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#WHY IS HE SO *nose scrunchy*
alderaanplacesss · 1 year
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ryanrosshq · 2 years
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
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I love Mafia Dad Max and the twins 😭
Imagine if they have another baby, this time a baby girl, the twins are a little bit older, maybe 10 years old, and they go full protective mood over they’re sister 🥹
A/N: This is so cute, imagine you're finally bringing her home and they fuss over you and baby and Max is like ????? You're ten, sit your asses down
"She's my sister," Casper snaps, hating that he couldn't go to the hospital. "She's my sister too, dummy." Fabian grumbles, throwing himself into the couch as their Uncle Carlos and Lando talked in the kitchen. "Nuh huh! She'll like me better, so she'll be my sister!" Casper whines, sitting on the floor pushing back his dark blonde hair.
"Stupid! That's not how biology works!" Fabian snarks, that has Carlos sticking his head out. "Hey, no arguing." "Sorry, Uncle Carlos!" Both boys shoot back, Casper pouting as he hated getting scolded by his uncles, but Fabian could care less.
"Do you think Mama is okay?" Casper asks, ever the Mama's boy. "Yeah, she's strong like Dad. Besides, you really think Dad would allow Mama to be hurt?" Fabian asks, giving his baby brother a pointed look. "Well, noooo. But I heard giving birth is hard, Uncle Lando said so." Casper whispers, knowing he shouldn't have been listening to his Uncle's conversations.
"Please, Dad wouldn't let Mama do this if it'd hurt her," If you were home, you would've snorted at the boys conversation. The front door beeps which has both boys shooting up and rushing the door. You step in first, as Max was carrying your new baby girl Violet. "Mama!" You about cry seeing your two boys, still filled with the hormones. "Be careful with me boys," You warn them gently and your sweet boys listen.
They gently hug you, not as tight as they want, but at least you were back home and safe. "Told you," Fabian whispers, Casper sticking out his tongue which has you giggle. "Told him what, Fabby?" You shuffle gently and smile at Carlos and Lando who leave you be, knowing you just wanted your boys.
"I said, Dad wouldn't let you be hurt. Dad wouldn't let you have a baby if it hurt you," You snicker as does Lando and Carlos. Casper pinches his eyebrows, not understanding why you were laughing. "It's not funny, Mama. Dad really wouldn't let you do this if it hurt you," You sigh at your boys slight protective streak they've gotten from their father.
Speaking of their father, Max walks in silently, holding the baby car seat, Violet fast asleep in it. You loved this sight, Max a little normal looking with his beard little grown out, hair messy and just looking so good, who could blame you for wanting another baby, nothing was hotter to you than Max being a father.
"Is that the baby?" Casper asks, moving away from you gently as Max kneels down and opens his arms for his first baby. "Yep, this is Violet. Violet, this is your brother Casper." Max holds Casper who leans into his father's arms smiling down at her. "She's so tiny," He whispers, staring at her in awe.
Carlos and Lando grab their things, waving bye silently letting you have this family moment. You smile as you watch Casper and Max admiring baby Violet. "She's pretty," He whispers and Max chuckles kissing Casper cheek and admiring his boy. "You were once this small," Fabian slides out of your hold and walks over and peaks over the cover and wrinkles his nose.
"She looks like you, Dad. I was hoping she'd look like Mama." You snort out a laugh and cover your mouth as Max sighs and tugs Fabian into his other arm. "Bugger, she looks like your Mama." He chuckles and Fabian makes a noise. "Nooo, Mama is pretty, she's all scrunchy and ugly. That's you Dad," You can't help it anymore and start to laugh as Max just sighs and gives up knowing Fabian was to much like him to argue.
"We'll protect you and Mama," Casper whispers touching her little hand which flexes open and holds Casper's fingers. His eyes light up at that, and Fabian frowns and sticks out his finger, Violet opening up her little hand and grabbing Fabian finger who gets this look across your face.
"I'll kill anyone who hurts you," "Alrightttt," Max groans as he stands and moves the boys away, "You're ten, go play with your dinosaurs," Casper runs off laughing as Fabian soon follows. You and Max share a look which has you both giggling like you were teenagers again.
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fuckmymunson · 1 year
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eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.
eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹
💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!
🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌
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“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.
“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.
But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.
“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.
“I lost it” He repeated.
“You lost what?”
“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.
“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.
“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.
Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.
“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.
“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.
“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”
“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”
“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.
Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.
The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.
That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.
That was your Eddie.
Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.
“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”
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Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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hellfire--cult · 3 months
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💗 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 - 𝙧𝙤𝙚'𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣
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eddie munson x fem!reader
wc: 2.2k
For @carolmunson's eddie munson event that you can find here!
Prompt and plot: A romantic night at the trailer that holds a twist at the end of the story that seals the fate and future of you two - filled with fluff, yearning, established relationship and eddie munson shenanigans
a/n: it doesn't really have the stranger things lore, but this is just Eddie, normal goofy Eddie. taggin people here if they are interested to participate @andvys @lofaewrites @taintedcigs
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THE BOY IS MINE
You were whistling while moving around in the small kitchen, the water already boiling for the pasta you were going to make for today’s dinner. You were finishing off the cake on the counter, tongue poking out as you squeezed the piping bag to create swirls with the vanilla frosting oozing out. 
It wasn’t the best, but it was something. Tomorrow was Wayne’s birthday after all, and you wanted everything to be perfect when he returns from work in the morning. You finished, not noticing a bit of frosting was on your nose, and you dragged the cake into the fridge. The sounds around Forest Hills were the same as always, someone laughing at a sitcom on the TV, teenagers laughing in the back, but then at one point, the park became silent at night.
It was bliss compared to your life before meeting Eddie.
That comedic charismatic boy back in high school who got on the cafeteria tables to state the most mundane things, catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Fate brought you two together, and you found out he was not… as charismatic as you first believed he was. At least not entirely natural.
But that made you stick to him like glue, and he always reminded you that he couldn’t believe you paid attention to him. That was five years ago, and now, leaving your messy luxurious life behind, you are happily dancing in the kitchen to the sound of Rock the Casbah. At the same time, you throw the pasta in the boiling water and grab the can of prepared marinara sauce so that you can heat it in a pan. 
The door slowly opened and you turned to see Eddie walking in with a tired look on his face, your heart skipped a beat but you decided to keep dancing, turning the sound up. His eyes meet your face and you smile at him and his dimples start to form, his bright teeth shine through, his eyebrows perking up as he rushes towards you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close, swaying his hips with yours, greeting you with a shower of kisses all over your face, successfully cleaning your nose.
“How is my queen doing?” He asked with a huge smile after he left saliva all over your face. His hair was messy, and it was pretty noticeable that he wore your scrunchie at work because of the dents here and there. He had a bit of dirt on his nose so you licked your thumb and softly wiped it away and he hummed in approval.
“Making dinner… How was work?” And at your question, he rolled his head in a circle while groaning loudly. 
“If I have to explain to Eugene how to change oil one more time, I will commit arson darling– Seriously, you will have to help me hide a body with the way things are going.” He sighed while pulling away from you so you could swirl the pasta in the pot and mix a little bit of spices into the sauce. 
“You know I would completely do it, you just tell me when to buy the acid.” A giggle escaped your lips and he smiled while approaching you from behind, pressing a kiss on the back of your exposed neck. You sighed in delight and then you turned your head with a smile on your face, receiving a kiss on the lips from him. Soft, tender, caring, just like he always does with you, your heart soaring towards the roof of the trailer, and if it could, it would go towards the moon.
“This is why I love you.” You gave him another soft peck, turning back towards the food. He kept the kisses, one after the other on the skin of your neck, a shiver running down your spine as your body started to rise in temperature. He always riled you up whenever he could, and now more so than before.
“Eddie, baby, I love you too but if you don’t stop we’re gonna have a problem… and I’m hungry.” You heard him chuckle as he let go of you, going towards the fridge and opening it to gasp in surprise.
“HOLY SHIT! Look at that darling! Wayne is gonna go crazy with this.” He was giddy, doing a little jump in his place and you giggled at his childish act, yet so endearing. Your eyes widened when you saw him already poking his hand in.
“Don’t mess up my frosting! It took a while!” He shook his head with a pout as he closed the fridge’s door, rushing towards you to grab onto your free hand and raise your arm up as he started kissing from wrist to shoulder, making you laugh in your place, wiggling with his touch.
“You are the best thing, a gift from above, how lucky it is I for having thee in my life!” His voice was squeaky, high pitched, yet adorable in every way possible, that comedic side of him that never left him, despite it all. Despite adulthood, despite the hard times the two of you are going through.
“Shut up! Prepare the table and get the fancy glasses my liege.” You joked as he let go of your arm, squinting at you, a soft ‘ha ha’ leaving his mouth.
“I ran out of those, are cups of your interest your majesty?” He mimicked and you straightened up while taking the sauce out of the stove so it wouldn’t overboil.
“I guess I can be flexible. Just for now.” He smiled, reaching out on his cupboards to start preparing the coffee table for your dinner. Your stomach growled and growled in desperate need of substance and you were getting irritated at the damn noodles in the pot that just needed two more minutes. You bent down with a groan as you opened the cabinet under the sink to take the colander out. 
