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#but I especially don’t know what to do with this one
gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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@thelightofmylife wouldn’t it be funny if I decided to reread your entire HSR writing list again (I in fact did)… lolol <3 I’m still thinking about your response to me btw. You’re very kind 💖💞💗 truly I can’t get enough of your writing and I suppose kind words
No pressure to do this request if you don’t want to, you can also take this ask as an invitation to chat too
( ´ ▽ ` )ノ
ahh! I was thinking ,,,, Sunday + Aventurine + Jing Yuan… and anyone else you would personally want to do …!! Giving them headpats because you love them soooo much!!! And receiving or asking for headpats in trade … <3 i think it’s a universal thing that headpats are <33 so good and lovely and good for showing love ;w;’ <3
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Jing Yuan will gladly accept your head pats, he finds your beaming face adorable as you gently patted his head as though you were being extremely cautious with how you gave him head pats.
He recognises it as your primary display of love after awhile and would create a routine where he would just sit himself in front of you, claim that he was meditating, and closes his eyes and waits until he felt you begin to pat him on the head and mutter ‘soft floofy hair’ under your breath as he fights back the urge to smile.
You really do want his heart and he didn’t want to go back to a reality where he did not know the power of your comforting head pats.
Someone could’ve been looking for him about something serious and when they’ve enter the room, they are greeted to the sight of him him dozing off all the while getting treated to some well deserved head pats from you.
A bird popped out of his hair once during a headpat session and you were scared off of giving him head pats for a while in fear of having another tiny bird fly out from his hair. Jing Yuan was a sad man that day and would stop fucking pouting until Yanquing asked you to put him out of his misery and give Jing Yuan his head pats, he couldn’t train with a moody general who didn’t get his daily head pats.
Jing Yuan wasn’t afraid of giving out headpats of his own. He gave Yanquing a couple in the past but he used them sparingly. You however, you could have as many headpats as you’d like from him and Jing Yuan wouldn’t complain, especially not as he got the chance to watch you melt under his touch to the point you were practically cuddled into his side with a look of pure content written across your face.
So if he were to see that you weren’t having the best of days he’d immediately start giving you headpats in hopes of making you feel better. Jing Yuan’s logic was that seeing as how your headpats always helped make his day just that little bit brighter. Jing Yuan could only hope that he could pay it forward to you in a way that let you know that he would always have your back, always.
Aventurine leans into your hand as you give him head pats and closing his eyes as he enjoyed any amount of affection you decided to give him.
He needed this, he really did.
At first he was afraid of what the implication meant but now, he would practically sprawl himself across your lap and silently wait until you were done with what you were doing to give him some head pats, whining that you don’t pay enough attention to him.
He wasn’t use to such gentle, loving touch such as yours and now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s become addicted and would always find a way to get you to give him head pats no matter what. He would ask but Aventurine felt as though he was only worth them when he’s done something to earn such affection.
He viewed everything as a transaction and your headpats were no different.
Until you told him one day that he didn’t have to ever ask to receive love and affection, at least not with you and that you would gladly give him headpats just for waking up.
Aventurine cried that night in your arms as you gave him soft, comforting headpats.
Now aventurine demands headpats for practically everything but you didn’t mind as you were more than happy to spend hours on end if it meant spending time with your lover and reassuring him of your love for him. It heals apart of him that he didn’t know needed healing before, you heal him with your unwavering kindness and compassion and he didn’t know how the appropriate way to thank you, other then to give you some headpats himself.
Aventurine’s headpats were soft, gentle, Alamo as though he was scared he was going to hurt you but they were reassuring and encouraging at the same time that made you feel as though you could move mountains.
His headpats were like a silent ‘I love you’ for a singular reason.
He would pat your head three times and linger there for a couple of seconds then patting your head three more times before repeating this a couple more times, even going as far as to adding in a couple of kisses to your face in between. He loved hearing you laugh but he loved it when you shown signs of being comfortable, being safe with him as that was all he wants was to make you feel safe and happy with him because that’s how you made him feel on a daily basis.
Sunday finds your need to give him head pats amusing and will gladly let you do so to your hearts content if it brings you so much joy.
It doesn’t matter if he was busy because Sunday will always make room for you and you head pats no matter what, and will stress the importance to his staff that a specific time slot remains reserved for you and only you because your head pats were pure magic to the Halovian.
His wings would flutter softly and in time with your head pats that you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute the sight was as Sunday tries to get them to stop, but ultimately just accepts that his wings had a mind of their own when it came to you and how reciprocal they were to your touch.
He defiantly needs them after a hard days work and will most defiantly collapse on your lap, wings drooping like a pair of dog ears in tandem to express his exhaustion, and sigh as he felt you begin to softly pat his head.
‘You’ve done amazing today honey.’ You tell him.
‘Thank you my dearest but all I want to do now is relax with you if that’s quite alright with you.’ Sunday said tired and you couldn’t deny him when he was like this, and for the rest of the afternoon you spent cuddled up with Sunday and giving him head pats as his wings tried to match with the pace of your pats.
Sunday does reward you with headpats of your own but they may not come as frequently as you might like but you understood that he was a busy man, when you do get your headpats its mainly when you were on the brink of falling asleep, so often times it felt like a dream. Sunday wishes he could give you as many headpats as you’d like but giving you them while you were half asleep was for the best.
Bonus: when he’s cuddling you from behind, his wings will try and give you headpats but end up hitting the sides of your face, so somethings you’d wake up to a pair of soft grey wings softly smacking you first thing in the morning.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 2 days
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LN4 | Kiss and Make Up
Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader (enemies to lovers)
WC: 5.0K
Warnings: cursing?
Masterlist
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You heard the keys jiggle in the door, followed by the creaking sound of it opening, and your brother stomping through the hallway of your parental home. You finally have some time off from school after the insane amount of deadlines and exams that filled your last couple of weeks and decided to visit your family. You like studying and university, but it’s nice to come home and be taken care of instead of doing everything on your own. However, you’re still in charge of dinner tonight. You can never make it back home without being forced to make your famous lasagne at least once and tonight’s the night your family will be blessed with your famed, home-made dish. 
Max smiled when he saw you standing in the kitchen, chopping up the veggies for tonight. Although he’d never tell you directly, he had missed you. Max still lived close to your parents whereas you had moved further away for school. It made it difficult to see each other regularly, especially since Max had started Quadrant with Lando and didn’t make the effort to visit you anymore. Seeing you in person had become a rare occurrence, something that would only happen in his parents’ house.
Max put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned forward to watch what you were doing. “Hey sis, are you making lasagne?” He said with a smile.
“Hello Y/N, I’ve missed you. How are you doing? – I’m doing well, Max. Thank you for asking.” You mumbled as you continued to cut vegetables for dinner.
You couldn’t see it with your back towards your brother, but he smiled at your antics. “Hello my dear sister, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I do wonder how you’re doing.”
You turned around and smiled when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s your own fault. You never come to visit me, but I’m doing well now that the exams are over,” you tell him with a chuckle.
Max decided to ignore your complaint, instead redirecting the conversation to what you were busying yourself with. “So, lasagne?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Max. I’m making lasagne for dinner.” 
He silently cheered at your response. A cheeky smile made its way onto his face when he asked, “Is there enough for one more?”
“Depends… Who’s it for? P?” You said, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as you cut up more veggies.
“Does it matter who I invited? You won’t let anyone else eat your lasagne?” He said with a laugh, but you knew the question was serious. He knew you didn’t particularly get along with some of his friends – actually, one of his friends, Lando. To say your relationship with Lando isn’t great would be an understatement. Max didn’t know why exactly you didn’t get along, you’ve never indulged him, but the dislike is clearly noticeable and has been going on for ages. Max had tried to improve the relationship in the past, but nothing had worked, only making it worse. He doesn’t understand why Lando, specifically; you don’t seem to have any issues with his other friends. 
You looked at Max pointedly; he was asking for something he already knew. Of course, you’d let people other than P eat your lasagne. There’s only one person that you wouldn’t allow.
Max sighed at your seriousness, “Yes, I’ve invited P,” he told you.
You smiled triumphantly, “Good! I’ve missed her; more than you, actually,” you said with a snort.
Max rolled his eyes at your comment. “I should never have introduced you two. You’re suspiciously close,” he mumbled as he shook his head, leaving the kitchen.
You grinned at his comment and continued to prepare dinner. You carefully cut the veggies, made the sauce and built the lasagne before you covered it with cheese. After you finally put it in the oven, you went to your room to freshen up. Of course, you cannot cut tomatoes without getting juice on your shirt, so clean clothes are a necessity. You quickly changed your shirt, reapplied your deodorant, and fixed up your hair before you heard the door opening, footsteps and voices following soon after. You smiled as you walked down the stairs, excited to see Pietra after months. You walked into the room, ready to hug your brother’s girlfriend, only to see his boyfriend making himself comfortable on the couch.
Your smile dropped from your face in an instant, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Lando,” you said in a low voice. What on earth was he doing here? Your brother told you he’d invited his girlfriend, your friend; was she not here yet? Lando must’ve come to pick something up, right? He wouldn’t visit around this time unless he came to pick something up… Or come for dinner… Judging by how comfortable he had made himself on the couch, you doubt it’s the former.
“Y/N! How are you?” Lando said, getting up from the couch to properly greet you. You scoffed and folded your arms as he moved closer.
“What are you doing here?” 
“Nice to see you too,” Lando said with a smirk.
“I hope you’re not here for dinner,” you continue.
“I am here for dinner, actually. Max invited me.”
You shifted your eyes over to Max in anger. He’d told you P would be coming over, not Lando. The little bitch. 
“I take it P’s not coming, then?” It was evident in your voice that you were upset.
Max looked at you with apologetic eyes, like a child being scolded, as he avoided your gaze. At the lack of response, you turned your attention back to Lando.
“There isn’t enough food for all of us, and even if there was, it probably wouldn’t match your fancy diet anyway. Go buy a salad or something,” you told him, rolling your eyes.
Lando couldn’t help but smile at your response. “Such hostility,” he said, his hand resting on his chest in fake hurt, and a teasing grin on his face that made you want to slap it off.
You gritted your teeth at the teasing – God, this man frustrated you to no end, and he was enjoying it, too. 
“Fuck off, Lando. You’re not welcome here,” you said before walking away.
Lando was about to follow you into the dining room, unable to resist teasing you further, but Max stopped him. “Come on, man. Don’t provoke her. She’s already annoyed, especially because I lied to her.” 
You paced the dining room in an attempt to calm yourself down while the lasagne cooked in the oven. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. You'd cooled off until you realised you’d have to set a place for Lando. You frowned as you stared at the last plate. Why couldn’t Lando just leave you alone? He should know not to bother you, you’d shown him before how petty you could be when he frustrated you, so why did he have to try again and again? Should you act like the bigger person, get over yourself and set the table for Lando, or should you 'forget' about Lando and set only four places? Your parents would be upset for sure, but the urge to retaliate is so strong. You stood still for at least a minute as you weighed your options. 
A smile crept its way on your face when you spotted the kids’ table in the corner of the dining room. Usually, it’s only used for big family events, when your much younger cousins come to visit. They don’t properly fit at the adult table and have their own tiny table in the corner of the room. A normal-sized human wouldn’t properly fit on one of the seats, but then again, Lando’s short, right? Besides, if he acts like a child, then he can sit at the children’s table. You grab the children’s cutlery and plate from the cabinet and set a special place for Lando. You can barely keep your laughter back at the thought of Lando sitting at the small table in a chair that’s way too tiny for him.
When you heard the timer beep, you tried to neutralise your expression. You placed the lasagne on the kitchen table before calling your family (and Lando) for dinner. Your parents were, unsurprisingly, the first to join you at the table. The boys, naturally, were still finishing up the game they started before dinner was finished. Your parents were already seated and provided with drinks before the boys came walking in. Although your parents hadn’t noticed the table in the corner or the missing chair, your brother noticed straight away.
He looked at you disappointedly as he said, “Y/N, did you seriously not set a place for Lando?”
“No, I did. It’s right over there,” you said, pointing to the kids’ table.
The boys looked in the direction you were pointing, and Max started laughing immediately. Meanwhile, Lando was shocked at how blunt you were being. So far, every retaliation you’d ever taken wasn’t that obvious. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disappointment as he stared at the table – did you really dislike him that much?
“Where’s the other chair?” Max asked, still chuckling as he stood at the empty spot by the table.
You didn’t look up when you responded, “I don’t know,” shrugging your shoulders as you casually continued to divide the lasagne.
Lando sighed as he tried the chair, his knees pointing out above the table. Max only laughed louder at the image, and your dad couldn’t resist chuckling either while Lando pouted.
“I can’t eat like this.” 
“Then don’t. I told you you’re not welcome.” 
“Y/N!” Your mum scolded you before turning to Lando. “You’re always welcome here, darling. Ignore her,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.
You rolled your eyes.
“Where did you put the chair?” She questioned you.
You sighed, “They’re just in the pantry,” you admitted.
Your mum stood up and grabbed the chair for Lando who was still sitting in the tiny seat, while Max took pictures to post on his story, laughing. Lando smiled thankfully when she came back with the chair and grabbed a normal plate to serve him a generous portion of your homemade lasagne.
You couldn’t help but glare at Lando when he took his first bite. He was undeserving of the food into which you had put so much effort and love. You couldn’t even enjoy your own portion with the boy sitting across from you, although it tasted great. But Lando couldn't enjoy it either with the glares you kept sending him. Your resentment made him uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d be afraid that you’d poisoned his dinner. That was not your style though; he knew exactly how you liked to take your revenge. After all, he had experienced your wrath many times, and he had to admit you were very creative in creating your retaliations. He could never be entirely sure, or proof that you were the cause, but everything about the weird situations he’d been in the past years screamed your name.
There was one time that he’d gotten tens of phone calls every day for a week about a missing key. Even now, he gets occasionally gets calls about a key that was found. It seems quite innocent, but Lando’s phone was blowing up the entire week at the most inconvenient times: while he was in important meetings, when he was spending time with friends, even when he was streaming. Another time, Lando’s Netflix was completely messed up. All the recommendations on his home screen were for kids’ TV and romcoms. This, too, seems innocent enough, but after he had watched Netflix together with Daniel Ricciardo, and his homepage was filled with Cocomelon, The Kissing Booth, Riverdale and other films and series of the same genre, he had to hear about it for years to come. Some other time, Lando’s clothes mysteriously fell apart after only a few hours of wearing them after he’d stayed the night at Max's place at the same time as you. He didn't know how, but he was sure you had something to do with that too.
Although your reactions were very petty and often childish, Lando did admire your perseverance, resourcefulness and creativity. If he wasn’t always the victim of your crimes, he would have loved them, and perhaps even encouraged them, because, let’s be honest, it’s impressive if you can make someone’s clothes fall apart when you’re not even near them.
