying to not sound as disinterested as I actually was.

“Hi!” She greeted me with a bright smile.

Goddamn her, she was beautiful and she was nice.

“Choose your egg, and follow all the guidelines in the pamphlet handed out earlier and you’ll both do fine.”

I looked from Elizabeth to the eggs, which were in cartons on the table. They were literally just … eggs. There was nothing special about them.

“You wanna choose?” I asked her and she nodded, walking over to the table and looking over the eggs before finally picking one from the back.

“What should we name him?”

I blinked at her, my eyes moving from her to the egg in her hands, and shrugged.

“I, uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you choose?”

“We should choose together. ‘Cos it’s our baby.” She said with a smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“How about … James?”

“James? I like it. Little James.” She gave the egg a tickle and my heart melted at the sight.

“Okay, girls, you can go now.” The Health teacher said and we walked out together, standing in the hallway awkwardly.

“I already know what we can put our baby in.” She said proudly, looking down at the egg in her hands.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Let me take him tonight. I’ll bring him in tomorrow and then you can have him, okay?”

I looked at her for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Do you want my number just in case James has an accident?” I teased and she nodded excitedly.

“Of course! I’ll call you if something happens.”

I sighed, waiting for her to get out a piece of paper and a pen so she could write down my number. I didn’t think she’d actually take me up on my offer.

She handed me one of her notebooks and a pen and I flipped it open to a blank page, jotting down my name and number and then handing it back to her.

“Great.” She said as she looked over the page. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N!”

She smiled at me then turned to walk away before turning back.

“When do you have lunch?”

“Fourth period.”

“Perfect, me too. I’ll see you then.”

She gave me a small wave then walked away with James, leaving me in the hallway, staring at her retreating back. What was I getting into?

•

The next day at school almost everyone was paired up or carrying around one of those damned eggs. I had pretty much forgotten all about it since Elizabeth had taken James - the egg. It was an egg, not a baby.

When lunch rolled around, I was pretty exhausted by my previous classes and the idea of working on this egg project. I had Health third period and all we talked about was our eggs.

I grabbed my tray of food and sat down at a table far in the back of the room. I just wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

“Hey!” A cheerful voice greeted me and I looked up to see Elizabeth with a lunchbox of sorts.

“Hey.” I greeted back, poking at my food with my plastic fork.

“I brought James.” She placed the lunchbox on the table and sat down. “You can take him tonight. He’ll be okay.”

I looked at her expectantly, blinking wordlessly.

“Where is he?”

She gently tapped the box and slid it over to me.

“You put it in a lunchbox?”

“It’s a mini cooler!”

I pulled the cooler towards myself and opened it. Inside James was nestled in what looked like a nest, surrounded by little handmade decorations. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She had put so much effort into this and I barely wanted to be bothered.

“It looks great.” I complimented it, closing the cooler over so James could keep cool.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I thought that a cooler would be the best place for him. I’ve already heard some people had their eggs crack because they just put them in a regular old box with no cushions.”

“Guess they already failed the project.”

She nodded, placing her chin in her hand and watched me eat.

“How about we get together after school to work on our paper?”

“We’ve only had him for a day.” I said softly.

“Yeah, but we’re supposed to keep track of him every day for a week.”

“How much can we track? He’s just an egg.”

She giggled and shrugged. She probably thought this project was just as ridiculous as I did. She reached for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out the project pamphlet.

“We still have to give him a face. I figured you could do that tonight. Or we can do it after school together.”

“Together sounds nice.” Why did I say that?

Her cheeks flushed a slight pink hue and she continued to read.

“Then after the week is up, we have to reflect on the project; say if we were good parents or not, and if our feelings about the project changed from beginning to end.”

“This is so dumb.” I let out a chuckle and she nodded.

“I know, but this counts for more than half of our grade.”

I rolled my eyes and put my fork down. At least my partner wasn’t a complete idiot.

“They just want to torture us, forcing us to carry around an egg. An egg.”

“At least he can’t move.”