Eddie walked back into the kitchen in two steps and looked into the pot. With a fork he fetched one single noodle out and held it in between his fingers, slamming it against his wall and seeing it stick, a proud smile on his face while you were already glaring at him. The back of the stove is definitely filled with noodles that fell after Eddie’s test.
“What? I checked and they are done!” He gave your forehead a kiss and grabbed the colander out of your hands and put it on the sink. You whined as you looked at your empty hands and back at him.
“I can–” 
“Put the drinks on the table baby.” You sighed and rolled your eyes as you opened the fridge to take the Pepsi and water out. You walked towards the living room and placed the bottles on the coffee table where Eddie already placed two cups and two forks. 
You looked towards your boyfriend who was cursing under his breath while moving the pot with worn-out kitchen gloves towards the colander and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw all the steam engulf him as he strained the noodles. Your boyfriend that sometimes works on weekends in order to make a few more extra dollars. Your boyfriend who stays extra hours for a little more in his paycheck, and all you do is make dinner for him and breakfast for Wayne, making you feel a little… useless. But Eddie wouldn’t let you help with work at all, not for now.
You walked back towards him to prepare the plates filled with pasta, your mouth salivating even more as Eddie did small jumps next to you with excitement. You were laughing at him, handing him his plate as you two walked towards the couch and finally sat down to have your peaceful dinner. 
You devoured your plate in one second almost, and Eddie often told you to slow down with a laugh on his lips as he wiped the sauce off the corners of your mouth. You were smiling as you talked to him about your day, which wasn’t much, but it was something. You met with Robin, bought a few things you needed, bought the ingredients for the cake, and returned home to clean the house. 
“And that is how I want you. Calm, at least for now.” He said with a fond smile as he finished his plate of food, you frowned at him and then looked at your plate and then back at him.
“Eds… Am I getting fat? Like too fat? More than what it should be?” The question was out of nowhere, yet it was always in the back of your mind, nagging like a needle in the middle of your nape. Always finishing your plates at record speed, eating more than usual… His eyebrows went downwards into a frown as he shook his head. 
“What? Don’t say that, you know it’s not even true.” He replied with a soft tone in his voice and a fond look in his eyes that always sparkled whenever he looked at you… even after all these years.
“So, you like me like this?” You asked with a bit of shyness and he wiggled his eyebrows at you in a playful manner, and you already knew that he was going to say something ‘Eddie’.
“Well I prefer no clothes, but this is fine too–” And you threw a cushion up his head, making his head bob to the side, his mop of curls bouncing as he laughed, putting the cushion on his other side before looking back at you again. “I love you baby, in your entirety. I’m yours and always will be.” 
You smiled at him, and your worries vanished in a second, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips, electricity flowing through the both of you as if it were the first time you ever kissed. That kiss that happened after graduation, behind the bleachers, the two of you finally leaving the games behind and falling blindly into one another. 
Eddie pulled away with a big smack of the lips and you giggled at him as you turned to take a sip of your Pepsi while Eddie glanced at the small notebook on the corner of the table. He grinned widely an ‘OH’ escaping his lips, as if he remembered something, making you raise an eyebrow at him.
“What is that smile for?”
“I almost forgot, damn– Lemme– Cause I was talking to Henderson on the phone at work today cause I had THE BIGGEST idea for next campaign…” He reached out for the notebook and the pen, opening it, a list of names filling the small pages and he went to the very last one and wrote the name down, making you peek, a scrunch of your nose immediately happening on your face with disgust.
“Killiath!? What kind of name is that!?” 
“The name of a warrior babe!” He smiled at you, teeth showing, dimples forming as he pointed at the name he wrote, curls bobbing up and down as he explained with dramatic hands. “It is fantastic, imagine, it’s the perfect name because who would mess with someone named Killiath!?”
“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet, Eds!” You whined at him and he laughed, putting the notebook on the table again. A notebook that is filled with a bunch of names that the two of you have been writing down for the arrival of a new Munson in the family. It wasn’t planned, but not unwelcome. 
Nothing is unwelcome with Eddie and he feels the same about you.
Eddie has been working his ass off since he graduated so he could buy a new place for the two of you, but now he worked even harder with the extra hours and shifts to reach that goal before the baby is born… and he is extremely close.
“It can be neutral! Killiath sounds pretty badass, you can’t deny that.” You giggled at his childishness, shaking your head at him.
“Did Dustin talk you into this?” 
“You know, Harrington asked me the same thing. I don’t know what’s wrong with Killiath.”
You shook your head as you rubbed your belly, but a fond smile of pure happiness was on your lips. The trailer was already a bit messy with all the baby things you started buying, everything that you could find on sale, and stuff that was donated from from Karen Wheeler and Claudia Henderson. Joyce Byers cooperated with an old strolled that was still sturdy even after so many years.
Even Gareth, Jeff, and Grant bought things for the baby, lots of ‘Rock n Roll’ clothes. They said they couldn’t wait to see if the child would turn out to be a musician like his father or a writer like yourself. You worked at the Hawkin’s Post before getting pregnant, and Eddie immediately told you to quit because that place, misogynistic as fuck, stressed you to levels you’ve never felt before, and the obstetrician advised to avoid any kind of stress for the baby.
Ever since then, you had time to write a lot, and having Eddie Munson as a boyfriend helped your imagination flow like water. Hopefully, when the baby is born, you can finally put out your very first book, and Eddie said he would be right next to you every step of the way, just like he always promised you. Life was sweet, even with the unexpected turn, and you wouldn’t change it for anything in the entire world.
“Everything Eds… Every fucking thing.” And your boyfriend pouted as he cursed under his breath in a small voice and a stomp of his boot.
“You’re no fun.”
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end.
a/n: i just know eddie would be the happiest to have a kid, and try to give him everything he couldn't have when growing up.
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t1ts-4-scattorcio · 9 months
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Protective nat w a soft gf pls 🙏
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Protective Nat x Soft GF Reader
You were known for being kind which is why it was odd to see you and Nat together, especially as girlfriends. Sweet quiet girl always looking for the best in people and an angsty grunge goth latched to her hip. 
The epitome of sunshine and dark cloud + has an attitude with everyone else but you. She can have the most sour expression on her face then is all goo goo eyes when she see’s you.
“Hey nat whats up?” Jackie asks, “Nothing.” 😒 ‘you enter’ immediately skips to you “Hey baby” 😍
She loves making you happy, she’s up for anything you want to do. She lets you do her makeup the way you want it when she comes over for fun. Sometimes it happens before school and she ends up walking in with pastel pink eye lids and loads of glitter on her face. Jackie and Laura Lee think the look suits her since they’re only used to dark colors.“Pink suits you so well nat!” “thanks” 😌
Color coordinating outfits. You would wear a floral dress and she would have a floral scrunchie to match
Nat doesn’t shy away from soft readers romantic advances you’re so sweet she can’t help but let you love her. Lottie and Van poke fun at nat “you’ve really gone soft Scatorccio.” “yeah yeah whatever” 🙄
Nat isn’t scared to break a few noses if anyone takes advantage of you though and is basically your shadow, everyone knows that where you go natalie follows so any asshole know not to fuck with you.
Get’s ansty when you’re drunk, once a guy harassed you during a party after you denied his advances. Insisted he was good in bed and better than Nat in any way possible. “You’re so quiet, Nat’s got you so wound up hm, I bet I can make you come out of your shell.” TF Did she just hear?? 🤨 She was so angry after overharing him she punched him so hard he ended up getting a concussion.
After that she makes sure she has an arm wrapped around you, sometimes making you hold onto her belt loop when she can’t hold your hand.
She isn’t afraid to confront anyone that speaks badly about you “y/n is so sensitive, I bet she’s fake as hell too.” Her head spins so fast “the hell did you just say??” Pinning the idiot that said that against a locker.
You’re so sympathetic to nat’s home life, you had a feeling nat was having a hard time and your heart broke when you realized why. Nat loves how you listen to what she has to say, you hold her while she sobs after having a screaming match with her dad or how negligent her mom is towards her.
She’s also attentive to your anxieties, suggests you go somewhere quiet to relax when you’re overwhelmed, outside on the benches in the soccer field or a secret corner in the library designated for the both of you.
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whalesforhands · 9 months
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What would satosugu do if Mc had another lover?
HAHAAH I WENT IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT DIRECTION
“I think I fell in love recently…” Your eyes are glazing over with infatuated lovesickness. Your chocolate bread long abandoned as your hand rests upon your heated cheek, the lovely thoughts of your object of affection flashing through your mind’s eye. Shoko pokes a finger into your free cheek, watching as the flesh squishes beneath her skin before leaning forth to steal a bite of your lunch.
“What?!” Gojo’s strawberry cheesecake had all of its initial interest stolen,the metal spork he had stolen from Geto’s home-made lunch bouncing off of his lap and clattering onto the classroom floor, just as Geto’s chopsticks pause midair, face starting to turn pale as he pounds at his chest to prevent the cherry tomato he had swallowed from going down the wrong pipe.