Lando didn’t really understand why he was always your victim, though. When you were younger, you’d gotten along fine, but as you’d gotten older you’d become meaner to him. He didn't know where things went wrong, and whether it was his fault or you just decided you were done with him. You used to tease each other, yes, but that was always mutual and lighthearted. Neither of you minded the comments that were made because you both knew it was all in good fun. At some point, you just started doing things like these, and Lando still doesn't know what initiated it.
You know exactly when it started, though. Everything was fine until Max and Lando hit puberty. Suddenly, they were ‘too cool’ to hang out with you, and you were excluded from all of their activities. The teasing didn’t really feel like teasing anymore, but rather mean comments that hurt you. Lando never caught onto your change in perception; he thought you still saw it as teasing. But the comments became more rude over time, and it felt like the boys who were your friends once, were now making fun of you.
Like when you were invited to apply for Honours College at your university. You were extremely proud that your grades in your regular courses were good enough to be admitted, and that you’d been invited to apply. But Lando just called you a nerd and laughed before continuing to talk about his own achievements, as if what you’d done was nothing important or impressive.
It wouldn’t have mattered much if it were any other friend of your brother, but Lando was important. You’d known him for about ten years, and he was basically a part of your family. What didn’t help either was that you had developed a small crush on him over the years. By the time he turned twenty, he’d gone through a glow-up. He finally learned how to deal with his curly hair and his face had matured to that of a handsome man. You were attracted to him, but his ugly personality distracted from his looks – most of the time.
Nevertheless, you wanted to impress Lando; to make him like you so he would stop with the off-handed comments. Though you weren’t necessarily good at sports or karting like he was, you excelled academically. You thought by showing your intelligence, you could gain his respect. Unknowingly, it made Lando feel dumb. He’d never even finished secondary school, and you were taking on extra classes in university without any troubles. He reacted differently than he would have liked to, but he thought you’d understand it was a joke.
Another time, you organised a last-minute surprise party for your brother. You had made sure there were decorations, music, food, and most importantly, drinks. You were happy with what you had managed to do in the time available, but your mood significantly worsened when Lando jokingly said you could have put in a little more effort. He was smiling when he said it, but it felt like he was making fun of you; of the amount of effort you had put in to make sure everything was organized as perfectly as possible. Despite his intention to tease, it didn't feel that way to you.
The comment that you believe triggered your best revenge was on Pietra’s birthday. She celebrated her birthday at Max’s apartment, and of course, you’d come to visit and celebrate with her. A few months before her birthday she’d shown you a top she really liked when she was online shopping, but the colour wasn’t right. So, for her birthday, you decided to crochet the top in her favourite colour. It was a bold choice because you didn’t have much experience crocheting, nevertheless, you tried. If she didn’t like it, you would just buy it from the store after all, or get her something else. You thought it looked pretty good, especially for your first try. Regardless, there were some mistakes and uneven shapes.
Pietra was completely surprised and elated with the present, especially when you told her you made it yourself. She knew how much time and effort it probably cost you to make it, but Lando didn't consider that when he commented on the piece.
“You made it yourself? Maybe you should practice a little more, huh?” He said, laughing, before handing it back to P.
You felt the smile drop from your face at the hurtful remark, but Lando was oblivious to the fact he hurt your feelings. Max turned to Lando in shock, while Pietra assured you that she loved the top, and couldn’t wait to wear it. You plastered a smile on your face, but it was obvious (to anyone but Lando) that it was fake. That night, after drinking your feelings away, you tore the seams in Lando’s clothes. Not every single one, but enough so it would fall apart after too much exertion; the punishment should fit the crime.
The anticipatory pleasure at the thought of Lando’s clothes tearing at an inconvenient moment was enough to satisfy you. When you heard about what happened a few days later from Max, you could barely keep your laugh back.
More recently, you had gone clubbing with your brother and his friends. It was an unusual event because your brother didn’t want to see you flirting or dancing with random boys in the club, but this time it was different. He knew you’d been stressed from school, and he’d rather you let loose when he’s there than when he’s not there to keep an eye on you. 
You were dancing with your brother and his friends when a cute boy came up to you, asking if he could buy you a drink. You said yes, of course. You would never refuse a free drink, especially in good, handsome, company, and you wanted to get over your small crush on Lando. You don’t know why or how, but he always seemed ten times hotter at the club, and you needed to get away from him. The longer you stayed near him, the more his pretty face and well-dressed body seemed to distract you from his unattractive personality, and that couldn’t happen. 
You followed the man to the bar and ordered a drink as he flirted with you. His attention was completely focused on you, but you kept getting distracted by the feeling of eyes on your back. It wasn’t until you were dancing in the middle of the large crowd that the feeling faded. You felt free without the supervision of your brother, and without Lando to distract you.
The man pulled your back closer to him, and you let him. You swayed from side to side with your arms in the air while he kissed his way down your neck. It didn’t feel right, but that didn’t matter; it was good enough. You liked the feeling of his lips on your neck and felt yourself get lost in the moment until suddenly there was a tug on your arm.
Your eyes opened in shock as you felt yourself get pulled away. The man you were dancing with didn’t seem to mind much and moved on with another girl standing nearby as you stared at Lando confused and disoriented.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him as you struggled to pull your arm from his firm grip.
“I’m taking you back to the group, you need to be more careful,” he explained.
You scoffed, “What? I was perfectly safe! Let me go!”
“Were you? He seemed untrustworthy,” Lando continued as he pulled you through the club.
“I was just having fun! God, you’re so annoying!” You say with a huff before walking back to your brother.
Lando watched you as you walked away. He didn't want you to dance with that man, or any man for that matter, even though he would never admit it. However, you had misunderstood his intentions. To you it seemed like he was interrupting your fun, cockblocking if you will, and it frustrated you to no end. 
For days to come, you complained to your brother about what happened, insisting that it was none of Lando’s business and he should’ve left you alone. However, your brother grew tired of your complaints really quickly and couldn’t deal with your issues anymore. You’re ongoing dispute with Lando had dragged on for too long and it needed to be resolved, soon, before he went insane. During your next fight, Max would force the two of you to repair your relationship, whether you wanted to or not, because he simply couldn’t take it any longer.
It didn’t take long until your next fight. You were looking at pictures of Lando and Max on Instagram from when they went golfing a few days back when you spotted something. In one of the pictures, Lando was taking a photo with a camera, a camera which he had seemingly ‘borrowed’ from you without your knowledge. 
The second you saw him enter your parents’ house, you targeted him.
“You stole my camera?”
“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” he responded with a grin.
You rolled your eyes.
“Where is it, Lando,” you continued, stepping closer to him.
“I gave it to Max. He was supposed to give it back. He hasn’t yet?” 
“No, he hasn’t. And you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”
Your gaze shifted to Max, who walked in behind Lando.
“Where is it, Max?” 
“In my room somewhere, I think.”
“Can you go grab it? Please?”
The words you said were much kinder than the way you said them. Max sighed before walking up the stairs to his room, you and Lando in tow. He looked around the room, getting on his knees to look under the bed.
“You put my camera under your bed?” You asked angrily.
“I’m not sure if I did, that’s why I’m looking, Y/N.”
Max thought this was the absolute worst. He had gotten himself pulled into one of your arguments again, and now he was being yelled at by you when it wasn’t his fault to begin with. He sighed before getting up. 
“I’ll just go grab my phone for the flashlight,” he said before leaving the room.
You merely nodded in response as you continued to look around the room in search of your camera when you heard the door close, the lock falling in place.
“Max? Did you just lock the door?”
Lando lifted his head from his place on the floor, where he was looking under the dresser, at your insinuation. He quickly changed his position to sit up, staring at the door with you.
“Yes, I have. The two of you need to make up. I won’t let you out until you get along. I can’t handle the two of you fighting anymore. It’s really fucking annoying,” he said through the door.
You looked at Lando in shock, to find him already staring back at you.
“Max, you can’t do this! What the fuck is wrong with you! Let us out!” You yelled as you knocked on the door.
When he didn’t react, you hit the door again, “Max!”
You looked at Lando at the lack of response, “Do something!” You said, but he merely looked at you.
“What am I supposed to do? Knocking the door won’t help. I actually think it might be a good idea for us to talk everything out.”
You looked at Lando in shock. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged while he stared at you, and you shook your head in response.
“I’m not doing this,” you said, pacing around the room while Lando followed you with his eyes as he sat on your brother’s bed, an amused smile on his face.
“I’m leaving,” you said, opening the window.
“What are you doing?” Lando asks, quickly getting up from the bed.
“I’m leaving,” you repeated, sitting on the window sill, throwing one leg outside.
“What have I done to you to make you this angry? I can’t believe you’d rather fall out of a window than talk to me,” Lando frowned.
You let out a choked laugh, mouth open in shock. “Are you serious? You don’t know what you’ve done?” You said as you sat on the window sill, one leg outside the window, the other still on the floor.
“Yes. Please tell me, because I’ve obviously missed a lot if you’re willing to climb out of a window. By the way, stop climbing out of the window!” Lando said, all but running to prevent you from dangling your other leg out of the window too. It was already halfway there, leaving you in a very uncomfortable position when Lando grabbed your leg.
“You’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N!” 
“No, I’m not,” you grunted out as you tried to kick him away. You leaned away from him, losing your grip on the windowsill at the exertion. Lando could barely catch you before you fell out of the window. 
“Fuck, Y/N! I told you to get away from the window!” He yelled as he pulled you away from it and back into the room before quickly closing the window. He stood in front of it as if he was trying to block your way from the window, trying to block your escape.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t be such a baby, I’m fine.” 
“Only because I was holding your leg.”
“If you weren’t holding my leg I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” You stepped closer to him, huffing in defiance. 
Lando sighed, but he didn’t respond. He kept silent while he stared at you, challenging you as you crept closer without breaking eye contact. The tension in the room was palpable, and it only increased the longer you stared at each other. Your breath was shallow from the adrenaline of your near-fall, and your glare was met with a look of annoyance. Lando’s hands hung limply by his sides, the complete opposite of a mere moment ago when he grabbed you with such urgency.
"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Lando's voice was low, strained with frustration.
"Me?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You're the one who's always so demeaning, so... so infuriating!"
"Infuriating?" Lando repeated, scoffing. "Coming from the girl who sabotages my Netflix and sets up kiddie tables for me?"
"You deserved it," you retorted, folding your arms and looking down. "You always mock me and belittle everything I do, every achievement, every effort… Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
Lando’s confidence faltered at your confession. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, stroking your arm softly. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought... I thought we were just joking around, teasing. I didn't realise-"
"Didn't realise what?" you interrupted, eyes brimming with tears. "That your words actually affect me? That I care what you think?"
Lando's hand reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost adoring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know."
You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose as you let the apology sink in. When you opened them again, the regret you saw in his eyes made you believe him. But it was the love and adoration in his gaze that convinced you.
"Lando..." you began, but your voice caught in your throat.
Before you could finish, Lando closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was longing. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in an uncertain kiss.
Your initial surprise was quickly replaced by the warmth spreading through your body. Almost automatically, your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The kiss deepened, filled with your pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings. Your hands slid up Lando's neck and you ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it softly. The sensation of Lando's hands on your body, and his lips against yours felt right, making everything else fade away.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Lando’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and you were certain your eyes showed the same.
“What… what just happened?” you whispered, your voice shaky.
Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now slightly tousled from your fingers. “I don’t know. But it felt… right.”
You swallowed, trying to make sense of all of the emotions running wild inside you. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Lando.”
“I don’t want to,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. 
You laughed softly at the situation, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arms around you straight away. 
“This is not what I expected to happen,” you whispered.
Lando chuckled softly. “Me neither, but it’s not so bad, is it?” 
You snuggled into his neck, sighing contently once you were comfortable. No, it wasn't bad at all.
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jflemings · 3 days
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader
synopsis: your teenage daughter is in love for the first time but her boyfriend is a bad influence on her. when the two of you get into an argument and she says something especially hurtful, jessie snaps
warnings: a lil angst, arguing, past toxic relationship, past abusive relationship, language, talks of past and present drug use
a/n: pls pay attention to the warnings, this was heavier than i originally planned
୧ ‧₊˚ 🪻 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
“he’s a good guy!” your seventeen year old daughter madison shouts at you “you haven’t even tried to get to know him!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes “maybe we’d want to if he didn’t sneak in through your window and and decide that our house was a perfect place to smoke weed. you know the rules”
madison rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, her face settling into a scowl that reminds you all too well of your wife “that was one time”
“the weed or sneaking through the window?” you ask sarcastically, your voice now raising to match hers.
“the weed!”
“and getting high at school, was that one time too?”
a few weeks ago you and jessie had gone up to the school after madison was caught smoking a joint on the grounds. the two of you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing when her principal told you what had happened.
as far as you knew madison had never deliberately done anything that would get her in trouble. all through her life her teachers had sung praises about how easy of a kid she was to teach, how well-behaved and respectful she was to everybody around her. that had been the truth until she started seeing her boyfriend nick.
nick had been expelled from his previous school and had even had a bit of trouble with the law, minor offences at best, but it was something that you and jessie had kept in the back of your minds when you heard through the grape vine that him and madison had begun seeing eachother.
“mum get over it, it’s not like you didn’t do it when you were my age” your daughter shoots back as she plants her hands on the kitchen table in front of her “if anything you were worse! i can’t believe you’re acting all high and mighty after the shit you and your highschool boyfriend got up to”
your eyes go wide and your grip on the top of the wooden dining chair you’re holding tightens “yeah, and you know where that got me”
“nick loves me” she tells you sternly “he wouldn’t treat me like that, and i wouldn’t let him push me around the way you did”
“excuse me?” you seethe “you have no idea what you’re talking about madison”
“you let him hit you! what more is there to kno—”
“your room. now” jessie raises her voice from where she stands at the sink behind you.
madison’s words die in her throat at the sound of jessie’s voice, the colour draining from her face as your wife turns around. “madison” she seethes, her eyes ice cold “i don’t want to see you. get out of my sight”
jessie’s calm but furious words send a chill through your daughter “mum—”
“don’t make me ask you again”
the two of them stare at eachother, jessie’s stern expression never faltering as her eyes bore into your seventeen year old. the tension in the kitchen is so thick that you feel like your throat is closing up and suffocating you. you rub a hand over the base of your neck and collarbones before madison turns and stomps up the stairs to her room, slamming the door to try to make a point.
you don’t dare look at your wife as you sit at the kitchen table, your head falling into your hands as your shoulders slump. jessie sits down in the chair next to you, abandoning the few dishes she was washing when the fight started, and lightly grips your forearm.
she gently pries your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. she runs her thumbs over your knuckles like she would when the two of you were much younger, her back and forth movement soothing your aching heart.