I nodded in agreement, tapping my fingers on the top of the cooler.

“What else do we have to do?”

“Didn’t you read the pamphlet?” She asked with a smirk and I shook my head.

“I barely even looked at it.”

She smiled and shook her head, looking over the paper in her hand.

“We also need a birth certificate. Do you wanna do that?”

“Sure.” I paused. “In that case, he needs a full name, right? I chose his first name so you can choose the middle.”

She nodded.

“Whose last name should he have? Mine or yours?”

“Why not hyphenate it?”

“That’s a good idea!” She seemed pleased.

The bell rang and she stuffed the paper back into her bag, zipping it up and putting it on her back.

“So, I’ll see you after school? We can meet by the gym.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then.”

She smiled and waved, getting up from the table and leaving. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and looked down at the cooler. Why did she have to be so nice and pretty and smart? Why was this affecting me the way it was? I was straight and she was just my partner for this stupid project.

The rest of the day went by quickly and I couldn’t wait to go home. That was, until I remembered I was going to meet Elizabeth by the gym. Shit.

I trudged over there, James in hand, and waited. It wasn’t long before I realized someone was still inside the gym and I peeked in.

Elizabeth was playing volleyball with another girl. I watched quietly as she confidently struck the ball, making the other girl run and fall trying to hit it back.

She cheered, jumping up and down as the girl got back up.

“You beat me again.” The other girl spoke and Elizabeth nodded happily.

“I have to be competitive. I have three older siblings.”

I smiled, watching her do something she clearly enjoyed and was obviously good at. After she had calmed down, she noticed me, smiling and waving as she made her way over.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry, I got caught up in the game.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Only for fun.” She looked down at the cooler in my right hand. “How was James today?”

“Good?” I was unsure if she was being serious or not. “He’s an eggcellent little angel.”

She slapped my arm playfully, giggling at my awful attempt at a joke.

“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I watched as she walked back into the gym, heading into the locker rooms. Something about her was captivating and I couldn’t deny it. She was kind, beautiful, athletic …

Wait, I was straight. Why was I getting starry eyed over a girl?

“Hey, you okay?” Elizabeth asked and I shook myself out of my head, nodding at her.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I raised up the cooler. “Wanna get started on the paper?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go to the library.”

“Okay,” I gestured for her to walk ahead of me. “Lead the way.”

She walked ahead of me, excitedly making her way down the hall towards the library. I watched as her hips swayed, her backpack hung low on her back, her hair tied in a loose ponytail - just every little detail had me hooked. I did not have a crush. I did not.

She looked back at me and smiled, holding the door open for me to enter first. Admittedly, I had only been in the library once or twice, and never for more than a few minutes. I walked in and waited for her, and she led me towards the back where we sat in a secluded corner.

“Okay. James.” I placed him on the table and she reached over to open his top. “What kind of face should we give you?”

“A happy face. With a blush.”

“That sounds cute.”

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a sharpie.

“Do you wanna do it?” She held out the sharpie to me.

“Sure!”

I took it from her and picked up James carefully, popping off the top, I scribbled on his face, doodling a little happy face with a blush. When I was done, I turned him around so she could see him and she covered her mouth in happiness.

“He’s beautiful!” She carefully took him from my hands and I put the cap back on the sharpie. “Our beautiful son.”

It was my turn to blush. Her words heat up my cheeks, the use of ‘our’ instead of ‘my’ really got to me. I placed the sharpie down and unzipped my backpack, pulling out some paper and a pen.

“Okay, his name. James …”

“Liam.”

“James Liam Y/L/N …” I looked at her expectantly.

“Olsen.

“Olsen. Done. He was born October 26th and his parents are Y/N Y/L/N and Elizabeth Olsen.”

She smiled and nodded excitedly.

“This is perfect. We’ll meet up every day and take notes on James and by the end of the week, we’ll be pro parents.”

We met up every single day at lunchtime and after school, dressing James, taking photos of us and James, and almost acting like a married couple. After a while, we would just talk about ourselves and we got closer and closer as each day went by.