The look in your eyes is still far away, dazed and enraptured with the thoughts of your mystery crush, hearts basically emanating from you as the afternoon sunlight casts a gentle glow on you through the translucent curtains.
(Since when was there a breeze flowing through your hair, indoors…?)
It’s Suguru that barely manages to avoid choking through a mouthful of his fruit, a napkin to his mouth as he spits it out, hastily downing some water.
“When—“ He coughs to better swallow the drink that refuses to go down. “Did you both meet?” Satoru’s still struck with too much surprise and flabbergasted by your sudden news, his lower jaw hanging open as his sunglasses fall onto the turn of his nose.
Just when did they ever have another competitor?!
(Suguru closes his mouth for him.)
“We met when Shoko and I were out-“ Your fingers twiddle with the newly bought scrunchie inbetween your hands, the soft material making you reminisce the feel of fluttery feelings your mystery person gave you. “He was so soft and cuddly, with just a bit of attitude…”
Your eyes close in smitten devotion, your gait growing shy as your head swirls with images of him.
“Black and white hair…” A delinquent?! With dyed hair?! When was that ever your type? (“Seriously?! That’s what you’re into?!”)
“The sharpest brown eyes…” (“Suguru has sharper eye— Ow!”)
“The cutest upturned nose, and the softest hands…”
(“I’m cuter! And my hands are way softer!”
He holds out his hands to the group, placing them atop the desks that were pushed together for lunchtime.
“Shoko! Suguru! Feel and tell her!”)
“Could this be… What others call love at first sight?” Your trance is broken once you’re grabbed by your shoulders, being vigorously shaken back and forth as Gojo gets all up in your face, leaning diagonally towards you. “No! No, it’s not!”
Shoko is absolutely losing it, barely holding herself together whilst sneakily trying to muffle her snickers as she takes another bite of your chocolate cream bun that was now in her possession.
(You don’t mind. You still have the vanilla bean, azuki bean and dark chocolate flavours to try out.)
Suguru’s still baffled, holding his head in his hand as a finger taps anxiously on his forehead. A surge of fear going through him.
(Why? Why another person? What did he have that he or Gojo didn’t? They can’t possibly be lacking, can they? Shoko may call both of them trash but…)
“Do you mind if we meet them?” It comes out even before he could process his words, even Suguru himself is taken aback by how calm, how normal his voice had sounded, how it lacked all the anxiety and anger that coursed through him.
——
You agreed. Of course you agreed.
“I don’t think he will mind at all!” The smile on your face is absolutely radiant. “Ah, he’s just a little shy though.” You grow timid once again as your face alights with another grin. Does the mere thought of him make you blush and falter like a lovesick schoolgirl…?
“But I’m sure you will all love him!”
No. Suguru decides that he absolutely will not. Not when you’re practically skipping in excitement down the path, Satoru’s arm around you as he openly glares at each and every teenaged individual that seemed to match your description.
(“Hah?! What are you looking at?!” Gojo’s glaring at another man that dared to breathe in your general direction.
“(name), I don’t like how that guy looks.” He’s whispering into your ear as you giggle, telling him to knock it off with a light tap to his nose, his whining barely ceasing.
“I bet your friend isn’t much to look at anyway!” You tilt your head to the side, a contemplative hand under your chin as you stare at Satoru head-on, from his personality to his looks. “Hmm… I think you’re both around the same level.”
“Me?! Compared to him?!”)
Suguru’s following closely behind you both with Shoko at his side, the girl lackadaisically sipping at the coffee you had gotten for her as she maintains her silence, enjoying the sights and sounds of the busy street.
As if she knows something they don’t.
“You look awfully calm. Is there something you want to say?” Suguru’s look towards her is placid, a look of feint serenity, smile stretched just a little too wide, eyes clenched a little too tight.
He’s nervous. And Shoko can tell.
From the way he’s been blowing that strand of his bangs out of his face, taking just a few minutes more to brush out his hair before heading out today, walking so close to you earlier that distance was practically a myth between the both of you.
He’s jealous. And wasn’t trying to make it as obvious as Gojo did.
(Can you even tell either of them are jealous?)
You blink when Geto assists you in clasping your necklace, his warm hands pressing against your nape as you melt into his gentle touch. How nice of him. You were just about to ask him for help. “Don’t let others do this for you, okay?”
You recoil slightly when a napkin is slapped onto your face to wipe the cream off, Gojo’s hand enthusiastically helping you as you try your best to stay still, his free hand holding your cheek to prevent you from moving too much. “Only we can get this close to you, alright?!”
Okay…? You’ll always listen to them is what you have decided.
(Unless Shoko has an input too. You’ll let hers override theirs.)
She twirls a strand of her hair as she finishes the final sip of her coffee, taking a chance and trying out Gojo’s half-drunk bubble tea.
She makes a face before she replies, the sugar on her tongue making her grimace. “Not much at all.”
Geto pins his gaze onto her, laughing lightly as his fists start to unclench. “I think I would know. I’m your friend after all.”
The girl stirs the straw within the cup, smiling. She’s satisfied with that reply as she pulls out her phone, hiding away the lock screen from his view. “Then you have nothing to worry about. I promise on our friendship.”
Geto Suguru is at ease. (Only just the slightest.)
(“(nameeeeeeeee)!!! That guy looked at you suspiciously! Is that him?!”
“He doesn’t even have black OR white hair…”
“I don’t like how he stared at you! Suguru! Stand at the other side! Shoko, you’re on front duty!”)
——
“We’re here!” You’re standing before an alleyway, shaded just enough to protect the inner area from the sun.
“Ruruko! Are you here?” You jog deeper in as the trio quickly go after you, thoughts flying through a particular duos’ brains.
Ruruko? What kind of man that has you so enamored has that name? What kind of gentleman makes you come meet him in an alleyway? Why is Shoko so calm?!
(And why is she recording this?)
Satoru’s crossing his arms, puffing his chest out as he surveys the area, waiting for a group of rabid teenagers to jump out and attack as Suguru’s watching with careful intent, stance ready to take on a sudden fight before—
“Ruruko!” You’re squatting, lowering yourself down as you start cooing. Scratching inbetween the cat’s ears and under its chin as he meows, purrs into your hand.
“See? Isn’t he just the cutest?!” You’re practically squealing when the cat nuzzles back up to you, allowing you to pick it up and hold it, letting it’s furry front face the SSS trio as you bring his furry face next to yours, nuzzling your cheek into his and showing off his shiny black-white mottled coat and pretty brown eyes.
It only meows as it stares at them, licking his paws and using it to flick at his ears.
“A cat?!” Satoru’s gasping as he falls to his knees, dramatically holding his head in his hands. As Suguru plants his hand against a wall, his other covering his eyes.
“It was a cat all along?!”
masterlist
Notes:
Both Gojo and Geto have a new lock screen photo of you holding Ruruko now. Shoko already has one.
Ruruko. satoRU, suguRU, shoKO. RURUKO.
Shoko knew all along, if you couldn’t already tell.
Gojo buys bubble tea with 100% sugar. Less ice.
nvy’s aftertalk:
to tide my non-kofi readers over since i haven’t fed y’all in a while haha
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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Imagine being obsessed with Bucky's nose. Every other girl fawns over his eyes, his lips, his dimple chin, his arm, his chest, then there's you. You’re always talking about how adorable his nose is. It’s so perfect. 
You love when he smiles because he does this little scrunch and its the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 
He doesn’t know how to act when you gush over how cute you think it is. You’re not even together so he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than blush deeply and shy away from you. 
It’s all fine until  the rest of the team catch on and all he can do is grumble over how he doesn’t have a cute nose. The only person who can get away with it is you. It really is the cutest nose ever so they make sure he hears it every second of the day. 
“Awww look, he’s doing that lil scrunchy thing again!”
“Shut up Wilson”
“He’s like a bunny when his nose twitches” 
“Shut up Stark”
“Y/n’s right, it’s adorable”
“For fucks sake, not you too punk”
“He’s right Mr. Barnes”
“I’ll ship you back to Queens, kid”
“Adorable”  *boop* You walk by and lightly tap his nose, smiling at the way his cheeks blush immediately after, a goofy smile tugging at his lips. Everyone breaks out into shit eating grins when he doesn't give you a snarky retort, looking back at you with puppy eyes instead. As soon as you disappear around the corner, he glares at them, flipping them off while they all cackle. 
“Not. A. word” 
His mind turns into ABSOLUTE MUSH when you give his nose a peck, unprompted, just when you feel like it. He then breaks out of that trance and contemplates on wearing his Winter Solider mask again when others on the team try to do the same, just to fuck with him.  
I mean, its adorable, can you blame them? 
Anways, idk why I wrote this, I was just thinking about his nose, of all things. 
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koostarcandy · 1 year
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whole damn world
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summary: a night where jungkook and you just can't fall asleep. ensue the cutest night you've ever had, including karaoke, chicken, watching modern family and loving on your adorable son.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, fluff and fluff.
wc: 923 words (issa baby 🤕)
a/n: guess who's gonna drop this and then pull a jungkook :]
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"you're just fake snoring now, it doesn't even help!"