“i didn’t let him hit me” you say quietly “i didn’t lie down and take it”
“i know” jessie assures you, bringing your hands to her mouth and kissing your knuckles “but even if you did, it doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t your fault”
you began dating luke in highschool and stayed with him through your first year and a half at college. the two of you were in the same english class during your junior year, and your teacher had assigned you as partners for a project. you had groaned and moaned about it to your friends at first, claiming that you wouldn’t be able to work with a guy who couldn’t even spell the word orange, but had quickly gotten over it when you saw how charming he was.
luke’s reputaion, much like nick’s, wasn’t the greatest. he had been dealing drugs and would occasionally sell to your friends whenever they wanted to get high, even on school grounds where he ended up getting caught more than once. he didn’t often go to school but if he did, he was always in trouble. starting fights, talking back, skipping class, whatever you could get in trouble for, he did.
over time that didn’t matter to you though. you got caught up in who luke could be, not who he was. you had gotten stern with him after he’d made you do all the work for your project, telling him that you were going to be informing your teacher that you had done the whole project whilst he refused to even turn up to do it. he had brushed you off and claimed that it wasn’t anything new and then spent weeks asking you to go out with him, claiming that although he had made a bad first impression he would be able to prove you wrong if you went out with him.
luke spent weeks asking you out and made promises about how he’ll take you on a real date and how he’ll get his act together if you gave him a real chance to prove himself.
you were young, naive and struggling with your sexuality and eventually, he had worn you down. you told him that if he was serious then he actually had to try and get his act together, not just make empty promises. luke had agreed and taken you out for pizza and a movie, paying for the date and doing all the cliche gentlemanly things.
he walked up to your door instead of just honking at you when he picked you up, introduced himself to your parents, opened your car door, complimented you and kept his hands to himself the whole night. he even settled for a kiss on the cheek when he dropped you off, wearing your lipgloss as a badge of honour as he bounded back to his car and pulled out of your driveway.
things were good for a while. he kept out of trouble and kept his promises to you, always showing you respect and allowing you to take the lead on many things. you lost your virginity to him two months in and he didn’t even boast about it to his friends, even after they called you a prude for not putting out right away.
the false sense of security changed you quickly after that. you got looser and started to smoke and drink with him even outside of parties your peers would throw. he’d sneak you out in the dead of night so the two of you could get high and have sex in the backseat of his beat up car, he would convince you to skip class. you had started dismissing your parents and ditching your friends for him after he got it in your head that the two of you only needed eachother.
luke also started getting more controlling. he wanted to know where you were, who you were with and what you were doing at all times. he’d start fights with boys he thought were hitting on you and then come crawling back when he realised he’s fucked up. he would apologise, promise that it wouldn’t happen again and then bring you small gifts to try to show you that he meant what he was saying.
during your senior year everything only amplified ten times more. you had lost all your friends, your grades were slipping and you and your parents were constantly fighting, it was a miracle you had even gotten into college the way you were behaving and your parents and teachers reminded you of such. it was a relief to you when you found out you got accepted and had quickly informed your boyfriend. he was happy for you at first, telling you that he’ll come visit when he can and that he’s facetime you every night.
the separation bliss only lasted for a little while before luke’s controlling nature came out again. he had the passwords to all your social media and had your location so he knew where you were. you weren’t allowed to follow any boys and he had to know all of your friends.
the first time he put his hands on you was after a party. he’d come to visit for a few days and you took him to some dirty frat that was notorious for having wild parties, you thought that maybe if you got him to loosen up a bit it would give him some peace of mind.
you were, unfortunately, very wrong.
a guy from your social studies class had made a move on you and even though you told him that you had a boyfriend, luke’s rage still overtook him. he drunkenly dragged you back to your dorm yelling and degrading you, calling you horrible names and saying how he knew he couldn’t trust you. when you actually got into your room you told him to shut up and he slapped you across the face, the stinging sensation lingered as the two of you stared at eachother before you silently got ready for bed.
he whispered apologies in your ear as you fell asleep, promising to never lay a hand on you again.
he continued to hit you when he was intoxicated and you learnt to hit him back. the first time you did it you broke his nose and he lied straight through his teeth when you took him to the hospital an hour later.
you lied for him too, even when the nurse pulled you aside and asked if you were safe.
it continued like that for months until your highschool best friend sent you a photo of luke and another girl naked in bed together. you broke up with him over the phone and told him to never contact you again. he cried and cried, pleading and begging you to stay with him until you hung up and blocked him on everything. he tried contacting you for weeks until finally giving up. only when you went back home for the summer did you find out that he had gotten the girl pregnant and that he actually ended up in jail. to this day you still think you’ve never breathed a deeper sigh of relief.
tears fall down your face as jessie takes the time to individually kiss each of your knuckles, the tender act of love fighting the violent memories that swirl in your head.
“you told her about him in confidence, as a way to warn her and keep her safe. she has no right to ever throw it back in your face” the canadian murmurs against your hand “what he did to you was not your fault”
“it was mutually abusive” you mumble as you shake your head “i was in the wrong too”
“he was high off his head most of the time. he could’ve killed you” jessie stresses as she looks into your eyes “you were protecting yourself”
you shut your eyes “jess”
“i know, sorry” she apologises quickly “do you want a cup of tea?”
you nod gratefully and jessie stands and kisses your forehead as you stare at the stairs. the part of you that was a mother longed to go up to your daughter’s room and just talk to her, but the other part of you, the part that kept you going in your hardest times, told you that you needed to stand your ground and not give in. that part was hurt. so, so hurt. you had never imagined that your own daughter could say that to you, angry or not. it was like she had taken the most vulnerable part of you and ripped it out, the feeling of betrayal stinging.
after your cup of tea, you and jessie begin to get ready for bed. she checks in on your younger daughter alex and bids her goodnight before coming back into your bedroom. she swaps out her sleep shirt for a jumper and slides under the covers next to you, pulling you into her and holding you tightly.
she kisses you shoulder lightly and tells you over and over how much she loves you, how much she absolutely adores you, lulling you to sleep with her gentle words and tight hold.
——
the next morning you and jessie rise with the sun. she goes for her morning run as you shower and get ready for work, packing lunches and making breakfast as alex bounds down the stairs. she talks your ear off about what she’s got planned for her day and what she’s planning to do this weekend with her friends. she eats happily and chooses to ignore the solum mood that’s rolling off her older sister as she walks into the kitchen.
madison is quiet as she makes her own coffee and makes herself a plate of bacon and fruit. the two of you share the same space without speaking, the tension from the night before has bled dry and been replaced with an awkward energy that hangs over your head heavily.
you can’t look at her. you can’t look at her because you know can’t tell if you’ll start crying or yelling. it pains you to feel like that towards your own daughter, your first born, the child who made you a mother.
it was even harder because the freckles that dusted her cheeks were all too similar to the ones you had traced a million times over. she was a spitting image of jessie, the two of them looking so similar that there had been times where people had asked you if she was actually yours. her expressions, her mannerisms, everything down the the way she walked was jessie and at times like this, it killed you.
“babe, did you see the morrisons are moving?” jessie asks loudly as she walks in the front door. you hear her take off her shoes and put them on the rack by the door “i wonder if it’s because he got that job in boston”
madison turns at the sound of her mother’s voice, almost expecting to be scolded. jessie merely spares her a glance before continuing “good for them, starting a family and all. hope it goes well”
“so concerned about another family when you’re ignoring your own” madison mumbles under her breath.
your wife pauses and you shut your eyes tightly “madison” you mumble tiredly. you had stupidly thought that maybe she’d sleep the argument off and wake up in a better mood, one that means the four of you start your days civilly.
“what? she didn’t even say hi to me as she walked in!”
alex rolls her eyes “stop being dramatic. she didn’t say hi to me either”
“shut up alex” your oldest hisses “this isn’t about you”
“no, you’re right. it’s about you and your dropkick boyfriend!” alex exclaims, standing and grabbing her plate before walking to the sink “maybe if you pulled your head out of his ass and realised you’re being a bitch to mum, you’d know that!”
you unintentionally slam your coffee cup down onto the counter “alexandra” you say calmly, shaking off the coffee that spilt onto your hand “enough, please. go get ready for school”
jessie, who has been surprisingly quiet, leans against the entry way to the kitchen and watches alex walk out and up to her room. she huffs “you gonna cut the attitude of what” she asks “because i’m sick of your shit. the disrespect isn’t gonna fly in this house and you know it”
madi leans against the counter and kicks her socked feet against the floor. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at either of you, but she stays. jessie takes it as a sign to continue.
“you owe your mother an apology, a genuine apology. you don’t know the full story and you have no right throwing it back in her face the way you did last night” jessie continues, coming off the wall to lean over the kitchen table “maybe if you gave us a reason to like nick we would, but so far all you’ve done is break our rules and disrespect our house. the sneaking out, the drugs, getting into trouble at school — it stops now. all of it.”
your daughter stands there with her hands tucked in between her back and the counter just looking at jessie as she gets an earful, her expressionless face never once faltering under jessie’s hard gaze.
“you won’t know what to do in a situation like that unless you get yourself in that position, and for you to outright say that your mum let that happen to her is appalling, madison, truely” jessie shakes her head “you don’t have the right”
the silence sits heavily over the room, the suffocating feeling from last night once again returning. all you want to do is walk out of the room and go to work so you can distract yourself from the feeling of betrayal that has settled heavily on your heart.
your wife remains unmoving like stone. her face is neutral but her eyes betray her, her own hurt and anger swirling in her brown irises like whirlpools. the image reminds you of when she was still playing football, the determined look she’d get before an important game now moulding onto her face seventeen years later.
madi turns to you, tears welling in her eyes “i’m sorry mum, i’m so sorry” she apologises, still glued to her spot “i regretted it as soon as i thought about it. i should’ve never said it and me being angry isn’t an excuse for bringing it up”
all you can do is meekly nod as you allow her to get out her apology, knowing that if she doesn’t the feelings will sit with her for the rest of the day.
“i was angry, and i thought you guys weren’t hearing me out, and i snapped. i crossed a line that i shouldn’t have even gotten close too and all i did was hurt you” she says breathily as she plays with the hem of her sleep shirt “you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry”
“i can’t tell you i forgive you right now because i don’t, but i hope you know that all we’re doing is trying to look out for you. we want you to be safe, and i want you to learn from my past mistakes” you explain gently, moving next to her to put a hand on her shoulder “you need to reign the attitude in though. no more of the bullshit. it stops now”
she nods quickly “it will, i swear”
“you can’t see nick for now” jessie pipes up again, quickly putting her hand up when madison goes to protest “no, i don’t want to hear it. you crossed a line and you’ll be punished for it”
madison refrains from huffing as her hands fall to her sides “okay” she says quietly
“the trust has to be earned back and when it is then we’ll discuss where we go from there” you reason in a softer tone “you need to pull yourself back into line”
“i will. i promise”
you and jessie share a long, wordless look before you wave madison off. she takes her plate and ducks her head as she passes jessie, going back up the stairs to her room.
jessie let’s a breath go before walking over to you. her arms loop around your waist and yours fall over her shoulders “that’s a step” she whispers into your temple “i still don’t like him”
“neither do i” you whisper “all we can do is hope that she feels safe enough to come to us if she needs to”
“she’s got a good head on her shoulders”
“my parents said the same thing about me” you whisper whilst pulling away “i just hope we’ve done enough”
jessie tilts her head before kissing you on the lips “i think you’re forgetting that we’re still learning how to be parents” she murmurs against you “you need to take a load off”
one of your hands comes up to hold her jaw delicately “we share the load”
she brushes hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear before holding the side of your head securely “i love you” she says “and i am so proud of you”
you kiss her again “i love you more”.
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suashii · 3 days
Text
— 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ injuries ノ pet names ( darlin', sweetheart, doll :3 ) ノ mentions of food
so i wrote about horse riding but. . . know very little about horse riding! i did my best to research but there may be some details i got wrong so apologies in advance!
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“that’s it, pretty girl, nice and easy.”
the horse beneath you sighs and you do the same, relaxation and contentment in the breath you let go of. it’s been a while since you’ve gone riding, a few years at least, but being sat on a saddle with reins in your hands feels as natural as it used to when you’d ride nearly every day of the summer. you’re lucky that your favorite mare—clover—is still healthy enough to take out.
you gently squeeze your legs into clover’s sides in a silent signal for her to move from a trot to a canter. the sequence of her hoof beats effortlessly switches from the two-beat gait to one of three beats and her pace quickens. the wind against your face is stronger now but you welcome the sensation, a small smile making its way to your face.
as a kid, riding was fun and exciting more than anything else but as you’ve grown into an adult, the activity has become something more cathartic—a release of sorts. your stress slips away when you’re on the saddle, lost in the summery breeze. you don’t allow a second for the thoughts that constantly nag at you to linger. all of your focus is granted to clover and the field ahead, to how you feel here and now and how you wish you could feel like this all the time.
unfortunately for you, nothing lasts forever.
you hear the dog before you see her, barking discernible in the distance. clover must, too, her ears pointing back to listen more closely to the sound approaching from behind. as the barking grows louder, the horse’s neck tenses, and it only takes a second more for her to decide that the noise is worth investigating. you’re in alert mode now, too—no, it’s probably closer to panic mode. it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about the horse getting spooked and even then you had your grandpa or parents to rely on to make sure nothing got out of hand.
you don’t have time to even think about what the right thing to do in this situation is before clover spots the dog bounding towards the both of you.
“clove—!” you try to calm her down, to let her know that the dog isn’t a threat that she should be scared of, but it’s far too late. before you can comprehend what’s happening, clover is rearing. the motion combined with your loose hold on the reins is enough to send you flying off the horse’s saddle. a scream is ripped from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut at being in the air, destined to fall.
you hit the ground with an audible thud.
pain courses through your body—your back, your shoulders, your head. everything hurts and hot tears spring to the corners of your eyes but they pool there, refusing to stream down your cheeks. despite all the pain, the growing soreness, you find your mind wandering. where did clover run off to? what was the dog doing out here alone? she rarely leaves the house by herself. someone is yelling, they’re calling your name. is it boothill?
“shit, little lady,” he shakily breathes, “you okay?”
relief washes over you and for a short second, you think that you’ve never been happier to hear the farmhand’s voice. it’s tinged with concern, a characteristic you have yet to see him display—especially for you. it doesn’t stop in his voice either, you can feel it in how he takes a hold of your shoulders, his grip firm but not tight enough to cause you any unnecessary pain.
you take the risk of finally opening your eyes and instead of being met with the sun’s blinding rays, boothill’s face crowds your vision. his eyebrows are pulled together and for once, there’s no smirk or grin playing at his lips. upon seeing that you’re conscious, the tension in boothill’s forehead lessens. “there she is.”
his voice is soft, like if he speaks too loud he’ll break you. though it’s unlike him to be so mindful, you appreciate what you imagine is the temporary change. he opens his mouth to continue but before he can get another word out, the border collie, missy, nudges between the two of you as if she senses something is wrong. boothill shoos her away before turning his attention back to you. “you okay? what happened?”
you think back on the moments that led to this—you laid out on your back in the grass. “missy… i think she scared clover. she threw me off.”
that’s right, you have no idea where she went after being so startled or if she’s okay, at that.