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely developing a crush on Elizabeth. It wasn’t hard. She was perfect. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her as she spoke about her day with James or her family life or the different sporting events she was attending. I knew she couldn’t feel the same way about me, so I just fantasized and kept my feelings to myself. It was just a crush, it would pass.

We were working on our final paper when our hands touched as we both reached for the same pen. We stared at each other for a moment before giggling. I let her take it and dug around in my bag for a spare.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” I hummed as I looked over my notes, flipping through the various pages of actual notes and just doodles.

“I think you’re really funny and really nice.”

“I think you are too.” My brain decided at that moment to malfunction, leaving that as the only response I could muster up.

She smiled and returned her attention to her paper. Did I just reject her? Was she coming onto me? I bit my lip in thought, staring down at the blank page I had flipped to.

“Must be interesting.” She teased and I snapped out of it, looking up at her confused.

“What?”

“Your paper. You’re staring so intently at it.”

I looked from her to the paper and chuckled nervously.

“Ah, yeah, that. Real riveting stuff.”

She shot me one of her dazzling smiles and I felt myself getting deeper and deeper into trouble with her.

I watched as she wrote in her notebook, her tongue pursed between her lips in concentration, her brow furrowed as she scribbled and jotted down her notes.

“Elizabeth …” I said softly, getting her attention.

She looked up at me expectantly and I froze.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“N-nothing. I was just gonna ask how your paper is going.”

“It’s going okay. I’m up to the part where I have to write what I liked most about the project.”

“What did you like the most?” I was curious.

“Working with you.” She said bashfully.

My eyes shined with hope as she looked across the table at me.

“That was my favorite part too.”

“Yeah?” She asked shyly, smiling brightly.

“Yeah. I really like you, Elizabeth.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed at it gently before speaking again.

“Would you … do you wanna get ice cream? After all this?”

Did she just … ask me out? I stared at her for a moment before nodding vigorously.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.

“I guess it’s time to go.”

“Already?” I whined, looking at the clock myself.

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” She chuckled as she packed her things up and I did the same, but slowly; I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

“You can take James.” I said softly, putting my bag on my back. “I know you wanna spend time with him before they take him away.”

“I do.” She smiled and approached me.

I looked up at her and licked my lips nervously. Why was I so nervous? She put her hand on the cooler that was sitting on the table in front of me and then bent her head down, pressing her lips to mine ever so slightly.

It was shock that hit me first. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! Forget about Tom Sullivan - I had Elizabeth Olsen.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her back, smiling when she realized I reciprocated.

We pulled away after a moment and I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that was now plastered on my face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? After school?”

I nodded, “Definitely. After school.”

She took my hand and James and we walked out of the library. This project was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, despite my distaste for it at first.

We walked to the front of the school, hand in hand, and only parted when we had to go our separate ways.

“Tomorrow?” She asked again, nervously and I nodded.

“Tomorrow.”

I gave her a peck on the lips and she lit up, giving me one back before letting go of my hand and walking off towards where she lived. I watched her retreating back and I smiled to myself.

“All because of an egg.”

[kiwanopie]

Biggest Fan

boyfriend!kiyoomi part VI! one (1) instance of suggestion tooth rotting fluff. 1.3k

Belatedly, he realizes his request to have you move in with him may have been a little redundant.

You two traded keys within the twelve month mark in your relationship, by a year and a half were you coming back from your respective jobs to find the other somewhere cozied up in your respective flats. Fights didn’t really change much to the routine. Maybe a passive aggressive comment to clean your kitchen when he was too miffed at you to do it himself, a high protein lunch “Not!! made with love >:(!” But nothing could ever come between him and having his arms wrapped around you by nightfall. By year two, you were giving your clients the number to the fax at his place. Since ‘Why buy a new one when I’ve got a perfectly good one (that I just bought) at my apartment?”