"i counted 837 sheep, sprayed our pillow mist and even played the dreamy lofi playlist we made and it got over. i have to resort to other measures, sweetheart."
you gasp, sitting up and throwing off the comforter, suddenly running to the living room. jungkook's tired brain short circuits, glancing around the room to see if you running wasn't something he dreamt of.
"baby?" he throws on a tshirt and quickly follows after you, "why are you running? did we miss an episode or something?"
"you said we tried everything but you forgot one thing, silly!" your eyes look akin to those of a detective who's pieced a puzzle they've been chasing to solve, fingers rapidly flying over your keyboard. he watches you in amusement and adoration, settling behind you and wrapping his arms around you. his eyes match yours now when he finds you ordering chicken from his new favourite restaurant.
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"damn," jungkook lets out, "soy garlic chicken supremacy, okay?" he says aggressively and cutely, you note, his furrowed eyebrows letting you know that he was finishing the box, even if the moon laid to rest and the sun came up to start its daily duties. you're absentmindedly tracing the clock tattoo on his upper arm, midnight chicken and beer getting you quiet and sentimental.
your human pillow notices the comfortable silence from you, starry eyes following gloria delgado's rant about how the men in her family don't talk to her. "can see and feel you staring, koo." you turn your head to his side, lips lifted up at his adoring attention, eyes still focused on the tv. jungkook removes his gloves, downing the last of his beer. he nuzzles your neck, taking your homey and comforting scent. he pulls you impossibly closer, scattering kisses on your neck, tracing up to your cheeks. your eyes finally fall on his, peeking through his long bangs. its at level 3 now, you remind him proudly everyday, tying tiny braids and squishing his cheeks for your weekly change of wallpaper.
"you wanna play with my hair, don't you?" jungkook reads your mind, smiling when you nod sheepishly, already taking out the silk scrunchie which was holding his hair back in a sprout. he sits in between your legs, settling in comfortably. this is one of your favourite activities, carding your fingers through his soft and silky hair, watching the curls bounce when you brush through them.
you have nothing particular bothering you today, watching him grab the remote and shift to youtube, pulling up the karaoke version of dreamers, "lemme put on a show, baby, just for you," he says sincerely, getting up and letting bam sit on your lap now. he waits for the song to start, laughing when he looks at you looking unbelievably small behind bam.
you both never fail to cheer him on, giving him song requests and watching bam run around him, keeping up with his intense choreography. jungkook dramatically falls on you, giggling at your open mouth, mind still stuck on his sudden cover of unholy. "cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" you punch his arm weakly, "you've had too much to drink tonight, honey," you retort back, laughing at your equally weak attempt to get him back. he straddles your lap, letting himself fall on you like a weighted blanket. and he's your favourite type, made of love and cosy comfort.
you look down on him, the beer chugging finally catching up with him, his droopy eyes catching yours. "hi, my love," he giggles, turning his head to find bam nosing him, "and hello, my bamie!" he sits up slightly so he could shower the pup with kisses, booping his brown nose with his finger.
you watch the interaction with endeared eyes, finding your day incomplete without seeing the both of them, happy and content. you weren't planning on crying tonight, it wasn't in today's plot of your unusual night and you certainly didn't expect tears to fall down like waterfalls down your cheeks when you hear jungkook say, "you both are part of the most important people in my life, never forget that, okay?"
you immediately lift your arm to cover your eyes, sniffling and crying like your husband just returned from war. said husband from war is on you in an instant, holding your face tenderly. "i didn't mean to make you cry," he says, leaning his forehead on yours and willing himself to not cry. "happy tears, koo, we're fine," you reassure him, pulling back to place a kiss on his lips. you push his hair back from his forehead, tying his hair in a loose ponytail. his eyes trace your feature with starry fondness, pulling your neck so you're looking at him again.
jungkook sighs, making you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. he kisses you tenderly, leaving another one on your forehead.
"bamie, house, it's late and i just remembered we have to go to the doc's, so sleepy time, okay?" he says firmly yet gently, giving the doberman a forehead kiss. he doesn't go until he gets his customary forehead pat from you, which you lovingly give him promptly.
"he knocked out quickly," jungkook says quietly, getting up and settling on the couch. he pulls you up so you're on his lap now, nosing his way to your neck and sighing in content. "he got that from me," you say, giggling when you get a playful glare and apologizing half-heartedly, squishing his cheeks in retaliation when he starts tickling you.
jungkook holds your waist, making you go still, "god," he breathes, "how is it that when i look at you, i see the whole damn world?"
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pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk ; @starlight-1010
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carolmunson · 2 months
Text
carol’s at the laundromat — and a new character appears.
The sun is spilling in just right on the silver dryers on the back wall — whir, whir, whirring their spring cleaning drawl.
“Wait, stay juuusssst like that — perfect,” Robin encourages, pulling out her Polaroid camera while you’re bent over loading in her clothes. The flash glares bright in your eyes when snaps the picture and catches it right when the camera spits it out.
“Rob, my back isn’t built to hold this pose,” you laugh, “Also, why am I doing your laundry?”
“Cause you’re so pretty and the light was hitting you perfectly,” she shrugs, snapping another picture at your annoyed face, “Maybe not in that one.”
Her camera goes back around her neck and the half finished blow pop goes back in her mouth, stretching her freckled cheek. A breeze comes in when the door opens, a whoosh of a warm breeze with the promise of a long summer kisses you both — still in jean jackets and long pants.
“That doesn’t answer my question, why am I doing your laundry?” you ask, closing the door and leaning against dryer, feeling it heat up on your back.
She shrugs, “I dunno, you scooched me away when I didn’t separate my darks from my lights.”
“Well, Rob you can’t just—”
There’s a wrap on the front windows, sharp enough to know that its rings on glass. The sweat on your back from the dryer goes cold, you don’t look up when you hear Robin squeal.
“Finally,” she calls out, bounding out the front door that stays open on its hinge, “Took you forever.”
“Sorry, had to wait for Harrington for some wheels,” his voice sends a pit into your stomach, you stay staring at your sneakers on the dirty linoleum tile.
“Where’s my guy?” Robin’s raspy voice muses.
“Over a block or two,” he laughs, “Doesn’t wanna get in trouble or some shit.”
“Whatever,” you can hear her roll her eyes, but even worse, you can hear the crunch of his boots come into the laundromat, “Let me just grab my wallet.”
You look up to see her hold her hand out for her fanny pack which is tucked into her laundry bag still in your hand. You look down and back up with a quiet, “Oh! Sorry.”
The deal takes ten seconds total, but ten seconds is long enough to make your skin crawl. The scent of his cologne mixed with leather and weed fills your nose; he’s standing too close to you and he knows that.
“What, you don’t wanna say hi?” he drawls. Your gaze slowly rises up from his boots to his jeans to his chest to his chin — that smirk, those glittering eyes.
“Do I have to?” you retort, your body numb with uncertainty.
“Heh,” he lets out, grimacing, “Guess not. Figured you —”
“Eddie Munson!” a shrill voice calls from the back room, “Eddie Munson if you’re not here to do laundry I don’t wanna see your face in my business!”
“Aww Marj, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he teases, turning around to shout back at Ol’ Marj with both hands on dramatically holding his chest, “Can’t a guy come here and launder some cash?”
“OUT!” she yells, “Before I call the chief down here!”
He sucks his teeth, shoulders rounding when he drops his hands, “Welp, see ya later Rob.”
“Bye! Tell Steve I — we — said hi!” Robin waves with her Blow Pop in her hands, the click of it on her teeth obvious when she puts it back in her mouth. A final whiff of him lingers in your nose when he whisks out of the laundromat without a second thought, disappearing down the street to Steve’s car.
“You both really gotta talk things out,” Robin tuts, pulling her sandy hair up in a bun at the back of her head with a scrunchie, “It’s like pulling teeth watching you try to be civil.”
“We broke up,” you shrug, “It’s gonna be weird.”
“I dunno,” she shrugs back, “I feel like you guys either gotta fight it out or fuck it out — whatever happened. Just…I miss my friends being altogether.”
“I know,” you sigh, defeated, “We’ll figure it out.”
“Well you better do it soon,” she mumbles, looking over the baggies in her hand, “‘Cause he owes me another dime bag.”
122 notes · View notes
spaceblu · 6 months
Text
busted | benedict bridgerton
summary: benedict is sure he knows you, he only doesn’t know from where. and he probably shouldn’t know.
warnings: none actually!
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It’s the curve on your lips when you drink from your cup, Benedict has solved the case. Or the wrinkles around your eyes when you start to laugh, it might be it too. But there’s something in you that seems to hold his attention longer than he imagined and it has been like this the whole night.
Now he knows every and each small thing you do when you react to something, he caught you blinking to a couple of men, making it look way more innocent than it was to them. Benedict saw your eyes twinkle under the lights while dancing and couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your hands might be under your gloves.
He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that seemed so known to him that it itched a certain part of his brain trying to remember why he was so mesmerized by you. Why were you so intriguing to him when he’s absolutely sure he never saw you before.
“Here, let me help you.” Eloise says, holding Benedict’s chin with both her hands “I think your chin will fall anytime soon.”