“where is clover?” you dart up into a sitting position, palms against the grass. it’s a bad idea and you face the consequences of it immediately, head throbbing and the dull pain throughout your limbs becoming all the more noticeable. you suck in a sharp breath in response to the discomfort but realize that the pain you’re in doesn’t top your concern for the horse. “is she still around here? i need to go find her.”
“woah, woah, woah, hold your horses.” boothill frowns. he stands up and holds both of his hands out to help you do the same. for once, you don’t think about the underlying meaning of having your hands touch his, you just grab a hold and let him pull you up. you turn your head in every direction you can in search of clover, readying to pick any of them to start walking in. though, you can’t, not with the way boothill is holding your hands hostage. his gray eyes bore into yours. “you aren’t going anywhere but to the hospital.”
“what? no.” you shake your head and try to pull away but boothill doesn’t budge. the longer he holds onto you, the more aware you become of his touch—how warm his hands are and how, even though they’re rough and calloused, his palms are more comforting than you care to admit. “i don’t need a hospital. i’m fine.”
“listen darlin’, people who have just been thrown off horses ain’t known for their good judgment.” he squeezes your hands but then seems to think better of it, loosening his grip but continuing to hold them. he gets his message across though, with the hand squeeze and the almost desperate look in his eyes. you’ve never seen him so uneasy, heard him speak so seriously. his new demeanor has your feet glued to their spot on the ground and your gaze glued to his. “you’re going to the hospital.”
you’re rarely one to jump at the opportunity to agree with boothill but maybe he’s right. you’re running on adrenaline right now and your mind isn’t in the best place—you’re worried about the wrong things. and if the topic is important enough to have boothill practically pleading with you, you should take it just as seriously as he is.
“fine, i’ll go, but you need to find clover before we do.” that came off a little more demanding than you meant it to. you add, “please.”
he clicks his tongue and groans before telling you, “alright, i’ll find your damn horse.”
● ● ●
boothill is a man of his word and tracks down clover, putting her back in the stable before whisking you away to the hospital. the ride there feels like a visit to the doctor itself with the way the farmhand practically interrogates you about your symptoms. he’s concerned but can’t help but laugh when you tell him that he’s exacerbating any head trauma you may have sustained by making you think so hard.
despite your initial resistance to boothill’s insistence on going to the hospital, you’re thankful for his urging. turns out he was right to be worried—you got a concussion.
your helmet helped soften the blow but the physician who explained your diagnosis still recommended a few days off work to rest and recover. it’s not the best news to receive but considering things could have been much worse, you’re grateful to walk away with a relatively minor injury.
and if your doctor had any anxiety about you ignoring his advice, it was misplaced. because boothill has personally made it his responsibility to be sure you get better.
as soon as the two of you arrived back at the house, he steered you into the living room, sat you on the couch, and disappeared into the kitchen with a demand for you to stay put. you’re tempted to argue but your head hurts too much so you cross your arms instead, closing your eyes and resting your head on the couch cushion.
it doesn’t take long for him to return and his hands are full when he does—a glass of water in one, an orange precariously rolling on a plate in the other, and a bottle of pain medication tucked under one of his arms. he sets the drink and pills on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside you, the dip in the cushion enough to make you open your eyes.
upon grabbing your attention, boothill jerks his head in that direction. “take a couple of those.”
you sit up and unscrew the bottle, shaking out two of the pills and popping them in your mouth before taking a few sips of the water he grabbed for you. a beat of silence passes before you speak up. “you know, i could have done all this myself.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he tells you with a grin, hands busy peeling the skin from the orange. it’s still all in one piece. impressive, you think, but you aren’t surprised. it seems like boothill is good at everything he does. “just thought you might enjoy having me at your beck and call.”
you frown. what does he think you are? some princess who needs a servant? “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothin’, darlin’.” he slides the plate of peeled orange slices across the coffee table so you can eat them when you’re ready. he wipes his hands on his jeans before standing up and stuffing them in his pockets.
the farmhand is on his way to the door when he says, “i’m off, but holler for me if you need anything, sweetheart.” 
you never thought you’d see the day you would stop boothill from leaving.
“wait, before you go…” he stops and turns around, eyebrows slightly raised in silent question, urging you to go on. you had more courage to say what was on your mind when he wasn’t looking at you. though, you know it’s only right to let him know that you appreciate all he’s done for you today. so, you turn your gaze to the floor and let it spill out. “thank you for finding clover. and for taking me to the hospital. and for this.” you gesture to the fruit.
there’s a flash of sincerity that passes over his features before that annoying smile makes its way back to his lips. “so you can say thank you.”
you don’t know what kind of response you were expecting, but you should have seen this coming. it’s like he’s hardwired to tease you, even when you’re being genuine. “you can leave now, boothill.”
“yeah, yeah, i’ll get out of your hair.” in contradiction to his words, he stays put. and you can’t find it in you to be upset that he does because the humor has left his face, replaced by earnestness. “but you’re welcome, doll. it was really no trouble.”
he finally takes his leave and when you hear the door close, you let out a frustrated groan and lay your head back on the cushion. that nasty fall must have done more damage than you thought. why else would your heart be working overtime over a simple change of expression?
you shake your head to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts—thoughts of how generous and caring he actually might be—before you think better of the motion. it hurts your head and makes you wonder how long it’ll take before the pain pills kick in. they’ll probably work better if you have something on your stomach.
your eyes fall to the plate boothill left for you.
orange slices should do.
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thank u for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are appreciated -`♡´-
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tojisun · 1 day
Note
how does fwb hockey player simon met reader btw?
at a bar, born from a dare
your friends pulled you out of your dorm, ignoring your murmured grunts about how you have midterms to prepare for, and demanded that you let loose for once. to relax. to take it easy and take a dick, or whatever would help you unwind. you flipped them off but slipped into clothes that you feel pretty in.
and you are. damn you are.
simon doesn’t even know how he caught sight of you, just that one moment he was listening to mactavish talking about a tradition from his old team, and the next he was unable to tear his eyes off you.
you were…oblivious. uninterested, really, if it wasn’t for two of your friends noticing his blatant stares and turning to you to point at him as subtly as they could. of course simon still caught it because he was watching, vague interest exploding.
you turned to him, then, quickly. simon expected the shyness, or the flustered look especially because of his profession, but you had only looked back at him with a confused furrow in your brows and your lips pinched in wonder.
oh, he thought with a sudden giddiness. well, isn’t that something?
.
“jesus, look at that smouldering look,” sandy hisses, jabbing you at your side.
“ow!” you cry out, glaring at her, but she’s not even looking at you, her posture frozen as she looks at somewhere in the crowd.
you turned to your other friends, confused, but it was only theo who was looking back at you. he smiles, amused, and tilts his head to the side as if beckoning you to look.
you do so with a confused tilt of your head, your eyes roving past the loud crowd before finally landing on someone who—you blink in surprise—is already watching you.
oh but he is beautiful. he is big, his bulk obvious even underneath that hoodie, and tan. his eyes are narrowed in quiet scrutiny, but his cheeks are round in his little smile.
you wonder why such an intense man is staring at you like that. like you are all parts wondrous and interesting and just utterly captivating.
“bet you can’t even get him to kiss you tonight,” james teases, before you are jostled by the way he slings his arm around you.
you glare up at him playfully. “you sure about that, kacey?”
james grins. “a hundred percent.”
you shake of his hold on you, teasing anger rippling into quiet annoyance at the patronizing way he lifts his arms up in surrender.
“watch me,” you snarl, rousing from your seat and pointedly ignoring the hoots from your friends.
you’re barely out of hearing range before you hear sandy’s excited, “i can’t believe that’s—”
you don’t get to catch her next words, stomping your way towards the beautiful stranger’s table with your fists balled by your sides as you fake your confidence. his own friends seemed to have picked up on your presence, and you note how their conversation trickled, evanesced, until they’re all watching you now.
god, you want to hurl.
there’s absolutely no reason for these gorgeous men to be friends, let alone to be gracing your stumbling walk of shame—because what else could it be, at this point—with their intense gazes.
you feel inspected. judged.
this is so wrong. i should just turn around. i should just—
but your thoughts screech to a halt because beautiful stranger doesn’t let your doubts fester. he doesn’t let them bloat. instead, he stands from his group, flicks his friend’s ear after hearing whatever it is he must have murmured, and meets you half-way.
“hey,” you say, your voice cracking embarrassingly.
“hey to you too,” he replies and oh wow, his voice descends on you like fucking molasses.
then he grins, cheeky. “was your walk here to invite me out or?”
“please,” you continue to croak out. “unless you want to, uh, to stay?”
“god, no,” he says and devours the remaining space between you two. he raises his arm up in question, and you nod, giving it to him, before feeling the way he tugs you close to his side, his warmth rubbing against your own.
you watch him watch you.
oh this is awkward…
“i’m simon riley,” he finally says after a while.
you say your name in return, giving him a customer service smile. “nice to meet ‘cha.”
simon riley nods slowly, his brows furrowing adorably like he cannot understand what you are—which, honestly, rude, but whatever.
“so, uh. come, let’s?” you chirp.
‘come, let’s’? you scream to yourself. what are you? the pope?
he laughs, endeared anyway. “come, let’s.”
you ignore the mirroring yips from simon’s friends’ table and your own as you two walk out.
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You’re in the middle of eating dinner when Gaz sits next to you.
That’s not exactly a rare occurrence. You work together quite frequently, especially when you were the one deploying drones and fixing the tech. You’ve spent a lot of time talking to each other over the comms and in person, though you always found the comms easier.
Talking and making friends doesn’t come easy which is why you decided to be the tech person.
Tech is easy.
People are not.
Still, you like when he joins you for meal times and hangs out with you in the tech lab even when you don’t speak often.
“Not up for dinning with the others?” He wondered and you looked up with confusion.
You spotted the other 141 sitting down at a different table and you hummed sheepishly.
“Didn’t know you guys were back.” You said and he smiled, causing your chest to warm.
“Just got back. Was hoping you were going to give us a party.”
You giggled and his grin widened.
He always seemed happy when you laughed but you only thought it was because he was the one who started the banger. He was an easy going guy when it came to the people he worked with so he was always pretty relaxed out of the field.
“I’ll buy a cake next time.”
“Doesn’t have to be a good one…but that’s not why I came over here.”
You titled your head and watched as he shifted in his seat. You saw a hint of nervousness behind his eyes despite his smile and your eyebrows knitted together.
You didn’t say anything and he cleared his throat.
“Do you want to get dinner sometime? Somewhere not here?”
You blinked owlishly while your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure if you were reading into it wrong or if Gaz had actually asked you out on a date.
He was always…flirty. He always complimented you and was friendly towards you, sometimes he would lean in close and talk lowly for only you to hear.
He always listened when you spoke about the work that went into making the tech.
But he was friendly with everyone. It had to mean nothing.
“Like a date?” You asked and he lowered his head bashfully.
“Yeah. I wanna go on a date with you sometime.” He gave you soft smile and looked you deep in the eyes.
Dates were a lot different than the usual hangouts. You weren’t sure if you had anything nice to wear or if you’d even be good at it.
You were about to answer when your eyes caught on to movement at a table next to yours.
It was a group of other soldiers you didn’t really interact with but they side eyed you. They glanced away and said something to each other, a few of them stifling their laughter as they glanced at you again.
It was childish and stupid, something that was reminiscent of high school because some people never grew up but it made your body flash with heat.
Suddenly you were all to aware that Gaz was flirting with you and people were watching, and they thought it was funny.
They thought the idea of him with you was funny.
“No.” You said it a lot firmer than you meant to as you looked away from them full of shame.
“Oh…sorry-“
“I’ll see you around.”
You didn’t wait to get up and leave the mess hall. Your don’t want to be around anyone right now, especially Gaz when it seemed like everyone has their eyes on you when he was around.
It was better this way.
A/n: Idk what this is it was random enjoy
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riddlesb1tch · 1 day
Text
Nature's A Bitch
Azriel x reader
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summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.
warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)
~●○°●○°●○~
You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep. 
It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed. 
This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.
Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up. 
By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.
The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room.  His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit. 
“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”
You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you. 
When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit. 
You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers. 
“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you. 
He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion. 
You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now. 
“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep. 
Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed. 
You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him. 
He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber. 
~●○°●○°●○~
You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery. 
Afterwards, you headed out to eat something. 
Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.
“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning. 
“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.  
You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.
“Where’s Az?” you asked. 
“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding. 
Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him. 
You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room. 
You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head. 
“Azriel?” you called into the darkness. 
Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on. 
Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch. 
That was weird. He’d never done that before. 
Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge. 
“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked. 
Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him. 
“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” 
“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?” 
“About me,” he sniffled. 
Your heart audibly cracked. 
“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.” 
He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily. 
Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-
Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you. 
“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage. 
“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned. 
“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.” 
“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!” 
The pain in his voice killed you. 
“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.” 
As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek. 
“Oh Az,” you sighed. 
“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation. 
“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him. 
Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.” 
You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master. 
“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him. 
“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.
tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites
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pitchsidestories · 1 day
Text
one kiss is all it takes II Laura Freigang x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1616
a/n: Hi, it's inspired by the request here, we hope you enjoy it. <3
Home games in Frankfurt were always something special to you.
But then again, you would never complain about away games either. You knew your traveling fans could make any stadium feel like you were playing at home. You liked that it gave you a few days to only focus on the upcoming game and leave your worries back in Frankfurt.
At least you would be focused, if someone would not point their camera at you once again…
You lifted both your hands, trying to shield your face from being photographed.
“Laura, stop it.“, you groaned. Why did she always have to have that stupid camera with her, even on the pre-game walk?
The young midfielder slowly dropped her analog camera and caught up with you: “Come on, it’s just a photo.“
“You always say that and then I see my face all over your instagram photo dumb account!“, you rolled her eyes at her.
Laura shrugged, a slight crease appearing between her eyebrows: “They always look good so I don’t know why you’re complaining.“
“Good? Sure, Freigang.“, you replied while you continued to walk.
“It’s true. Ask the others.“
You sighed reluctantly before turning to Sara Doorsoun who walked right behind you. Knowing her, she probably had been listening to the whole conversation, so you only asked: “Sara, what do you think?“
The German defender smirked slightly: “With the amount of pictures she is taking of you, I’d say Lau has a crush on you.“
You could not stop the involuntary laughter that came out of your mouth: “Good joke, Sara. She does that with Syd and Klara too.“
“Sure.“, Sara answered, unconvinced.