Now, at year three - Full home office set up in his quaint little penthouse apartment, tenant parking spot, and a front office that signs his alerts with “To the recipients of…” He can’t really wrap his head around why you’re still paying rent at your old apartment? He knows you visit sometimes but hardly enough to keep paying for it. And even as he pads his socked feet around your modest living room, he finds it mostly bare save for a thrifted coffee table and a suede couch he’s fucked you on way too many times to count.

You push another box to him from the threshold of the hallway, another one that sounds a little glassy when he picks it up. “Seriously, what's in these?”

“Just two more of those, baby.” He hears you wheeze. “Then we’ll drop the keys off at the front desk.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nu-uh.” You punctuate with a grunt.

Kiyoomi knits his brows at the box but turns his heel for the balcony anyway.

Although, maybe the decision to have you move in just yet was a little asinine. He’s been thinking of buying a house. One with a nice view of the stars and the city lights - right on the cusp of the rural area but not a full on road trip to the city; with a big lawn and grassy hedges, white picket fence, open windows, and a mailbox with your names on it.

Or name.

Kiyoomi almost drops the box when those October winds start to nip through his jacket. The falling sky promises something much colder as he tips his reddened nose to the clouds, and watches as they darken with rumbling rain.

It doesn’t take him but a few long strides to get back to the second level where you are, strenuously pushing the next much bigger box into the living room.

“Do you have a coat? It’s gonna start to rain soon.”

You sigh a little tiredly to yourself. “I’m already pretty heated up from all this moving, a little rain won’t hurt.”

“No, you’ll get sick.” Kiyoomi parries. “I’ll put you in my jacket then. I can just run to the car.”

“Nu-uh. I don’t want you to over exert yourself, Omi. You’ve got a game coming up, remember? If anyone shouldn’t be getting sick it’s you.”

You follow his movements as he bends for one of the boxes, avoiding the second much lighter one as you nudge it in his view. “Besides, I doubt it’ll start raining before we can drive back to Tokyo. Forecast says the storm will just miss us.”

Kiyoomi shorts you a glance that’s mostly concerned with the loaded box in front of him. “I- Angel, I still don’t want you to get sick. I can handle a little overwork. You, I very much doubt.”

“Ok, wow. What’s that supposed to- Oh wait, baby that one’s really heavy-“

He lifts it up like it’s nothing.

“Oh…” You gawp. “Right. Pro-athlete.”

Kiyoomi scoffs in favor of letting your astonished gape boost his ego. Though his eyes do catch on the little sliver of polished oak peeking through the box in his hands.

He tilts his head. “What’s this?”

- You break out in a full sweat.

“Uh- W-Wait, wait, baby don’t-“

He’s already swerving to the side to dodge you. Long muscled limbs suddenly too lithe to catch as he turns his shoulder to duck your attempts to stop him, and missing the way you moue at the realization that Christ, you forgot this guy was still somebody’s little brother.

Which means beside his usual indifferent candor, he evades your efforts to stop him from peaking inside with the kind of goading of someone used to slinking away with something he shouldn’t have. Even as you whine he half taunts at the way you try to get a hold of him. “What? What is-“

Kiyoomi nudges open the seal a little more. “Are these posters?”

“Omi-“

“Are these my posters?”

“Stop-“

“Have you been-“ He almost wants to laugh. You’re jumping. “Have you been collecting my posters? All this time?”

“Can you just-“

“Oh, you framed them too.”

“S-Stop it!”

Kiyoomi actually does laugh this time. Like, he actually laughs. And you know it’s supposed to be mean but it flutters out with such genuine mirth that it gives you butterflies. It makes you feel hot to the apples of your cheeks and punches you in the gut with the kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago - but hasn’t. ~ He cards his eyes through the box. You watch him. But instead of horror or disgust, or worse the realization that his girlfriend might be a little lamer than he originally thought;

It’s pride. Honest to god delight that raises his lips over his teeth and turns his cheeks a little chubby. Zeal, and glee, and that kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago -

But hasn’t. “Why have you been hiding these? We could’ve kept these next to all your stuff I keep.”