Benedict’s eyes go from you to his sister, surprised by her sudden appearance next to him. Eloise lets out a laugh, taking her hands away from her brother and crossing her arms in front of her chest, glancing in your direction too.
“Who is she and why are you so endearing looking at her?” Eloise squints, trying to analyze you “I don’t think I know her…”
“Me neither.” The sound falls from Benedict’s mouth more like a whisper and he sighs afterwards “And I’m not endearing looking at her.”
“Brother,” Eloise almost rolls her eyes at Benedict, but controls herself from doing so in front of so many people. If the circumstances were different, she would do it one hundred percent “your eyes are on her the whole night. I have no clue how I managed to get your attention, actually.”
Eloise continues to talk and talk and talk, but you start to dance again. Benedict watches you spin in your ankles while smiling to your dance partner, your hands smoothly moving while you dance. Your hair flows around your face, framing it with curls. You probably smell good, floral and sweet with a spicy hint to it. Your skin glows and looks soft to the touch.
“Jesus Christ,” Eloise almost shouts, catching her brother’s attention again “ask her to dance, or you will start drooling any time soon and someone might slip on it.”
For once, Eloise is right. Benedict should ask to dance with you. There’s nothing telling him he shouldn’t, and a dance won’t hurt no one.
He makes the path between you two, taking his time to gather his thoughts correctly and think about what he should say to you. What kind of subjects are you interested in? You could be into arts, writing or even singing. You have beautiful lips, and even if Benedict couldn’t listen to your voice from where he was standing, he's sure your voice is soothing as it seems from afar.
Benedict bows in front of you and notices the corners of your lips going up in a small smile “Would you conceive me a dance with you, my lady?”
You bow in his direction too, but gracefully looking at him with your chin up “Of course, sir.” You place your hand on his, waiting for him to hold it “Lead me, please.”
Benedict holds your hand, almost squeezing it with too much strength, but he desperately wants to feel the skin underneath your glove. Your thumb rubs the back of his hand smoothly and the gentle touch makes Benedict want more caresses from you. Perhaps you didn’t even notice you were doing that little thing with your thumb, but Benedict feels feverish with just this small thing.
He takes you in his arms and starts dancing.
“May I ask you if you’re new here?” Benedict starts, really wanting to say something to you and make some conversation.
“Probably.” You smile, not giving away if you’re telling the truth or not.
Benedict scrunchies his nose “I’m curious, because I’ve never seen you before, but I feel as if I already know you.”
You let out a giggle and Benedict is completely lost, has he said anything funny?
“Is this your way of courting me?” Your expression has an amused smile and Benedict can’t help but find it funny too. It indeed sounded different than he wanted it too “Perhaps you’ve seen me in your dreams, right?”
“N-No… That’s not what I was trying to say.” He stutters trying to hold a laugh and not sound as dumb as he probably does at the moment “I mean it, you look familiar but I can’t tell from where exactly.”
“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I’ve never crossed paths with you before.” You give up and say it seriously “I’ve been in town for a couple of days visiting my aunt for the season.”
“And may I ask who your aunt is?” Benedict is fast with his words, not leaving any time for you to end your conversation.
Benedict tries to notice something in you that might give it away who your aunt is, but it doesn’t work. Your accent is a bit different than what he’s used to, but he can’t tell exactly from where you are. Your eyes are beautiful, as are your skin, lips, nose, body… Benedict can’t think of anyone anyway as attractive to him as you.
“It seems that you’re having fun trying to solve my mystery. I think we should keep it for longer.”
“My mom knows everyone, every family, and she probably has her eyes on you, anyways. You seem like a good match for one of her sons.” Benedict spins you while speaking.
It’s already the end of the dance, the final move and Benedict wonders if he could ask you for another dance, or maybe he could walk with you to get something to drink. He wanted to speak more with you, to look deep inside your eyes, to listen to your voice and watch your lips move gracefully.
When you finish your spin, you look right back at Benedict “So let’s see if you can discover who I am, Mr. Bridgerton.”
You grin in his direction, so close he can see every line in your face. And it hits him – your grin. He indeed saw it before, not in his dreams, but in a place where a lady shouldn’t be, somewhere he’s not even sure women are allowed to enter when they’re not in the company of a man. But you were there, he’s sure of it now.
Benedict’s memory is foggy, probably because he was way drunker than normal that night, but there’s no doubt it was you.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Benedict asks when you touch his arm calling for his attention “In the bar?”
There’s a frown that grows in your forehead and you almost open your mouth, surprised, but keep control of your expression. Benedict continues to stare in your direction and catches your arm before you could run away from him. You felt like running away, but instead you gave him a sweet smile.
“Sir, I don’t know what you mean.”
Your voice shakes a bit and Benedict can notice that you’re not telling the truth, because even if you don’t sound nervous, you obviously look like you’re about to have a nervous wreck right there. Your hands are moving, making Benedict hold your arm and start to lead him out of the middle of the room. Your fingers are restless around his arm and he could feel you tapping his forearm with them.
“I know it was you, now I’m sure of it.” Benedict can say, trying to grab other memories inside his mind from that night “I could recognize this grin of yours within millions of smiles.”
It happened the week before. Benedict decided to go to the bar alone, after a long day of boring things and a couple of drinks with his gentleman friends, he didn’t want to go home yet. It was breezy, but not cold, so the perfect night to spend in the bar with unknown people he will never exchange a word with again.
When he’s near the bar, he can hear people singing inside and instruments are being played. He enters the room and everyone is singing together, some at their own tables, others hugged next to the musicians. But there’s two young adults, probably a few years younger than Benedict, singing on top of the balcony leading the rest.
One of them is wearing a white shirt, trousers and really shining and beautiful boots. The other is wearing the same thing, but with a dark blue cape on top, covering most part of their face. Benedict sits at a table in one corner of the bar, he pretends to go unnoticed and enjoys the joyful singing from the others. He orders a beer and continues to drink, even if he already feels drunk enough after drinking with his friends.
The light inside the bar isn’t good, but when the person wearing the cape spins while singing, Benedict can see a grin on their lips, the curves softly matching the rest of the person’s expression, and when Benedict watches more carefully, the grinning person is a girl. He can see the soft hair under the hood, the pretty features in her face and the beautiful silhouette.
Benedict can’t take his eyes from her, the way she sings is mesmerizing, the way she drinks the beer from the mug and continues to move around the balcony with her partner. Benedict tries not to focus on the questions that are surfacing his mind, about why there is a girl there and who is the man singing with her. Benedict wants to enjoy the view, his members already feeling numb from drinking but he can’t help having fun.
“Sir, please, stop talking about this.” You ask, now almost running with Benedict hooked with your arm “At least not in the middle of everyone.”
You search for someone in the middle of the people, your eyes wandering through every corner of the room. Benedict wanted to ask you again who you are in the end. Why were in a bar being a lady? Who was the guy with you that night? Why hasn't he seen you before?
One of the questions was answered before Benedict could even say them out loud.
“Mr. Bridgerton, this is my brother.” You almost fly to the man standing in front of you two and hold his arm instead of Benedict’s. It’s the guy you were with in the bar “Brother, this is Benedict Bridgerton, he just danced with me.”
Your brother looks at you, noticing your breathless voice as you introduce Benedict to him. He looks back at Benedict and smiles, greeting him. As soon as Benedict said nice to meet you, you both disappeared in the middle of the other guests. How was it possible for two grown people to just vanish in front of his eyes? But you two were nowhere to be seen.
Benedict felt empty for the first time that night. He spent most of the night watching you, trying to guess where he saw you before and now he knows where, but you’re gone and he has nothing else to do there. He wanted to speak to you more, maybe the bar issue wasn’t the only conversation he wanted to have with you, his curiosity about you being bigger than he imagined.
He wanted to know things about you.
Well, now he knows you can sing. And drink.
And there’s nothing he can’t try to discover in the next ball of the season.
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probably-writing-x · 1 year
Text
Sleepless
18+ Minors Do Not Interact
Summary:
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Warnings: Smutttt with basically no plot, penetration, oral sex, choking, hair pulling, ‘good girl’,
Author’s Note: sahdkshgkdhgd this is just HOT !!
———
“Alright, we’re going up to bed,” Ward confirms, “Make sure you lock up before you go up.”
“Yeah, we will do,” Rafe nods, his arm on the back of the couch behind your head, his fingers brushing over the skin of your shoulder.
“Good night, thank you for dinner,” You smile politely as Ward and Rose disappear upstairs.
Once they’re gone, you rest your head down onto Rafe’s chests and he tightens his hold around you, kissing the top of your hair.
“Thank god that’s over,” He mumbles, reaching forward to take his drink from the table and finish off the beer.
“It wasn’t so bad,” You reply, pushing yourself to stand up and reach a hand out to him, “But I am ready for bed now.”
Rafe hums in agreement and takes your hand as he goes to stand up too, lacing his fingers with yours as you use your other hand to pick up the stray glasses from the table.
The two of you go into the kitchen and he opens the dishwasher for you whilst you put in the glasses, along with a few of the dishes left from dinner. Rafe locks up the doors of the house and comes back to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
“Ready to go up?” He mumbles, perching his head on your shoulder.