“It’s true. You don’t have to sure me.“, you warned her.
“I’ll sure you until you see it too.“ She gently bumped her shoulder against yours.
“The only thing I see is that Lau is the most annoying person on the team.“, you commented, your gaze fixed on Laura who was already a few steps in front of your again and back to taking photos of her other teammates.
Sara raised one eyebrow as she looked at you: “You think Lau is the most annoying person on the team?“
“Yes.“
The defender grimaced upon your answer: “I feel like you don’t hang out enough with the youngsters.“
“I agree!“, Shekiera Martinez’ voice piped up right next to you. “You’re always the first one to leave any party or team event.“
“That’s not even true!“, you protested.
Nicole Anyomi, looking effortlessly cool as always, gave Sara a look: “Right, maybe Sara is even quicker now that she’s seeing someone again.“
Saras cheeks turned slightly red: “Rude!“
“She’s got a point.“, you agreed with the young striker.
“Maybe.“, Sara slowly admitted.
You felt bad for your friend, so you casually distracted from her: “Also, that’s not the topic right now.“
“Right, this is about Laura and you.”, Sophia Kleinherne reminded your temmates with a mischievous smile on her lips.
“No, this is about Laura being annoying with her stupid photos.”, you rolled your eyes at her. You loved your teammates, but sometimes you wished they would care more about themselves than others, especially in this situation.
“You’d miss something if she would just stop.”, Lara Prašnikar threw in with an amused twinkle in her eyes.  
You let out a frustrated groan. Was this so hard for them to comprehend why you didn’t like what the blonde hobby photographer was doing.
“Not really. I like to keep my social media presence private, but she keeps posting me.”, you tried to explain your thoughts to the fellow players.
“Because she can’t stop thinking about you.”, Sara remarked, through the words her romantic being shone through which annoyed you even more.
“That’s stupid, Sara.”, you scoffed at her. Despite your protest, the sentence of the defender would haunt you through the day. Even when you laid down in the hotel room during the break, before you all would travel to the stadium. Could there be some truth to the older woman’s observation? She was never that far off when it came to love, except when it was her own heart which was so breakable unlike yours.
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pictogangg why are you hiding your face, pretty girl? @y/n'sinstagramaccount
“Hi, y/n, did you see Lauras post?”, you shrieked while Barbara Dunst asked you this, you haven’t heard or seen her come into the room you shared.
“Yes, I did, Baba.”
“Don’t murder her before the game, okay?”, the Austrian joked laughing.
“Okay, but she needs to stop posting me with such captions. I’m serious.”, you sighed, pressing a white pillow to your chest to underline your frustration with Laura.
“Oh, everyone knows it’s just a joke.”, Barabara reassured you in a warm tone.
“I don’t like when people make fun of me.”, your mouth was formed to a pout.
“She’s not making fun of you.”, she disagreed seriously.
“What do you mean?”, you looked at her in honest curiosity.
“It’s just teasing. She’s waiting for a reaction.”, the midfielder told you in a matter-of-factly voice.
“Isn’t me being annoyed reaction enough?”, you wanted to know from your teammate who was a good friend of the woman who loved taking photos of you whenever she could.
“You mean the one where you’re pouting and ignoring her? No.”, Barbara shook her head.
“Oh.”
“But that’s something for after the game. Want to go and grab a coffee from downstairs, before we go to the stadium.”, the Austrian changed the topic cheerfully.
“I do.”, you told her while she was already on the way to the door, leaving no further room to think about what Laura exactly was waiting for.
Frankfurt won their away game with a hard-fought 1:0. You were relieved that you got the three points because it meant that you secured your spot as the third in the league and in the Champions League qualification. From the way your teammates celebrated around you, you could tell they felt the same way.
As you watched on, Lauras face appeared in front of you. A few stray hairs had escaped her slicked back ponytail during the game.
“Y/n? Good game.”
“Thanks.”, you replied politely.
It was clear to you that the midfielder was not yet done talking, so you waited for her to continue.
Laura took a deep breath: “Also I deleted all the pictures of you on my instagram account as you didn't seem to enjoy them.”
This revelation took you by surprise: “All of them?”
“Yes, I thought that's what you wanted all along.”
“I did. But all of that seems a bit… drastic, don't you think?”, you asked, trying to put your confusion into words.
“No. See you, y/n.”, Laura replied and turned around to leave.
Surprised, you watched her for a moment before you called after her: “Laura.”
The midfielder stopped in her tracks, looking back at you: “What?”
You bridged the gap between the two of you. The things your teammates told you were circulating in your brain.
You gathered all your courage and said: “If you like me, just say that.”
Lauras eyes widened for a second before she admitted: “I wanted to kiss you the whole season… when I scored against Barca, at every team event, when we secured the third place today… but I guess I've to accept that you don't feel the same so deleting the pictures was the first step.”
You were taken aback by her reply. There were a million things you wanted to say but what came out first was: “You should have said something instead of taking these stupid photos.”
“I hoped that way you would notice the person behind the camera.” Laura bit her lip subconsciously.
“I only noticed how much I hate being photographed!”
Your teammate studied your face: “I don't get why. You're just so beautiful and interesting. I love capturing you on film.”
You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks: “Just don't, Laura.”
She nodded slowly: “Okay, I‘ll respect that in the future.”
For a moment, you did not know what to say. She looked beautiful, standing in front of you and apologizing.
“And maybe I'll make an exception for you sometimes. Maybe.”
“Wait, what?” Her eyes immediately brightened.
“I do like a few photos to be honest. They carry some memories.”, you admitted with a shrug.
“Do you have any favourites.”, Laura asked in a genuinely interested tone.
“Laura, I don’t want to talk about the stupid photos right now.”, you groaned, hiding the face in your hand.
“What do you want to talk about instead?”, the blonde responded.
“This is why I hate it. You’re always busy with photography and never focus on the moment.”, you told her frustrated, you never felt the gap between you both by two years, you’re being the older more than in this moment.
“I guess there’s a truth to your words, but when all is over, I want to remember everything and pictures help with that.”, she confessed passionately.
“Can you just shut up and kiss me already.”, you begged her, at this point your patience has been gone, leaving only the yearning for the younger player to touch you.
Much to your surprise Laura did stop talking immediately and pressed her lips on yours, giving you a heartfelt kiss making sure you both would never forget the first one. Little did you know that a lot of firsts would follow afterwards. For now, all you and her did was enjoying the moment.
The first kiss would be one of your favourite memories. In your mind it was like a framed picture, you’d come to love to look at especially on bad days.
pictures are from pinterest.
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 days
Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
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„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
 “What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
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chosows · 1 day
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FIRE ON ICE 🏒
Ice hockey Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Hockey—a sport that had taken over his life, and yours. Every day of the past month has been dedicated to his performance for the upcoming game; this game determines their position in the tournament as the rightful victors.
Sukuna takes great pride in his preparations, often neglecting you in the process to ensure his focus is entirely on the game. Whatever the fate may be, he is aware of his absence in the relationship. He swears that given this victory tonight, he will share you a fix of his undivided attention.
Word count: 5.5k
Contains: Smut, established relationship, teasing, public displays of affection (brief), top!Sukuna, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, penetration, brief aftercare
Note: i keep getting hockey edits plastered over my social media feeds and it’s taking over my life, so now it can take over yours too. this is also my first post on tumblr + first oneshot (not my first time writing—i typically prefer my long fics); this may be a little rough
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Saturday, September 14th, 11:00 AM
With a few hours remaining before the match begins, you attempt to settle down in the hotel room they had provided as his accommodation. It was ridiculously fancy, decked out beyond belief; the closet has its own room, something even your apartment lacks. The view was exceptional; you could see the arena from the floor-to-ceiling length windows. The building that would decide the fate of his career could change both of your lives if his team succeeds. Though Sukuna would never admit to his emotions, you could sense the tension and dread growing inside him each passing day. His anger becomes out of control when he is overwhelmed; he struggles to process his thoughts and allows them to overflow, spurting whatever hurtful words they harbour at you. You know he doesn’t mean it, he could never harm you; you’re his good luck charm—his motivation. When tensions are heightened, you figure it’s best to stay out of his way; he regulates alone, any other input will add kinder to his raging flames. Fans have been highly active in the media, small video and picture edits of the team are blowing up—especially the ones of your boyfriend. Herds of women flock to these hockey matches despite admitting they only attend to see the player they deem most attractive. Many of the older men had found your social media accounts through Sukuna and would send you direct messages, expecting you to have the latest scoop on the team. In reality, you pay little to no attention to the logic behind the sport; all you do is support Sukuna with no other thought in your mind. He has attempted to explain the process but it doesn’t register in your brain; a brick wall would take better understanding than you do. Buzzing sounds and your phone vibrates on top of the wooden bedside table, casting your attention to the lit-up phone screen. A Facetime call is coming through, so you quickly do your best to shape up your appearance before answering.
“Hey,” The camera shows Sukuna alone in the locker room, his jersey resting beside him on the bench as he rests his head against the cool metal, “Only three hours left, you excited to see me out there?”
“You know I am; you should see what it’s like on social media. They’re all talking about the game, there’s been a few thousand posts under the team name in an hour.”
“Good, we’re going to give them something to talk about.”
“I can’t wait for this to be over, I feel like I haven’t spent time with you properly in months.”
“I know. It’s been tough, you’ve gotten through it quite well though.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to steal you straight after the game?”
“Don’t know, they might have us do some interviews. I’ll try my best to make it quick.”
“How come you’re not dressed?”
“Started sweating so I took everything off, it’s been a mess over here.” He pats his hand against his abs, then tilts his head slightly to the side to reposition himself more comfortably.
“You’re stressing yourself out again, Sukuna.”
“You think?”
“Give yourself a breather, don’t let it weigh too heavily on your mind. You don’t want to let your emotions mess with you mid-game.”
“That’s easy for you to say, it’s far harder than it looks.”
“I believe in you,” You smile at him through the screen, and his eyes drift to your mouth, “I’ll be there yelling your name, cheering you on louder than everyone else.”
“That’s all I need. I’ll see you soon, baby.”
“I love you, go win us that game.” He takes a final moment to glance at you, the grin on his face visible before he ends the call.
With little time left to spare, you take action and begin dressing accordingly. Since it can get cold being so close to the ice, you’re advised to layer up. You select one of your sweatshirts and a pair of pants that will ideally match the outfit you crafted inside of your mind, praying that it will look better when it’s on your body than it does laid out in front of you. Pairing the sweatshirt with one of Sukuna’s jerseys adds to a cosy yet stylish outfit; you have to look your best since there are chances that the cameras, at some stage, will be on you. It doesn’t have to be formal, but it must be presentable—that’s what Sukuna always tells you. If you wouldn’t wear it for a job interview then you shouldn’t wear it in front of the camera, so you take those words into careful consideration while dolling yourself up. You do your usual makeup routine and style your hair in your preferred way, aiming to keep the casual look to not overdo yourself. To finalise your appearance, you slip on a bobble hat and scarf which matches the colour of the team; your pace increases as you catch the time, sliding into your shoes by the door.
Travel has already been arranged for you; there’s a car waiting outside to take you to the stadium to avoid the hassle of fans. Since you are the girlfriend of a team member, they allow you to enter earlier. Driving through the city spotting civilians wearing the rugby jerseys and merchandise sends sparks of exhilaration through your soul; it’s a thrilling experience and you are more than grateful to be in the position you’re in. Many women would kill to be you; Sukuna is just as dreamy as they make him out to be, but they will never gain the true experience of being his lover. His appearance is what gets them hooked; he’s brooding, standing at around 6’7” tall. Fierce eyes, proportional features, and cocky mannerisms make him the man he is. You can’t blame them for drooling over him, he’s everything any woman could ever want. His career isn’t what you chased him for; you initially had no idea who he was when you first met him at that party. The car comes to a halt and you step out, cluelessly approaching the stadium until you wait for someone to guide you. Sukuna’s personal jersey makes you stand out, fans would never be able to attain one like this; he had signed your name under his, a true limited edition. Two of the event managers spot you and escort you through the back, now passing through the hallways where all the players are situated before the game starts. You attempt to peek around corners in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sukuna before the game, but your luck runs dry.
Front row, in a seat beside the wife of the coach; you are more than familiar with Kenjaku, considering yourselves as friends due to the interactions you share outside of the sports world. Her seat was empty but his jacket was draped over the chair, signalling his return shortly. A few other women were here, though you aren’t acquainted with them; a majority of the men on the team switch their girlfriends far quicker than you can keep up with. Sukuna is teased for his long-term relationship, especially for the fact that he still hasn’t proposed to you. Their words are a nuisance to him, nothing but fodder; when the time is right, he will make his move. Peer pressure could not affect someone who has always stood out amongst the crowd. You settle down and shove your hands into your pockets, eagerly waiting for the fans to begin piling in. The sound elevates when the main doors open, and then the hordes of people flock to their designated areas. Life is what makes the atmosphere of these games so mesmerising, you wonder if Sukuna still feels that awe while on the ice. Kenjaku slips past and takes his wife’s seat momentarily, handing you a pair of gloves Sukuna advised him to give to you.
“Good afternoon, hockey fans!” The commentator blasts out on the speakers, diminishing the build-up of chatter into silence. Kenjaku pleads with you to keep a keen eye on his wife’s personal belongings while he dips back to the player bench, awaiting the arrival of his team.
“Welcome to the final game of the tournament; a great day to show up and support your favourite team!”
On the giant screen, the camera pans to the players exiting backstage. There he was, taking steps onto the ice and gliding as though he were still on land. Sukuna was breathtaking, your eyes are trained on him as though he were a deer you are hunting in the wild. The commentator continued to ramble on with the general procedure of announcing the lineups of both respective teams and introducing the coaches to the fans. You stand up from your seat like the others around you and clap, joining in with the chant before the game officially begins. Sukuna spots you in the crowd, shaking his head at how clueless you appear; he tries his best to suppress the chuckle attempting to burst out—he can’t shame you for trying. He settles down, now shifting his mindset to the main goal—securing this game as a victory. This team may cause a problem, but he’s confident enough that this win is in their hands.
“Good luck to both teams, may the game commence!” The voice fades out and then both teams launch towards the puck, battling for ownership.
It’s hard to make out what’s happening as all you can see is the mass amounts of various players whizzing past your eyes. Sukuna is determined to take the lead, so he does. He manoeuvres his way, breaking the opposing team’s line of defence and sending the puck directly to another one of his teammates, only to have it stolen back almost instantly. This battle has been ongoing for the past ten minutes, and Sukuna’s fury is beginning to bubble up. His team are unable to maintain security and control of the puck, rendering his efforts useless. You glance over at Kenjaku near the team bench and notice him holding his head in his hands; his team is falling apart in front of his eyes, and there is little hope for them to obtain a goal anytime soon.