“All my…?”

“Your diploma, your board certificate, your license,” Kiyoomi absently taps his fingers against the box. Which as he does you all but stiffen at the realization. You figured he encouraged you to make copies because it was safer having a backup, and when you found them framed in his hallway later on you thought nothing of it. I mean, he has a lot of frames in his hallway. Family pictures, the Photo Booth reel from your first date, some miscellaneous pictures of his two siblings,

Your graduation picture, your first anniversary photo, the picture he made you take before your first day as a therapist-

Oh.

Kiyoomi gestures you forward as he starts the motion of walking to his car. “With the way you iced me out before we started dating I was worried you didn’t even like volleyball.”

“Of course I like volleyball?” If the little fan trinkets in the box you’re carrying should mean anything. “I’ve been to like all of your games?”

“Yeah, I know that now,”

He makes the motion of shimming his jacket down his shoulders as he carefully sits the box where the others are, easily lifting the final one out of your grasp as he passes it over; and the way his biceps pop out of his t-shirt makes you shudder when he lifts his arms to close the trunk.

His jacket is warm, it smells just like him. “But you were sure playing coy when we first got together.”

- You, again, break into a sweat.

The way your nose crinkles up in embarrassment is honestly enough to have him suppressing a smirk when he turns to you again. Albeit poorly. Seriously, this guy seems intent on teasing you into the mud today.

“Well!” You stammer. “Because-“

“Well, because!” Kiyoomi kisses you on the forehead as you gasp at the way he openly mocks you. “Shut up. You’re so cute it’s stupid.”

He pinches your cheeks when you rightfully pout at him. “And fix your face. It’ll get stuck like that.”

“When did you become such a bully?!”

“Somewhere between “Can you be my girlfriend?” and “I love you too.””

He titters a little as you grumble your way into the car.

[storiesoflilies]

school bus love (5)

synopsis: it’s high time to throw caution to the wind, don’t you think?

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader

warnings: none.

a/n: i just wanted to say that I absolutely adore all the comments saying this drabble series is making you nostalgic. besides me telling you all a bit about myself, the main goal really was to create a slice of life piece that makes people reminisce their school days xo

drabble series / part 4

today was momentous.

freedom was teasing her, dangling sweet summer fruits and the smell of sea salt in front of her. she gritted her teeth, her wrist aching as she frantically wrote the final few sentences of her last question. the clock was ticking, and it would all be over soon.

three.

two.

one…

“that’s it, everyone! time’s up!”

she had never packed up her things so fast in her life, practically shoving her way through the throng of students gathering outside the exam hall. all she could think about was feeling the warm sun on her skin and seeing the patches of blue between the jagged white clouds. today marked the final exam she had to sit, and she was now completely free for the summer.

in a exactly a week’s time, she would be sunning herself on the beach, swimming through crystal-clear waters, and snacking on crunchy slices of watermelon in the shade of palm trees with her best friends. in a week’s time, she would be back home for a whole month, a prospect that should make her buzz with excitement, if not for the nagging reminder of just one thing.

she wouldn’t be seeing toji.

they’d had a handful of conversations over the past three weeks, but nothing more had progressed. she still wasn’t sure if he really liked her, and she was starting to become convinced that she had to cut her losses. it was becoming exhausting overanalyzing toji’s every word, trying to decipher any hidden meanings in his messages and figuring out times when he might have been glancing at her too.

the chase was quite boring without much progress to show for it, and it was a hard pill to swallow that toji probably just wasn’t into her the way she wanted him to be.

she put her headphones and tuned out the world – and all thoughts of toji – attempting to bask in the sheer relief of having finished her exams, which had all gone relatively well. later that night, after pampering herself with an extra self-care routine in the shower, she called her friends for a celebratory gaming session. naturally, she aired out her frustrations about her gorgeous boy.

“i’m just worried the conversation is gonna completely fizzle out, ya know?” she ranted, rapidly clicking her mouse buttons. “it’s not like we’ll be on the bus together anymore.”