You lean your head into his and nod in response. Every two weeks you had dinner with Rose and Ward as a sort of tradition that you reluctantly followed. They’d get someone to cook and you’d all eat and overly compliment the food, make overly polite conversation where you and Rafe were quizzed on your relationship, and then you’d sit around and drink until you eventually went your separate ways. Rafe always hated the evenings, and he was like a more clingy and tired version of himself as soon as they finished - you weren’t complaining.
You take his hand in yours and lead him upstairs, the two of you going into his room and closing the door behind you.
“How much longer do you think we’ll have to do these dinners for?” Rafe asks as the two of you start changing out of your clothes.
“Oh at least until we have kids,” You joke, tugging one of his jumpers over your head.
“Yeah,” Rafe scoffs, “Kids will be the only excuse we’ll have.”
You nod, pulling your hair back into a scrunchie, “Either that or we leave the country, never return.”
Rafe walks around to the other side of the bed and kisses you quickly, “I’ll do you one better, we have kids and we leave the country,” And he kisses you again.
The two of you get ready and climb into bed, and Rafe wraps his arms around you in the way he normally does, your back flush against his chest. He holds you tight as if his hands fit perfectly into their place around you, your hair pulled up away from his face as his nose dips into the space joining your neck and shoulder.
“Good night, darling,” He whispers, kissing your skin three times.
“Good night,” You mumble in return, lacing your fingers with those of his hand over your chest.
~~~
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you realise that you still haven’t slept, but you’ve been staring at the same strip of light coming through from the top of the curtains for so long that is has started to blur. Rafe’s arms are still wrapped just as firmly around you, though normally he would have moved at least a few times in his sleep by now.
“Rafe?” You hiss into the room.
“(Y/N),” He returns in the same tone, shifting around you as his head pokes up, “Can you not sleep either?”
You turn around in his hold until you’re eventually facing him, “No, I don’t know why.”
He nods against the pillow in response, “I didn’t want to move in case you were sleeping.”
“I don’t know why I can’t sleep,” You mumble, “Like we should be tired but I’m not tired.”
Rafe hums, his voice deep, and dips his head to kiss your jawline, “Maybe we just need to tire ourselves out.”
You bring up a hand to his hair as he dips his lips to your neck, kissing at the skin and sucking it between his teeth. The sensation makes you wince, gripping onto his hair tighter to encourage him.
“Rafe…” You groan, “Your parents.”
He pulls away from you and raises his eyebrows, “You don’t think you can be quiet?”
With that, you move your hand to the back of his neck and pull him into you, kissing him deeply. You feel him smirk against your lips, shifting himself to hover over you, one hand moving down to grip your waist firmly. Your hand remains on his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. Rafe pulls away from you just slightly, his forehead still pressing against yours, breathless against you. His hands slip down to tug the hem of his jumper up from around your waist, one hand pressing against your back to lift you up enough for him to pull it off.
Your hands drop down to his joggers to pull at the waistband but he moves his fingers down to stop your movements, his eyes connecting with yours with a heat in them that gives you a bubbling anticipation of what is to come. The comforter drapes over his shoulders as he starts to kiss along your exposed chest, his fingers dropping to the waistband of your pyjama shorts, the material loose over your heat before he draws them down your legs, discarding them amongst the sheets.
“Rafe please,” You mumble, and he smirks against your skin, his fingers lowering just enough to reach your folds, already slick with your arousal.
“Already wet for me, darling.”
His fingers start to caress the area, dragging up and down at a torturingly slow pace before dipping between your entrance, pushing slowly into you. You gasp at the feeling, gripping onto his shoulder tightly, your nails digging into the skin. Rafe only takes it as sign to continue, his thumb moving up just enough to your clit, swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. It forces a whimper from your lips as Rafe’s kisses start to slowly move themselves down your body, your breath seeming to lose rhythm more and more with each one of his movements.
As he moves lower, his breath fans hot over the skin of your thighs, his head dropping to replace his thumb with the heat of his tongue. You moan out and bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the noise against the quiet of the house, your other hand twisting into the sheets underneath you to ground yourself.
Rafe’s tongue laps hot against your clit, swirling around the bundle of nerves as if he is determined to draw every single sensation from you, his fingers still working into you at a steadily increasing pace. You’re fighting back moans against your palm and Rafe brings one of his hands up to your chest, finding the bud of your nipple as he pinches it between his thumb and finger, the pressure forcing your back to arch from the mattress. Another one of your moans fights against being silenced and the heavenly noise seems to echo in the heat between you. He removes his hand from your chest and his fingers rise to your mouth, his forefinger and middle finger dipping between your lips - two of your holes now filled with his fingers.
Your thighs start to clench around him as if you’re desperate to draw more of him closer to you, moans and whimpers now absorbing around his fingers knuckle deep in your mouth. Rafe notices all of the changes, the way your legs bend up from the mattress, how your torso is drawing you closer to him, and he slows the movement of his fingers down, sucking and nipping at the bud of your clit for a little while longer before drawing away too.
You stop yourself from crying out at the loss of pleasure, your walls clenching around the absence of his fingers.
“Rafe,” Your words fail you after that, but he knows what you need, tugging down his sweatpants and letting his erection spring free, the sight of the size alone making your body ache for him.
He comes back to you, arms holding him up on either side as he lines his length up against you, pressing into your opening. You gasp at the feeling and hold onto his arm to prepare yourself, watching as Rafe inches into you impossibly slowly.
“Good girl,” He mumbles, lips parting as his own pleasure starts to take over his instincts.
You offer him a nod, releasing your grip on his arm enough for him to know that you’ve adjusted, taking it as approval to draw his hips away from you, pushing back in slowly until he bottoms out against you.
“Fuck,” You hiss at the feeling, the way your walls stretch to fit him, practically drawing him in as they clench around his thick cock.
Rafe groans at the sensation, pushing his hips into you as his pace quickens gradually. The sound of skin slapping skin starts to get absorbed under the shelter of the comforter, echoing between your bodies as if meant only for you.
You whimper underneath him, breath quickening as Rafe cups a hand to your face, his other hand coming to lift up your leg higher to allow him to drive into you at a better angle - hitting the spot that made you moan louder.
“Be quiet for me baby,” Rafe hums, his breath hot and rapid as he thrusts into you, “Can you be good for me?”
You stifle a whimper and grip the sheets once again, swallowing down a moan that seems to rock in your throat. He moves his hand from your cheek and down to your neck, like he wants to draw the moans out of you and into him, his fingers and thumbs pressing at the exact points that let your eyes roll back, your body arching you from the mattress.
He loved you always, but he loved you especially like this - breathless, desperate for him, completely consumed by him. He watches the way your body aches for him, like every time he draws out of you it’s as if you’re screaming for him to return. It’s angelic. You’re angelic.
He drops his grip on your thigh until his fingers hook around the back of your knee, pulling out of you as he flips you over, your chest and stomach now flush against the mattress as Rafe’s hands shift to your hips, drawing you up towards him. Your hands twist back into the sheets, burying your head into the muffling of the pillows to stifle the moans that the new angles seem to force out of you.
Rafe drops a hand to your head, twisting into your hair - not pulling but as if he’s just reassuring you of his presence, as if desperate to be impossibly closer to you.
“Rafe, I’m close,” You whimper and he takes it as a sign to pull his hand away from your hips, you now bouncing back on his dick in the same rhythm that he drives into you.
His free hand instead moves to your clit, swirling the bud in circles as you near your high, as if he’s chasing to draw every bit of it out of you. Your walls clench instinctively around him, the rhythm of your hips faltering against his thrusts as your toes curl and your back arches upwards to drive your head deeper into the hold of his hand in your hair.
You shift the pillow underneath your head as your eyes tighten shut at the overwhelming pleasure, Rafe’s fingers increasing pressure on your clit as the coil in your stomach seems to snap. You bury your head against the pillow and let the cry release from your throat against the material, tumbling a list of curses from your mouth as you moan and clench underneath him, your body trembling as he drives you through your climax.
“Fuck,” Rafe mutters, his hips faltering as he pushes into you once again, dick now slick and dripping in your juice.
His fingers tighten against your scalp and he slips out of your walls, hand dropping from your clit to wrap around his thick member, pumping once before his cum spills in stripes across your back, painting you and claiming you as his. At the feeling, you fall limp against the mattress, overstimulated and breathless under him. As Rafe pants breathless above you, the last of his cum drawing out and over your skin.
He drops himself down beside you, onto his back as one arm rises to rest under his head, his other on his chest as his ribs rise and fall rapidly.
“Well that’s one way to pass the time when you can’t sleep,” He mumbles as you turn your head towards him, eyes heavy after the exertion of your pleasure.
You giggle tiredly and Rafe brings a hand up to brush your hair away from your face, looking at you like he’s sure there has never been a better sight.
“I’ll be right back, angel,” He leans over to press a soft kiss to your forehead, disappearing into the bathroom.
When he returns, he helps you clean up and brings you a fresh glass of water, before climbing back under the sheets and stretching out an arm for you to tuck yourself against his chest.
He reaches over to take your hand into his, opening up your palm as he swirls circles around the soft skin, tracing the individual lines.