Crashing, cursing, and tumbling are all that have happened so far. Sukuna’s performance is becoming more aggressive, nudging players out of the way as though they were ragdolls and sending them crashing into the barrier. Kenjaku’s screams register over the rowdy crowd, urging him to stop before the referee targets him for fault. Frenzied turmoil had possessed him as he turned a deaf ear, now taking the game into his own hands. He secured the puck and denied making the same mistake he did before; he kept the puck close and eased his way through the obstacles, acting as crowd control amongst all the other players. They were struggling to catch up to him as he approached the opposing goal, their goalkeeper springing to action as he saw Sukuna heading his way—rapidly. That sight alone is enough to make anyone begin to falter, and before he knew it, Sukuna had made his shot, sending the puck straight into the goal through the space left unprotected. The crowd roars as the commentator announces Sukuna’s name and number as the unassisted goal scorer. He sticks his tongue out as the camera captures his face, skating backwards to return to his original position.
Shortly after, the opposing team had matched the scores just before the first intermission commenced. While other members of his team were escorted off, he swiftly made his way over to you, banging his hands against the barrier to grab your attention. You run over to him from your seat, catching a glimpse of Kenjaku scolding him in the background. Sukuna points at you and you cock your head aside, confused as to what he could be wanting to say. You point at yourself and he nods, then he changes the positioning of his finger to himself. You copy his motions and he bobs his head with approval, a knowing smirk painting its way onto his face. He bites his lip and spins in place, rolling his eyes back to make a dirty innuendo. The people behind you were puzzled at the interaction taking place in front of them and you motioned for him to cut it out, hearing his laughter descend as he made his way to catch back up with the members of the team. Before he disappears to the locker room, he points at the area where his heart resides and then back at you, leaving you with a stupidly big smile presented as your current expression. Sukuna deserves this win more than anybody else on their team does.
Behind the scenes, Kenjaku devised a new approach. Since Sukuna is the fastest and most offensive on the ice, he’s their best shot at scoring, meaning the opposing team will have their members on high defence around him. With the idea shared of deceiving them with who their main shooter could be, the other team will not know exactly who to target or when. Sukuna is going to remain off the radar until he’s required to strike, a simple approach that fools typically fall for. While the discussion dies down, they are shortly announced to arrive back on the ice to continue the game with an equal score of 1:1 for both teams.
A new energy radiates and overtakes the rink, Sukuna’s body language is shifting and his eyes darkening. As soon as they began, someone had already shoved into him. In turn, Sukuna manages to subtly take him to the floor, avoiding a penalty since he cannot be pinned for the fault. Several of the opposing team are hounding him, hardly allowing him any free movement even when he isn’t in possession of the puck. It’s incredibly hard to play a game when you are boxed in, especially in a sport where movement plays a key factor in success. In a sudden outburst, Sukuna shifts his position and sends two people into the barrier. The referee intervenes and pulls them to the side, a possible penalty on Sukuna’s behalf. The chants increase in volume as the game picks up pace, yet you can hear the sound of Sukuna’s voice overpowering the chaos unfolding around him. He was furious, battling the violent thoughts plaguing his mind. If he wasn’t so strong-willed, he would’ve lost control of his hands and swung the hockey stick against the skulls of the pests who have been harassing him. Upon final decision, he was sent to the penalty box and was unable to participate in the last two minutes of the period.
No goals were scored as the game shifted to the second intermission; there were zero rational thoughts left inside Sukuna’s mind, he was a walking hazard. While he was exiting the rink, he swung his stick against the metal pole and snapped it in two, tossing the remains aside as he stormed past the rest of the team. Kenjaku informed the group that he would temporarily bench Sukuna since it would give him time to recollect and focus his attention back on the game—and he had no other option but to agree with this decision. Sweat was rolling down his face and the veins on his hands were threatening to burst; riling himself up like this is never a position he wishes to put himself in, especially in important scenarios such as this. When intermission finished, Sukuna had switched out with a member of the bench and sat there bouncing his leg, a new hockey stick by his side. You scoot to the end of the row and shout over to him, catching his attention by pure miracle. Though in a terrible state of mind, the sight of you had twisted his lips up into a subtle smile. He raises his hand to wave until he’s suddenly switched out, now making his way back to the ice. There was an opening and he didn’t hesitate to take it, he checked the puck away from the imbecile navigating it and was making his way swiftly to the goal. Rather than taking the shot, he passed the puck to Kashimo; their secret weapon. While they rushed to Sukuna, Kashimo had taken the opportunity to score the goal, adding a point to the team on the leaderboard. Sukuna grins widely as the other team realises they had been outsmarted, relishing in their failure.
Kenjaku stands up from his seat and claps his hands while the camera zooms in on him and splits screens between Kashimo and Sukuna. The final intermission had arrived with a score of 2:1; the last round would determine the winner, and at this rate, this would leave their team victorious. While they’re in the locker room, you send Sukuna a text. He won’t be able to read it until the game is finished, but you feel it’s only fair to let him know how proud of him you are. Watching him out there while understanding how hard he works is rewarding, especially when it goes in his favour—he puts his soul into this sport; no one could work harder than him. Sukuna is a legend in the making, a fire that will only burn brighter. You’ll be there throwing gasoline into the flames, making sure he doesn’t die out.
5:20 PM
2:1, the final score was announced and the stadium celebrated the victory of Sukuna’s team. It warmed your heart to see the wide variety of individuals supporting him; from children to elders, Sukuna was able to please all of his fans on this special day. Most importantly, he had pleased you. You watched as they placed a medal around his neck and cheered his name, holding your hands together in the shape of a heart. When the award ceremony had concluded, many fans were flocking out of the stadium, preparing to camp outside and say their farewells to the players. When the arena had cleared out, most players went straight through to the back. Sukuna strides over to you, dropping his helmet while you wrap your arms around him. He had lifted you off of your feet and squeezed you, almost crushing you with the sheer dumb strength he harbours. You gaze up at him and pout, an unspoken demand for a kiss. Who would he be to deny you? He pressed your back against the glass barrier and held you there until the sound of a voice behind caused him to break away, placing a final peck on your cheek before he turned to the source.
“You’re in public, you know?” Kenjaku points at his tongue, mimicking a gag as he picks his jacket up. “You need to behave, you had me on the ropes that entire game. Are you serious, Sukuna? I can’t keep—”
“We won, didn’t we?” Sukuna takes your hand into his, though there was no skin-to-skin contact you could still feel the heat he radiates.
“Don’t be arrogant, and don’t make a total fool out of yourself in the interview. I’ll be in the room, I’ll make sure I’m sitting right beside you to keep you in place.”
“I can’t believe you’re the same man who gets shitface drunk every weekend; I’ve babysat your kids and you still hound me.”
“I’m a man of many wonders—endless possibilities. Come on, this interview is about to start,” Kenjaku turns away to head through the back, then addresses you in his final words, “You can come too, they have seats behind the cameras.”
Sukuna waits until Kenjaku is out of sight before he pulls out the puck used for the match. He closes your hands over it and links your arm with his, dragging you towards the room where the interview will take place. Walking through the hallways filled with pictures of local legends is bone-chilling; perhaps Sukuna will be on one of these walls someday. When you reach the interview room, you take your seat and beam at him, proud to see him amongst his members with medals hanging from their necks.
8:30 PM
Left on the back wheel of the team, you had become burned out from their excessive amount of celebratory activities. Interviews, photographs, autograph signing, and the list goes on. You were forgotten about, struggling to remain patient for much longer; all you want to do is go back to the hotel room and sleep. Sukuna steps out of the locker in his casual attire, pushing you out the exit doors with him to the cab he booked. It was silent on the way home—in your case. You had dozed off while he muttered about the game, unintentionally exhausted from so much hockey. You don’t intend to be disrespectful, but when it’s the only thing you hear constantly for a month, your brain begins shutting down at the trigger word—hockey. You’re surprised you are able to escape it in your dreams; it’s a mosquito you cannot kill, nipping at you and draining your energy.
Thump. Your eyes flutter open as the mattress sways. Sukuna had carried you to the room and had fully prepared himself for the evening. His hair is still damp and his skin is clammy, your hand had intertwined with his the second you recognised his presence. It had been a long day for both of you—more so him, you were just the spectator. You scoot closer to him and place your chin on his shoulder, coming into contact with his eyes that possess a devilish glint.
“You tired? It must be so much work cheering me on.” His nail scratches under your chin, causing you to scrunch up from the sensation.
“It is, it’s a lot of work. Unpaid too.”
“How should I pay you?” It was a rhetorical question—he already had his answer, he just wanted to hear it from you.
“Some attention would be nice, we haven’t cuddled properly since last month. You always come home late and—” Before you can finish your complaint, he lifts you and places you on top of his chest. His hands rest on the small of your back, sliding under your sweatshirt.
“Poor you,” He coos, his fingers tracing lines down your skin the lower his hands venture, “You must feel so neglected.”
“I forgot what your touch feels like.” You mumble into his bare skin, the vibration of his raspy laugh causing you to stiffen up.
“Has it been that long? Or are you just that desperate?” His thumb toys with your lips, your breath fanning his hands while he waits for you to reply, “What one of the two is it?”
“Both. It’s been three weeks since we had sex, I started to believe you fell out of love with me. You wouldn’t even kiss me properly.”
“I couldn’t afford any distractions, you know that.”
“But it’s not fair, Sukuna. You can’t just kick me off to the side, I won’t distract you—I promise. It’s been horrible for me, I hate it when you have to play these big games.”
“Didn’t know it was that bad for you, I never meant to make you feel like shit. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Sukuna pushes you off of him and looms over you, unbuttoning your pants, “I’ll make it all better, you shouldn’t have negative thoughts in that pretty little head.”
“Should be me, I’d take it all from you if I could. You’ve been there for me through it all, my most loyal supporter. My number one girl.” He tugs your pants down, revealing your panties and the wet patch that had formed in them.
“You’re—”
“Turning you on? I can see that.” He pokes his finger on the patch and your legs clamp shut, tramping him in between them.
“—Making me flustered! Slow down—” You’re cut off when his lips graze your inner thigh, planting pecks down the strips of exposed flesh.
His teeth attach to the thin fabric and slide your panties down slowly, the heat from his breath interacting with your cold skin causing goosebumps to rise. When he drags them past your knees, he slings them off to the side and spreads your legs, keeping your most vulnerable region in view for his prying eyes. You’re there in his jersey, eyes unable to meet him and hands gripping the sheets—he had almost forgotten how pleasant this view could be. He lowers his head and his hair brushes against you, smearing some of the moisture it withheld from his shower. Rather than diving straight in, his index finger slips between your folds and coaxes your clit with slick. You were far too easy—getting this soaked when he had hardly even touched you. You must’ve been fantasising about this moment all day. While he could give you what you want, he decides to drag it out further, testing your limits. Your patience has already broken and the weak pressure he is applying to your clit isn’t enough to stimulate you, it’s just enough to make you aware of his presence.
“Are you grinding against my fingers? You’re so needy,” He cackles at your desperate attempts to receive satisfaction and pulls his fingers away, slipping them into his mouth and indulging in your taste, “You’ll wait until I’m ready.”
“Please don’t do this to me, it’s been so long—don’t you think I deserve it?”
“I do think you deserve it, which is exactly why I’ll give it to you in a way you won’t forget. You’ll get what you want if you are patient, can you do that for me?” His hands knead your thighs, and you nod in response, “Good.”
Dominance came naturally to Sukuna, in both his hobbies and his sex life. It’s what he knows best, and is certainly what he excels at. He makes you weak just by the touch of a few fingers, melting slowly as his buttery words raise you to the pedestal he sits you on. Held so highly in his life only to be belittled by his condescending words—humiliating you and taunting you for becoming so aroused. You find your gaze fixed on his heaving chest, eyes daring to lower and come in contact with his highly defined abs. Sukuna’s physique resembles a hand-carved statue, chiselled with all the fine details a true creative could only dream of. He lowers his face and stares up at you, his eyes fluttering gently making him appear innocent–you both know that’s not the case. Kisses are littered on your abdomen, and your body wriggles, silently begging for more. Your body was heating up and your stomach was in knots, anticipating the moment he finally made contact with your clit. Sensing the urgency, he drags his tongue between your folds, sending a shudder through your core. Since he started, he can’t turn back–he’s hooked on your taste, and he’s starved; a luxury he had forced himself to miss out on. He got lost quickly, but you had been far gone for much longer than he had. Your hands are tangled in his ashy, strawberry-coloured hair, fingers wrapping around strands doing their best to bring him closer. Sukuna’s tongue was toying with your clit, repeating the same circular motions. Wriggling due to the pleasure didn’t affect him, he had you locked in a position where you couldn’t move. Breathy moans fill the atmosphere as you near your climax, though your release is yet to be granted as he pulls away. Your slick is smeared across his lips, his cheeks possessing a hardly noticeable twinge of pink from his lack of oxygen intake.
“I’ve missed you, you know?” He wipes his face clean with his forearm and drags you into a longing kiss, his eyes flickering with adoration as he distances himself, “Do you think I stop thinking about you when we aren’t together?”
“I missed you more.” He pins your arms behind your head, a sultry smirk twisting his lips up. All you can do is gawk at how heavenly he looks; he’s an angel with the personality of a devil, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
“That’s impossible,” Using one hand to restrain you, his other ventures down to his boxers, stroking his dick through the fabric, “You have no idea how much you mean to me—I don’t think you fully understand the lengths I’d go for you.”
That’s the truth—you don’t know how far he’d go for you, and you’re unsure if you want to find out. His struggles with regulating his fury place him in treacherous territory; there is no doubt in your mind that he could take a life just by using his bare hands, there are times when even he is unaware of the extent his strength can reach. With his boxers now discarded, he lines his tip up with your entrance, teasing your hole while he prepares to thrust in. Though he is completely bare, your top half remains covered with his jersey. In a sudden snap of his hips, he forces his way in, your plush walls massaging the length of his dick. Allowing you time to adjust, he slowly inched his way deeper, being careful not to overstimulate you. All of his six and a half inches being consumed by you, taking him in nicely. Getting you wet is no struggle, and it certainly helps with the penetration; your body has adjusted to his girth and size, similar to a lock and key mechanism.
Thrust after thrust; sweat was pouring from Sukuna. The bed would creak at any given movement and the two of you were far from quiet, giving this floor of the hotel an insight into what you were doing. His groans would cause knots to tie in your stomach, your walls clenching around him only adding to the pleasure he receives. You are beautiful when you are sprawled out like this for him, muttering and whispering his name under your breath, assuming he wouldn’t hear it—but he heard everything. He heard how good you said it felt, he heard you chanting his name as though you were handing yourself over to him, he also heard those pleas for a release. It was nearing your breaking point, your climax had been toyed with, but now it is threatening to reach its peak.