“oh my god, girl. i literally agree with your mom,” asa suddenly snapped, taking her aback in shock. “why don’t you just ask him on a date right now?”

“r-right now?” she sputtered. “i can’t do that.”

“why not? if he says no, then you’ll know if he doesn’t like you, and you can move on,” morgoth hummed, a rare voice of reason for once.

that was a whole lot easier said than done.

could she even do something so bold? she doubted she was courageous enough for something like that, and she was still clinging to her little girl dream of being asked out by a boy on her first date. her heart started to pound as it battled with her mind, her soul watching the back and forth she was having within herself.

suddenly, a thread snapped, and the raging waves stilled as if nothing had ever happened.

fuck it.

she left the game, earning cries of protest and anger from her friends, and whipped open her notes app on her phone. if she thought too much, she would chicken out and change her mind. after typing a dozen variations of how she was going to phrase the message, she finally settled on one and quickly copied and pasted it into their snapchat conversation.

hey toji, are you free by any chance to hang out tomorrow? x

and hit send.

oh…

she hit send.

she.

hit.

send.

“holy fucking shit,” she whispered incredulously, a sense of dread spreading from her head to her toes.

morgoth grunted, “what happened now?”

“i just asked toji out on a date tomorrow,” she replied, voice cracking with electric nerves.

her friends both sputtered and coughed at the same time. “fuck off, no you didn’t,” asa said, obviously shell-shocked with a hint of excitement. “tomorrow?!”

“what do you mean ‘fuck off’?! you told me to do it,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and rocking back and forth on her bed.

“hah! well, what did you say?”

“i just asked him if he wanted to hang out tomorrow, and i put an ‘x’ at end to kind of… i don’t know, flirt i guess?”

her friends both cackled, and heat rose to her chest and face.

toji fushiguro is typing…

she gasped, more so screamed, “guys, fuck! oh my god, oh my god! he’s typing.”

“that was quick,” commented morgoth under his breath.

toji fushiguro has sent you a chat!

another shrill gasp. “guys, he replied!”

“leave it!” asa giggled, his giddiness infectious and making her laughter bubble out of her chest. “don’t be a desperate bitch.”

“fuck you, he replied quick! I’m not gonna just sit here and wait.”

toji fushiguro: yeah should be free for a bit tomorrow, when were you thinking?

oh my.

oh my…

“what’s he saying, huh?” asa giggled again.

“something good, i guess. her breathing suddenly got quicker,” morgoth chuckled, his laughter reverberating through his microphone.

hmm not sure haha, whenever you’re free i guess, i’m free all day tomorrow

play it cool. play it cool, goddamn it.

toji fushiguro: yeah, what about some time in the afternoon sure?

yeah sweet, does 4 sound okay or is that too late?

toji fushiguro: yeah 4 should be sweet, sounds good

aight, where do you wanna go? i still don’t know the good places to go to lmao

toji fushiguro: tbh i have no idea, sure like let’s just see when we meet up what you’re feeling

“hehe, guys, he says it’s up to what i’m feeling.”

ahaha ok then, where do you wanna meet up then?

toji fushiguro: oh yeah shit, uh you know where like the big wheel kinda is at the seafront? we could meet up there if you want?

the ferris wheel ahaha?

toji fushiguro: yeah the big wheel ahahah, literally the most recognizable place i could think of in town

haha ok no worries, i’ll see you tomorrow then, i’ll text you when i get there :)

toji fushiguro: yeah see you tomorrow x

she wasn’t a physical being limited to the confines of her bedroom anymore. no, she was limitless and infinite, soaring with ravens among the indigo clouds of twilight, her heart leaping with every sudden dip of their wings. life was good, life was meaningful, and holy shit. toji fushiguro had agreed to go on her very first date ever with her.

“guys.”

“what?”

“he sent me an ‘x’, and we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

general taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight

school bus love taglist: @badbyeyoongi

p.s: fun fact, these are the actual text messages i sent to my boyfriend the day i asked him out :3

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.