“So, my family are going away on Monday,” Rafe comments quietly.
“Oh yeah?” You respond, watching the way his fingers draw over you.
“We can be as loud as we want then.”
You giggle and snuggle into him a little closer, suddenly wishing for Monday to come around as quickly as possible.
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dreamescapeswriting · 10 months
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My Amygdala ~ MYG
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WORD COUNT: 1.4K
PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
GENRE: established relationships, depressive episode, Trigger warning: mentions of depression and sad/broken thoughts, Yoongi comforting the reader, 
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
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As soon as Yoongi walked into the home he could feel the change in atmosphere instantly and it didn't sit well with him, all of the lights inside of the house were out except the one at the top of the stairs and he could tell you were in the bathroom. Not only that but there was music being blasted through the bathroom speaker and he could tell because it was muffled by a shutdown and the sound of running water. He had no idea how long you'd been up there but the idea of you blasting out Amygdala while you were in the shower didn't sit right with him.
"Babe?" He called out, putting the bags he was carrying down onto the floor and rushing up the staircase, taking it two steps at a time so he could make his way into you a lot faster. The door was shut but not locked, the two of you had taken the lock off the en-suite door from the last time you'd gotten yourself into this kind of state. As soon as he pushed the door open he saw you there, sitting on the floor of the shower just staring at the wall in front of you in complete silence - all for a few sniffles that were leaving your nose.
"Oh fuck," He whispered as he watched you closely, his heart dropping as he slowly made his way over to the shower door and opened it. Yoongi stripped down so that he was standing in nothing but a pair of boxers before stepping under the waterfall shower, flinching a little when he felt just how hot you had the setting,
"Baby, it's so hot how are you not burning up?" He quickly shifted the setting so it was a little cooler but you didn't even acknowledge that he was standing there, you didn't shift in movement, nothing. He sighed a little and grabbed some of your supplies from the shelves as well as reaching for a new bath scrunchie and sitting down in front of you. The shower was large, it had a huge waterfall shower head as well as smaller shower heads that lined the walls and some seats people could sit on if they really wanted to.
"Come on," He whispers as he sits himself down, squirting some of your favourite shower gel onto the scrunchie before he begins massaging it into your skin starting with your arms. You just allowed him to, barely looking at him as he spoke to you. 
"How long have you been sitting in the shower?" He questioned as he took a look at your hands and noticed that they were starting to turn wrinkly with how long you'd been sitting in here and it was a little concerning. The last thing he wanted was for you to get sick after sitting in the water too long so he made quick work of washing your body before getting you out of the shower and into the warmth of a towel.
"Let's get you sat on the bed," He whispered as you slowly looked at him, your head buzzing with questions and doubts as to why he was with you. You'd woken up that morning feeling lower than you'd ever felt yourself feel before and all you could wonder was why Yoongi even stayed with you? Why did he bother trying to make things work when you were probably the worst thing for him?
"Why are you doing this?" Your voice came out hoarse from all the crying you'd been doing and Yoongi frowned as he walked into the wardrobe,
"Doing what?" He questioned, searching through the wardrobe until he found your favourite blanket hoodie that was almost ten times larger than you and practically drowned you in it whenever you wore it. It had originally been Yoongi's, with his name even stitched into it but four months into your relationship you's stolen it and claimed it as your own,
"Why are you looking after me? Why haven't you just left me?" You stared down at the floor, a sob breaking out as you put your face into your hands and let yourself cry even harder. Right now, all you could see was all of the reasons Yoongi should have left you, all of the times he should have gone and you couldn't see anything positive coming from your relationship together. All you would ever do was slow him down in life and make it harder for him to get through his days since he was constantly going to be worrying about you.
"Because that's what boyfriends do, they look after their girlfriends." He told you plainly, making his way back over to you and carefully removing the towel from your body before drying you with it. You stared at him in complete wonder, why would he do this?
"It's easier if you leave me." You mumbled at him, his hands freezing as he finally stopped drying your body off. He knew you were going to start saying some things that you weren't going to mean and he was ready for it.
"I don't want to leave you." He kissed the top of your head, handing you some panties to put on and you did, shaking your head at him the whole time. There were so many other people he could go to that he wouldn't have to do all of this for,
"Why?" Your voice shook a little as fresh tears began to roll down your cheeks and Yoongi smiled weakly at you, he wanted to do everything he could to protect you from every thought running rapidly through your mind right now. Since he knew there wasn't much to be said or that he could do he reached his hand out, cupping your cheek in his grasp before using his thumb to wipe away the tears,
"Because I love you." He whispered, kissing your lips gently before he pulled the giant blanket hoodie on over your body and took the towel to throw into the washing basket. You knew he did and you loved him too but that didn't mean that this was easy for him to deal with,
"But I'm..I-I ruin everything, you should leave and find someone you don't have to care for like you do with me." You grumbled as Yoongi changed into some shorts, sitting on the bed before he wrapped his arms around your midsection and dragged you to lay down with him. In his arms, you felt at home, at peace but that didn't make it easy for you to just let your mind melt away,
"You do not and besides," He whispers, making sure your head was resting against his bare chest,
"I could never find someone to replace you, you're the love of my life," He smiled a little, his hands slowly starting to run up and down your back and he watched as your eyes struggled to stay open. It must have been a long day for you since your depression had been acting up and all he wanted you to do was rest for now, in the morning the two of you could figure out the next step. He was already planning on shooting a text over to your therapist to let them know you might be ready for another session soon but he would never pressure you into anything. 
"Will you hum Amygdala for me?" You sniffled, snuggling into him more as you listened to the way his heart was beating steadily. It was grounding to you, knowing that he was right there when you needed him most, even if your head was telling you to push him away.
"Sure." He shifted a little so that the two of you could sit more comfortably with one another before he smiled and began to hum the song sweetly to you. It was something you'd been playing all day long, through your earphones and even through your speakers, just getting to hear how emotional and raw he was with his music had helped you stay grounded a lot that day.
"My amygdala, you save me," You told him sleepily, your eyes barely able to stay open as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, listening to his humming and the soft beat of his heart. Yoongi continued to hold you the whole night, not letting you go for a second because there was nothing he wouldn't do if it meant protecting you, even from your own mind.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling @backintomykpopphaseagain
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sadhours · 20 days
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Pervy Billy please 🤤🤤🤤
okay okay, here’s a teaser of my upcoming series stuck in the middle with you
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billy hargrove x pamela oc!mayfield
cw: 18+ minors dni, perv!billy, stepcest, psuedocest, teasing, groping, dry humping and masturbation
🎀🤍🚬🍦
It’s like the little bitch does it on purpose. Those shorts can barely be classified as such, they’re practically just underwear and she’s prancing around the house like she’s trying to get a rise out of Billy. It’s making him pretty damn bricked up, just trying to enjoy his fucking bowl of Wheaties.
They’re alone. Neil and Susan shopping, like they do most Saturday mornings and Billy’s got no idea where Max is nor does he care. Pamela is doing her chores, pale blonde hair bouncing whenever she reaches down to grab miscellaneous clutter. Thanks to the motion, he also notices she’s not wearing a bra; breasts swaying under her thin cotton shirt. God, her legs are long, he thinks as he skates his eyes up and down them.
Billy’s aware he’s staring. Part of him thinks Pamela wants him to. He shovels another spoonful of cereal in his mouth before dropping the bowl in the sink for Pamela to clean. It’s her chore after all.
He’s got his own chores. Lists them off in his head; fix the leaky faucet in the bathroom, organize the garage, mow the lawn, wack all the weeds and take out the garbage. They can wait, he decides as he keeps his place in the kitchen and watches as his step sister continues on with her chores. Chews on his lip as she uses the scrunchie on her wrist to tie her hair up in a bun. She starts by cleaning off the counters, putting everything back in its place before she takes her place at the sink. A smirk spreads across his lips and he crowds behind her, places his hands on the counter to cage her in.
Pamela tilts her head, doesn’t look at him but exposes her neck like she’s expecting something. Billy takes these movements slow and calculated. He doesn’t want to scare her off, but then again, he’s sure Pamela is playing the same game he is. He laughs, soft as he towers over her. His breath fans over her neck and Pamela’s skin pricks with goosebumps as she wets the sponge. Squirts dish liquid on it before she finally speaks up, “Can I help you?”
Billy purses his lips, closes the gap between Pamela’s ass and his crotch as he tells her, “Just making sure you’re doing a good job is all.”
She snorts but continues cleaning the dishes and maybe Billy’s imagining it but he thinks he feels her push her ass back against him. So he grabs her waist, holds her steady and presses his lips against her exposed neck. It’s not a kiss. Just to feel her warm skin. Rolls his hips slow, testing before moving his hands to feel up her sides. Swooping forward and cupping her breasts in his palms.
He kneads them in his hands, shamelessly rolling his hips and Pamela elicits the prettiest little sound. A moan if Billy’s not mistaken and it makes him greedy. Slams his hips forward, grinding against her ass in those tiny shorts while he gropes at her tits. Pamela drops the silverware and sponge, gripping onto the edge of the counter as she pants.