“Tell me everything that’s been on your mind, let it all out.” Sukuna continues to wind his hips in those rugged motions, hitting sweet spots you weren’t aware existed. It took you a while to process his words, too fucked out to think straight.
“I hate how— How you distance yourself from me—” Your mouth hangs open while whines roll from your tongue, head lolling back and your eyes closing over, “And I hate how you never listen— You always— It’s always what you think is best.”
“And?”
“I wish that you’d just— That you’d—” You can’t fight your release and you cum, allowing yourself to come loose. Your breath hitches as he continues, chasing his own release.
“That I’d what?”
“I just want you to myself, ‘Kuna.” A tear slips from your eye as your overstimulation turns into a second orgasm; the presence of his lips on yours catches you off guard, resulting in you moaning in his mouth.
What once started strong becomes sloppy; his forehead is pushed against your shoulder while his groans become silent, the huffs of his breath now creating more sound. His core tightened as he pumped his cum deep inside you, your hands rubbing up and down his back while he lay down. All of the pent-up tension from his mind and body dissipated, replaced by the lust shared with you. His teeth nip at the skin on your neck, nuzzling his head further into the crook to latch on better. Your nails had etched their mark into his flesh, and his teeth had imprinted their shape into yours—a fair exchange.
“I am all yours. Every day during this break will be dedicated to you.”
“It’s the worst feeling knowing other women wish they were yours.” That’s the biggest con of having a boyfriend known in the media; it drives you insane seeing what others say about him online—especially when they find a way to criticise you for being the one he chose to settle for.
“None of them could ever compare to you; they’re spiteful. Who wouldn’t be? You’re a gorgeous young woman who is successful. They have to take their anger out on the people who are better than them. You have everything they will never obtain.” He squeezes your hand, intertwining your fingers; a symbol of remaining linked for eternity.
“I have you. I think I’ll keep you forever.” You plant a kiss on his forehead, watching the smile spread across his face; the shift in his tone was noticeable, his voice huskier than it was before.
“Who said that was a choice? You’re never leaving my side.”
261 notes · View notes
jromanoff · 2 days
Text
Study Break II R. George
Pairing: student!Regina George x law student!Reader
Warning(s): Reader not eating enough
Authors note: I’m in the middle of uni exams this week so I wrote a little something to indulge myself :)
Summary: College!AU - Regina is worried about your study habits and decides to intervene.
Word count: 1.6k
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Regina leaned against the door frame, watching you hunched over your textbooks, completely engrossed in your studies. The thick civil code books were laying open on the side, several coloured tabs sticking out to keep track of the laws you needed to use for your upcoming exams. Regina thought it almost looked like a rainbow at this point. That was the only pretty thing about the stuff on your desk though, it looked like a bomb exploded with the mess you’ve made.
"Babe, can you take a break? I miss spending time with you," Regina pouted, hoping to draw your attention away from the books in front of you. Her pout usually did the trick. She wanted to have some quality time with you since you haven’t been spending time with her these past few days, too engrossed with your studies. You even stopped having dinner with her.
You glanced up briefly, your brow furrowed in concentration. "Sorry Gina, I really need to focus. These exams are important."
Regina sighed dramatically, crossing her arms as she walked closer to you. Did you just really resist her pout? "You've been studying nonstop for days. Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?"
You paused, looking at Regina with concern. "I know, but I need to do well in this. It's important for my future. I don’t want to be a failure."
Regina softened, her concern for you overriding her desire for attention. Regina almost laughed at this realisation, her High School-self could never. "I understand, but I'm worried about you. You need to take care of yourself too."
You reached out to take Regina's hand, caressing it. "I appreciate your concern, babe. But I really need to study now, I’m fine.” you said with a reassuring smile, concentrating back on your books.
Regina frowned and decided she needed to change her approach, this was clearly not working. So instead of complaining or outing her concerns, Regina tried to engage in a conversation with you.
“What are you studying, anyways?” Regina curiously inquired as she saw her girlfriend so intensely focused.
She never asked you about the content of your studies before, because she probably wouldn’t understand it. She, on the other hand, always excitedly rambled to you about whatever she learned that day. From fashion designers to fashion history, Regina shared it all. You didn’t mind it, though. Seeing your girlfriend so excited about her studies made you happy too and extra knowledge never hurt anyone. It was a nice contrast to your law studies.
“Legal philosophy” you replied curtly.
“Sounds boring” Regina remarked. Her efforts were met with a dismissive attitude from you, causing Regina to frown in disappointment. But Regina wouldn’t let this deter her from trying again.
“What are you reading about now, then?” Regina asked once again, looking over your shoulder at the book you were currently reading.
“The Case of the Speluncean Explorers” you responded, perplexed by Regina’s sudden interest in your ‘boring’ law studies. Especially after she just complained about not getting any attention from you.
“The what explorers?”
“The Speluncean Explorers,” you explained, slightly exasperated. “It’s a fictional judgement where five judges with different opinions shed their light on a fictional case. Five explorers got stuck in a cave and eventually ran out of food so… they agreed to eat one person so the other four could survive. They decided who it should be by throwing a dice and when the remaining four explorers were rescued they got a murder charge. I really need to study now if you don’t mind.” You hoped this elaborate answer would satisfy Regina’s curiosity so you could refocus on your studies.
When Regina kept silent after your explanation you thought you managed to fend off your girlfriend for the time being. Wrong.
Regina felt increasingly ignored by your continued focus on studying and your dismissive attitude towards her. So she decided to retort to an old tactic – a kiss to divert your attention. Despite being in college now and attempting to leave her manipulative ways behind, Regina deemed this situation an emergency. You would definitely cave in after a kiss.
Regina put her fingers under your chin, turning your face towards her. Then, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to yours.
That sudden display of affection caught you off guard, but as Regina deepened the kiss your resistance immediately faded away. The tension in your shoulders eased as you gave into your girlfriend. Regina gently took the book you were holding from you.
“Regina, no. I need to study” you pulled away and protested, but Regina just kissed you again.
“What was that for, anyway?” you questioned her as you finally broke apart.
“So you’d be focused on something else than your studies. I deserve some attention too, you know? Not only your stupid books” Regina smirked.
You narrowed your eyes at her “I know what you’re trying to do” you told her and turned back to your desk. As you attempted to pick up your books once more, Regina shot you an ice cold glare. "If you don't put that book down right now... I swear to god you'll regret it," she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument. Regina rarely used that glare on you, but when she did? She was serious about it. Her glare and tone of voice caused you to immediately put your book back down, holding your hands up in surrender.
"That's what I thought," Regina asserted, a smirk playing on her lips. "Now, you’re cleaning up this mess of books and notebooks on this desk first," she declared, taking charge of the situation and asserting her authority over the chaotic study environment you created over the last week. How you could even study in this mess was a mystery to Regina.
Reluctantly, you set aside your textbooks and notes as Regina took charge of making dinner in the meantime, bustling about the kitchen.
The aroma of home-cooked food soon filled the air, causing a low rumble to come from your stomach. You quickly finished cleaning up your stuff and walked to the kitchen where Regina stood behind the stove.
“That smells delicious” you told your girlfriend as you embraced her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“It does, huh? Can you set the table for me, please?” Regina requested.
“Of course” you replied, giving Regina a kiss on the cheek before removing yourself from her. You set the table for dinner and sat down, waiting for Regina and the food.
As Regina set the steaming hot plates of food on the table, you immediately started eating before Regina herself had even the chance to get seated.
Regina observed you quickly shoving down the food she made with concern. It's a confirmation of her suspicions – you hadn’t been eating well all week, too consumed by your studies to the point you forgot to eat. With a pointed look, Regina breaks the silence. “I'm definitely keeping a closer eye on you when the next exam period comes up. You're not taking care of yourself properly. You’re never skipping dinner with me again in an exam period," Regina said, her gaze unwavering.
You frowned at her and attempted to deflect her concern. “You really don't need to, that's asking too much of you." you insisted
But Regina's resolve remains unyielding. "I don't care what you think. I'm keeping an eye on you. And that's final," she declares, her words leaving no room for argument. With a sigh you accept defeat, knowing that Regina can’t be swayed once she has her mind set on something.
That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since high school: Regina always gets what she wants.
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After dinner, you cleared the table and did the dishes together. Then, Regina insisted on cuddling with you.
Entering your room, you see Regina is already situated on the bed. She already removed her makeup and changed into something more comfortable.
"Come here, you," Regina said, opening her arms wide with a playful smile. "I need some cuddles."
You hesitated for a moment before relenting, changing into comfier clothes and joining your girlfriend in bed. As your head hit the silk pillow (that Regina bought for you, because according to her it’s better for your hair) you sighed in content. "I guess I could use some cuddles too," you admitted softly, smiling back at your girlfriend.
Regina pulled you close, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “Now, I know you’re tired so I’ll let you go to sleep in a bit, but you do need to promise me to give me attention tomorrow.” she said, softly stroking your hair.
“I promise, my love” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to Regina’s forehead.
Eventually exhaustion takes hold of you both, and you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace.
The next day you would spend no time on your studies, but only on Regina. You were determined to make it up to her. You even took her out on a spontaneous date to one of the high end restaurants she loved to make up for the lack of attention you gave her the past week. Afterwards the two of you went shopping and then cuddled for the remainder of the evening.
And your exams? Passed with flying colours.
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iaeriy · 2 days
Text
noiseless • jude bellingham.
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summary: remaining silent can be difficult, but can your boyfriend too? (based on this request!!)
word count: 1.3k!!!
warning: smut, cockwarming, unprotected sex, jude choosing video games over u sighs.
note: NOT PROOFREAD , i apologize if this was short. I couldn’t think as much of nothing and i just thought it’d be better like how it is 😞, if it seems rush or anything i apologize..again. anyways, hope y’all enjoy!💗
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You don’t know how you ended up like this, but here you were. Legs wrapped around judes torso, butt naked as your juices were leaking and drenched onto judes dick. You currently had your face burried in his neck, attempting to hold in any noise. “Judeeee..” you whispered, he slapped your ass. “shut up..” he mouthed. you sighed silently, nibbling his neck. You rested your head on his shoulder, lips facing away now from his neck. Minutes ago, you were in the sofa begging for judes attention or something to do together, watch a movie and cuddle, take a nap together or possibly get something to eat.
30 minutes went by..you were gripping onto his arm. Every movement he did from getting upset, or a tiny thing that made him rage. He’d move up, precisely his dick would squelch and slight thrust up, it was difficult for you to stay quiet. You were clearly just wanting some type of affection, clearly that failed. Although some of it was mostly your idea, you thought of being needy and being touchy would make him stop playing video games and he’d ignore everything but you—jude wouldn’t even let you get off his lap, one little move and immediately a tight grip held onto your hip. Heaven, must’ve been for jude, it felt amazing to him having your walls squelching and pooling around his cock doing nothing.
You sighed, whimpering attempting not to move at all. jude looked at you, scoffing. “Who are you banging now..” his friend laughed, you were able to hear the voice call. You whimpered burrying your face into his neck, chewing on your bottom lip holding in your noises. Jude chuckled, squeezing your ass. You held back a moan, breathing shakily.
Well, This was not fair at all..
After an hour, sitting on judes cock. Juices soaking down to his shorts, nearly staining. He decided to end the voice call. He just couldn’t stand the teasing from his friends, especially the way they kept saying y/n this or y/n that or anything with your name. He couldn’t stand the way your noises were probably only visible to his friends and them only and not you. He just couldn’t stand it. Jude had looked down, bucking his hips up to your g-spot causing you to moan loudly. You covered your mouth, squelching around him again. You felt your cheeks warm up, “j-jude! y-your mic-“ you said, whining in between your moans, eyes rolling back. Finally after waiting something happens. Jude pulled his headset off, he smirked to himself at the mess he just made you, listening to your moans. “hung up on them baby.”
He looked at you, pulling your hair making you look at him. You moaned uncontrollably, he desperately yet hungrily kissed you deeply. You kissed back as he whimpers into your mouth, gripping onto your waist. “You’re fault for what happened.” He said, you kissed him shutting him up. He slipped his tongue in between, the two of you sloppily, desperately kissing. Your hands cupping his cheeks, “i-it i-isn’t..y-you made m-me wait f-for-ah!” You moaned louder, he held onto your ass thrusting deeper into you causing the chair to squeak louder than the two of you. “fuuuuck, that’s more like it.” He chuckled, nibbled your ear lobe as he moaned into your ear. You whimpered, moaning onto his lips. You threw your head back, jolting forward within every thrust.
He moaned feeling you everywhere, you leaned closer to him wrapping your arms around him. He smirked before getting up, his cock slipping out of you. Your mouth dropping and whining at the loss of contact, he carried you to the room, he threw you on the bed. He got rid of his shorts and shirt, you took your shirt off. He grabbed your legs pulling you closer, you giggled bitting your lip as he lowered his head down. Kissing and bitting onto your perky tits, your hands resting next to your head flat on the mattress. He towered himslef above you looking down at you, your legs next to his waist as he pushed himself in. Thrusting slowly, you held onto his bicep. He leaned down, kissing you again. The two of you whimpering into each others mouth.
He fondled with you boob, loosing his patience as he lifted your hips up. Your lower back in the air, he thrusted up into your g-spot again. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as your head fell forward making eye contact with jude, you bit your lip in between your moans. You gripped onto the sheets, skin smacking against your thighs. He moaned deeply, hand still gripped onto your waist as you jolted forward. He burried his face into your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin pounding into your g-spot. You had nothing left to say, nothing but judes name. You moaned out judes name over and over, again.
He moaned into your ear, your legs slightly expanding wanting to feel him in deeper. It drove him crazy for how you were right now, he gripped onto your ass as you whined. He looked at you, as you looked at him. You wrapped your arms around him, biting on your lip attempting to hold back your sounds. “babe, let them out, please..” he said, you whined, shaking your head. “That’s okay..maybe i’ll get it out of you.” He said, thrusting harder, causing you to moan louder. He smirked, caging your head with his hands. “Y-You..k-know..y-you’re..mmhngh..a-a..t-tease..r-right..” You cried out with every hard thrust, he chuckled at your stutter. “Wanna repeat that again?” He said chuckling, you whined, looking away he grabbed your chin making you look at him.
He kissed your forehead, thrusting harder into you. His cock brushing against your cervix, your eyes rolling back as he groaned feeling you tighten. You arched your back onto him, forehead resting on his shoulder. You moaned uncontrollably, holding onto his bicep. You clenched around him again, he groaned in your ear. His thrusts become sloppier, indicating he was close himself. He groaned, thrusting quicker into your g-spot. Your vision going white, “j-judeee!” You screamed out.
your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Leaving you gripping onto the sheets.
jude pulled out of you, stroking himself as spurts of his cum landed on your tummy. you breathed heavily looking down. your thighs trembling, jude picked up your cum with his fingers. You giggled looking at him, as you sat down on your knees. He held your chin, you licked his fingers, sucking every little droplet of his cum off. He smiled, kissing your forehead. You fell on the bed, trying to catch your breath and calm yourself down. You knew by tomorrow you’d be sore due to the slight roughness, jude looked down at you caressing your waist. “Did i hurt you?” He said, you turned your head to look at him, shaking your head. “n-no, it’s okay..” you said, he smiled.