“See what you’re doing to me?” Billy asks against her ear, rocking his hips forward again. Making sure she can feel the way his cocks hard in his basketball shorts. “Walking around in that shit… dressed like a fucking slut,” he pants, “Tryna get my attention, huh?”
“Billy,” she gasps, a whine of a thing.
He pulls her top up, just enough to expose her tits and gets his hands back on them. Pinches her nipples, rutting against her like the pathetic little perv he is.
“Billy.. we— ah, we can’t,” he babbles out, but she’s still grinding back against him.
“We can’t what?” he grunts out, nose bushing against her temple.
“Do this,” Pamela replies, hands moving to reach for his wrists. “It’s wrong.”
Billy knows it’s wrong. That’s part of why he can’t stop thinking about her like this.
But she’s right. This was probably far enough. He pulls away, looks down at her as she turns. Her pretty face all flushed. And he acts kind of like a child, stomping away to his room and slamming his door. Just to lean against it and shove his shorts down, get his cock out and wrap his hand around it.
“Fuck,” he whines, closing his eyes and imagines his step sister on her knees in front of him. “Oh, you slut,” he whispers, lips twisting up as he plays out this fantasy. Fucks his fist hard and fast, cumming with her name on his lips.
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daisynik7 · 1 year
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This is gonna sound like a silly little request BUT Nanami is the type to get cute gifts for reader. She always has cute ribbons, hair pins and scrunchies in her hair, he can't resist thinking how fruit pattern scrunchies he got for while away on mission will look on her. What he didn't expect tho, is that he'd end up wearing one of her frog scrunchies on his wrist - after he presented her with ones he got, she took her favorite of, put it on his wrist and went to try out new ones. And he rarely takes it of, he endures Gojo's (or anyone else's) teasing but the frog scrunchie stays on! In his mind, she always there with him, it smells like her and when he is to stressed he leans his nose into it (and moment is ruined with Gojo's cackling, the headache is back). ALSO, pretty sure he sits drying and combing her hair (after he washed it), even braiding it for her. No way he doesn't end up with a hair clip in his own hair sometimes, like she'll pin his bangs up when they get into his eyes while cooking or reading.
cw: established relationship, fluff, reader has longish hair.
Author’s Note: omg anon, this is SO CUTE, you are brilliant for coming up with this! Not a silly request AT ALL, I LOVE IT SO MUCH! I basically just expanded on what you sent me, so I hope you like it, let me know what you think! You definitely deserve all the credit here for coming up with this one. 🤩
Divider created by @/dividers-and-banners!
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“Nanamin, no way you’re wearing that right now.” 
Gojo sits across the table from him, the typical cocky smirk on his face, covered eyes staring at Nanami’s hand. Your boyfriend rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt, forgetting that his cuffs hid the froggy scrunchie on his wrist, exposing it to his annoyingly observant friend. He sighs, prepared for the ridicule he’s sure to endure for the next several minutes. Without taking it off, he responds, “It’s my girlfriend’s.”
“Obviously. The answer I really want to know is why in the world are you wearing it?” The grin on his face grows even wider, irritating Nanami. 
Deciding to be honest about it, because there’s no other way to explain it, he answers, “It brings me comfort.”
He’s doesn’t expect the uproar of laughter from his now former friend. While Gojo is doubled over, cackling, Nanami brings his wrist up to his nose, inhaling the faintest scent of you into his nostrils, instantly relieving the incoming migraine caused by his white-haired colleague. He nuzzles his nose against the soft, spongy fabric, picturing your ponytail swinging with it tied around your hair. He misses you, a little too much. But this small trinket is enough to get him through the day. A little piece of you that stays with him, even if it is in the form of a silly frog scrunchy. He’d wear a hundred more of them all along his arm if it meant more of you could be with him. 
This all started when he began to buy you different accessories whenever he was out on a mission. Your collection has grown, thanks to him: Butterfly clips, silky ribbons, hair pins with faux pearls on them, scrunchies with different types of patterns. He’s found a use for them himself: you managed to pin a clip onto his bangs while he reads his novel in bed, growing tired of seeing the stray hairs cover his eyes. At first, he protested. After seeing the gleeful smile on your face, he had no choice but to relent. Now, it’s expected of you to slide a bejeweled clip onto his luscious locks every night. 
The latest set he got you was fruit themed; he was so excited to see you in it, proud of the selection he chose all on his own. So much so that he offered to do your hair that night. His fingers were nimble and smooth on your scalp as he washed your hair, rinsing it through with warm water, making sure that none of the suds got into your eyes. He wrapped a towel around your dripping mane, massaging until it was damp instead of soaking. He even took the time to blow dry, combing through the tangles with your brush. Finally, he tried every hairstyle he could think of to model his gift for you. A strawberry scrunchy for the classic ponytail. Lemon and watermelon for pigtails. Orange for a French braid. Banana for a top bun. His smile grew each time, seeing the literal fruits of his labor decorated in your beautiful hair. The only outlier that didn’t match with the rest of them was the random frog it came with. So, as a joke, you slid it onto his wrist, claiming it was his to wear forever. 
It comes in handy more than you expect. Several occasions, you’ve asked if he could help tie up your hair as you leaned over the kitchen stove, cooking dinner. Each time, it was froggy scrunchy to the rescue. Nanami made sure that it made its way back to him whenever you were done using it. It’s never left him since, either worn as a bracelet or resting peacefully in his pocket for easy access. 
Gojo finally calms down from his fit, readjusting his blindfold. “How could that thing possibly bring you comfort?”
Nanami smiles to himself, brushing his thumb over the frog wrapped happily around his wrist. “It lets me carry her around with me wherever I go.”
Even after more ridicule and some incriminating photos, to which he gave up trying to convince Gojo to delete, Nanami makes it his top priority tomorrow morning to stop by the mall and purchase more scrunchies for his sweetheart.
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vqrtualheartss · 8 months
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hii -
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MAN ALL IFYOU AIN'T READING SCROLL DOWNNN
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baby miles and y/n― writing practice
So in the miles x churchgirl!y/n thing I recently wrote like a scene of them as babies and my heartt. So i'ma write another and put it here ― as writing practice so yea. These also co relate somewhat to the story
You sat in the playground by yourself as expected by your mother that left you for who knows what. It's basically a weekly routine for the both of you ― she'd go off on her business and 7-year-old you would "just do whatever" as she instructed. Some mother she is, and you couldn't even figure out why she'd take your sister with her but leave you alone. Although weird to think about you never spoke on it, your intuition always making you wary not to. so. you just didn't.
You weren't alone alone though, it's been what? a year now since you've been friends with Tía Rio's son, Miles. You hid your friendship with him from your mother though, fearful of what she'd threatened the first time she saw you two.
Getting bored on the swings, you hopped off to run towards the bushes redecorated with beautiful spring flowers. Picking one and examining it brought you some sort of happiness, however that washed away by the unease of some unfamiliar presence. Unsure of what to do, you remain still, planning out what to do if by chance it was a kidnapper.
"BOO"
The loud scare made your turn around and quickly hide your face with your hands; the pink tulip falling.
"Miless-uhh. I told you to stop doing that" "¿qué? are you gonna cry"
He started to pry off your hand with his, laughing when he saw you peeking at him.
"I'm sorry" "Are you though" "Yes"
Taking the flower off the ground he placed it in the top of the high puff you had. He squinted, scratching the back of his neck rapidly
"What" "How does your hair do that?" "Do what" "The flower in your hair is staying put, Rebecca's hair can't do that" because she's white Miles.
You just shrugged, unsure of how to answer. Miles scooted his pursed lips under his nose
"Can I put in more?" You stared at him for a good 10 seconds before nodding "I don't see why not"
After directing you to sitting stones beside the sand-pit he came back with a bunch of flowers, of which some fell and left a trail behind him.
He took down your hair, placing your scrunchie around his wrist before beginning. The whole time he stuck on his tongue sideways to focus, using both hands of his to shape your fro before placing a flower in it.
"I'm finished" "Does it look pretty ?" "No, you look like my papa's boot"
Both flabbergasted and somewhat disappointed you crossed your arms, turning your face away from his view
"I'm joking. You do"
He wore an apologetic look on his face; a tell tale sign he meant his words. Getting up from the stone you walked over to him, embracing him if by any chance your mother would appear out of nowhere. He hugged you back, his tiny hands barely touching around your back.
"Will you ever grow"
"Shut up and do my hair"
-----
Watching from afar Rio had a questioning look as to why her son and her son's best-friend were basically stripping the bushes then running over to the stones until they both ran up to her.
"Tía Tía" "Mama Mama"
Miles turned around and stopped running, you following in tow uncertain why he did.
"Don't freak out okay" "Okay"
He pointed to a spot in your hair so you felt around it, eyes widening when you felt something flutter against your palm. You ran around in circles, deathly terrified of the winged creatures called butterflies while Miles tumbled on the floor from laughing at your misery. Rio had to pretend to be looking at a tree unless she'd burst out laughing.
Standing up once more, Miles felt that he should've moved when he saw you running at full speed towards him; but he didn't. That resulted in you two on the ground, one child crying for dear life and the other tired of it.
---
This is so not done
Y'ALLLLLL
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