You laid down against the pillows, he laid next to you. Fingers running up and down your leg. “sooo..you want to sleep with it in you..” he said, your eyes widened. “Jude!” You smacked his arm, he smiled. “I promise i won’t do anything..” he said, you looked at him.
“..That’s what you said the first time..” you said, he pulled your leg. You winced in pain, “i’m sorry..” he kissed your cheek, you smiled. He let your leg rest over his waist, you were slowly starting to fall asleep. He covered both of you with the blanket, you were already under the sheets. He slipped himself in again causing you to whimper from the over sensitivity, he kissed your forehead. You moved closer, resting your head on his chest. He kissed your forehead, as he played around with your hair.
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irlvelvette · 2 days
Note
u should doooo bunny!reader x vox 🤭🔮
🔮anon is coming for everyone atp but i have the most perfect idea for this one !!
warnings: bunny!reader is sensitive, vox . . . is not the most reliable with being nice 24/7, not proofread, vox refers to reader as baby, valentino is his own warning, bunny is short as hell
“i’m just saying that the little conejita would make a ton of money” vox just blinked at valentino after that sentence. you were sitting on vox’s lap during one of the vee’s meetings. you didn’t much care for the conversations and you didn’t really pay attention to half the things they said. then again vox also distracted you anyway he could especially because when velvette was late, like today, valentino’s attention always was turned to you.
“you’re not making my girlfriend a porn star val.” your boyfriend sighed, you barely were able to be within a couple feet of valentino let alone be able to work with him. especially due to the fact that if you weren’t currently sitting on your boyfriends lap you would probably be freaking out over the fact you’re even in the same room as valentino.
valentino got up and moved from his seat on the other side of the board room table to one next to you and vox. he leaned over so he could be eye level with you, taking your attention away from whatever movie vox put on your phone to entertain you. “conejita, wouldn’t you like to be a star?” you just stared back at the moth before turning your gaze to vox which caused valentino to let out a sigh.
“see! she won’t even answer me she’s too worried about what her little boyfriend wants to answer” vox let out a sigh at this. “val. i don’t control her.” valentino thought for a moment before sitting back up and smirking at vox. “then hand her over. she obviously won’t answer without your opinion if she’s still with you.” vox rolled his eyes before sighing again. “val-” the moth immediately cut him off. “vox you know i’m right.”
vox made eye contact with you as you were still staring at him before picking you up and putting you on valentino’s lap which immediately caused you to reach back out for vox. valentino used one set of hands to move you so you looked at him and another set to hold your hips. “look at me little conejita.”
you looked at valentino, but not for long as your vision started to get blurry due to tears welling up in your eyes. valentino sighed “i forgot how much of a cry baby this little conejita is.” he picked you up and set u down on your feet right in front of vox. who expected you to immediately climb back onto his lap for comfort. but to his surprise when he reached out to you he was met with the sound of a thump.
vox did research on bunnies when he first started going out with you. one of the main things he learned is that when a bunny thumps it’s basically a big “fuck you”. he was glad you never did it to him before so you can imagine his surprise when you thump at him for the first time.
“baby.” your boyfriend said lowly. valentino pissed him off half the time to begin with, but now you thumping at him too? he tried to remain calm but his patience was thinning. “the little conejita has never thumped at me.” he was right, you never would dare thump at valentino, he scared you too much. vox scared you at times too, but you were still upset about him just giving you to valentino that you thumped at him again.
vox didn’t know what to do at this point, you were usually his well behaved little bunny that usually never caused trouble, he’s only needed to punish you once and that’s because he had caught you chatting with the radio demon. so he was quite surprised to see his baby bunny thumping at him. especially when he’s trying to calm down the crying that was still coming from you.
he took a deep breath before picking up your much smaller figure and bringing you back onto his lap. “hey.” he said in a stern but still comforting tone, it wasn’t until he noticed you not paying any attention to him that he got a little louder. “hey!” you immediately looked up at him sniffling.
he sighed before looking over at his business partner and signaling him to leave. “i’m trying to be nice to you here baby, but you’re making it hard when you’re not even paying attention to me.” he said it in his more comforting tone trying not to work you up more as he hates the sight of you crying. “what’s with the thumping? you don’t do that with me i thought?”
you shook your head trying to wipe away your tears but more just came flooding down afterwards “you gave me to valentino. i don’t like valentino.” he let out another sigh before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him. “i know baby, but the thumping is not okay. not with me okay? you wanna thump you can thump at valentino all you want.”
you shook your head again, why couldn’t he understand you were scared and he gave you to the reason you were so scared? vox stood up and set you down next to his chair. you looked up at him confused before you heard a thump. which caused you to just stand there confused.
“see baby? it’s not so fun to be thumped at hmm?” you shook your head at his comment immediately moving to try and get comfort again. grabbing onto his waist as it was level to your chest due to the height difference. vox sat back down and pulled you back onto his lap. “we done thumping now?” you nodded and vox immediately pulled you closer so that your head laid against his chest. “good because i have to deal with valentino being pissy all the time i don’t need my baby thumping at me all the time to add onto that.”
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globalrebrand · 2 days
Text
Jealousy
Warnings: Petty behavior, light not sfw themes, but soooo minimal.
Leona Kingscholar
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When he's jealous
Tries to play it off.
You really think he gives a shit who you talk to? He has better things to do than to worry about where you are and who you're hanging out with.
If that sounded like bullshit to you, that's because it is.
Involuntary grunts whenever you bring up someone who he's feels threatens your relationship in anyway.
Leona: Where were you this afternoon?
You: Oh, I wanted to shopping so Vil and I-
Leona: *low growl*
You: Excuse me?
Leona: Tch- Whatever.
Starts tagging along to thing he really doesn't want to go to or do because he wants to be close keep an eye on you. So next time you go shopping with Vil, Leona's sitting out front with the bags. And you know what, take his card and pay for all your own things, don't let Vil treat you.
Doesn't communicate what makes him unhappy, expects you to read his mind and ultimately stop hanging out with people that aren't him, or at least people he approves of. Leona doesn't like Malleus or Vil because he finds them threatening to your relationship.
Leona's appeased easily enough though. Just make it obvious that he's your number one and he'll settle down and stop being so grumpy. Tell him that there's no way you would even consider anyone else. Tell him you think he's perfect the way he is and Leona just might start purring.
When you're jealous
Oh sweet precious herbivore. You have nothing to worry about. Probably. But he’s entirely tooo flattered.
Thankfully Leona's too lazy to cheat so you really have nothing worry about. It’s already a lot of work keeping you happy, so Leona isn’t about to try twice as hard to keep a side piece.
Doesn’t even remotely entertain the attention of others. Like it’s actually so hard to turn his head. He just wants to sleep, preferably next to his herbivore, please and thank you.
He does however think your jealousy is hot.
“Hey herbivore, why don’t you show ‘em who I belong to.”
Wants you to mark your territory. Take him a little rough, leave hickeys, scratch his back. He’ll remark that it’s troublesome but won’t make any effort to cover anything up. Wears them as badges of honor.
So no he wasn't texting anyone else, or making plans with another person, or being particularly sneaky. He just wants to play chess on his phone and cuddle with you.
Cater Diamond
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When he's jealous
The WORST. Turns into the world’s pettiest bitch. It’s like you’ve already dumped him.
Pouts. Sulks. Whines.
Get's a little childish. "Wouldn't you rather go hangout with your future boyfriend. 😒"
When you tell him he's being ridiculous he gets upset and defensive.
Give's cling wrap a run for its money. Starts hanging on your in public, especially around the person in question.
He was already shameless about PDA in public but when his hand starts creeping down towards your ass, while you make out on a park bench you have to give him a proper scolding. And know Cater, he's timed it perfectly so that the interloper in your relationship is passing by for class just at the right time to catch your heady make out session.
Other people likely intervene before Cater has a mature discussion with you about his jealousy because he's likely become a bit insufferable complaining about you and or this other person/people taking up your time and or attention to his friends.
Trey probably approaches you like, "uh, can you please tell Cater you're not gonna leave him for whoever?" Because he's getting on everyone's nerves with the complaining and comparing of social media profiles. Trey will make you a cake, whatever you want, just shut him up.
When you're jealous
Hot. Like soooo hot.
Makes you jealous on purpose because he finds the way you get a little possessive hot.
If you don't get jealous, its much the same as part one. He gets pouty and whiny, about how you don't really love him if you're just letting him get brazenly felt up by some random person. (He's never actually been groped but you know your man is prone to hyperbole)
When you're jealous he wants you to take control, but him in his place, gently, but passionately please.
"Sorry my partner says no," Loudly turns the other person down. Proclaims he's a taken man and that you wouldn't approve of him hanging out with them.
"But even if I wasn't taken, the answer would still be no." He's rude. And you should scold him for it.
But also praise him because look at what a good boyfriend he is, turning down his other suitors for you.
Cater thinks he's due for a little reward, don't you think?
Vil Schoenheit
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When he's jealous
Watch the fuck out. Tartarus hath no fury like a Vil scorned.
He gets better about it with time, but not really. If you make Vil jealous he's going to directly confront the perceived threat to your relationship to assess the danger level.
"Hello my love, who's this?" He fights the urge to call the offender a "potato."
Gets moody with you. How could you even entertain the thought of another with the most beautiful man in the world warming your bed.
Now Vil won't get jealous of every other attractive person you come across (unless he knows for a fact this person has eyes for you.) He's not nearly that insecure but when random people start cutting into your time with him that's what he'll really make a stink about.
He's already so busy and his time is so limited, so when you go off with anyone when he has free time to be with you, he gets pissed.
Vil swears he not trying to monopolize your time but can't you see them when he's busy? He carved out this time especially for you, he believes he's owed your attention.
This is where he'll get especially petty. Oh you were going out with friends this afternoon, well he just happened to have booked a surprise spa day for you both, but he supposes he can cancel. He doesn't know when he'll get another day off but if you'd really rather go with your friends. Do not under any circumstance go with your friend if you want to keep your boyfriend
And while he's petty Vil will be very vocal about his disapproval, he won't leave you to read his mind. However, if after multiple conversations about not spending time with him on his limited days off, your relationship will be in jeopardy.
Don't make him repeat himself.
When you're jealous
Oh you sweet little darling. You're jealous of all of this attention from adoring fans who would happily destroy the life you've built together just for the chance to sniff his socks? Don't be silly. Vil would never entertain the thought of another when he has you. He's far too loyal and principled, he'll tell you if there's a problem in your relationship long before he would ever be compelled to cheat.
But also, while he'll say these sweet placating words "you're the only one for me," "how could I even look at another when I have you etc."
However don't you dare stop getting jealous. You'll have to pace it out. Too jealous and Vil will get annoyed and likely want to leave the relationship, but also know Vil is entirely that bitch who gets turned on by your jealousy.
He's a little toxic in his belief that your jealousy means you love him, that the passion in your relationship is still alive and burning hot. So if you're not acting jealously in circumstances where it absolutely makes sense for you to feel jealous he gets concerned. What do you mean you trust him to respect the fidelity of your relationship? Are you cheating? When did you stop caring about him?
"I don't like the way they look at you. Don't they understand that you're mine..."
Wrap your arms around him, nuzzle into his chest and say those words to Vil and he'll promptly need to adjust his slacks. Please show him how he's yours. He's not very fond of being submissive but if you're passionately displaying your affection while pleading for his attention he'll avoid exerting control...too much. Cover him in kisses, don't mark him-, but feel free to get a little handsy. He'll allow it just this once.
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n0tamused · 3 days
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A/n: Not a one-shot but crack hcs! Hope you enjoy. I don't often write crack stuff but it is really fun when I get to it :)
Content: Dr. Ratio x Reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, no pronouns used, just crack overall, short and sweet
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-While Ratio can have lots of patience for people of all walks of life, he has found a challenge within you and your form of intellect.. It would be arguably the first time Ratio has found himself in some form of a stumped state due to some of your questionable actions or phrases. He just has to sit back and wait for a moment until his brain sets itself back in place and he can think straight again
-He often scolds you, but no matter what he says it's like your brain translates it to something completely different, and even if his words are harsh you take it as if he complimented you and praised you to no end?
-Man is confused. To say the least
-Once he caught you losing nearly all your money against Aventurine, stating “third time's the charm”. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW POKER?! Even Aventurine was laughing along in all the confusion one can show without being odd, and he had to say he wouldn’t have taken the money,  this was just a ‘friendly-fire’ sort of thing, he says. Well that’s lucky for you, considering you had rent and food to pay for!
-He drags you away while you jest about it and also apologize too, because he looks like he’ll explode
-Ratio may or may have not hit the top of your head with his codex..once or twice, but it’s all in good spirits - trust
-He really does mean well, especially if he seriously sees you struggling with something. He won’t hand you the answers on a silver platter unless it's a last resort sort of thing, but he would prefer to guide you to the answer, basically making you think outside the box and such until you arrive at the answer yourself. He is always open to advice and keeps an open mind, and with that he could entertain an idea you may have, yes.. even the more... silly ones. But also be ready to be shut down immediately for the absurd ideas you may bring up. He doesn't waste time nor does he like or plan to.
-Dr. Ratio is the voice of reason in your life, and he's there to reel you back to the ground when you may be getting ideas for something that would not benefit you, or god forbid - if you plan to do something risky that could harm you or your reputation.
-He often goes out of his way to make sure you’re doing things on schedule, so waking you up, sending you a message to eat (no crisps, go eat something good, something healthy), he’d send you articles about things he remembers interest you, papers on your favored topics
-A more tender thing he does is do your hair. It’s a simple thing yet it means a lot to him and you. Just a few minutes of quiet as his fingers thread or comb through your hair, brushing through it with meticulous moves, making sure he doesn’t pull or yank. 
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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pandorem · 3 days
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Saw somewhere that some people found Crystal unsympathetic because she tended to make things about herself, and I’m super caught between “Crystal before she lost her memories was a certified Mean Girl and so her being a little self centred and such is actually pretty good characterization and now she’s starting to grow out of it” and “Crystal went through a lot of shit with David and is in a really scary situation with having her memories stolen from her, I don’t find her nearly as selfish/self centred as some are implying and she absolutely deserves to be freaking out about what happened to her.���
Mostly I’m landing on the middle ground of that one post: “ ‘we need more flawed female characters’ you can’t even handle one traumatized teenage girl”
(Especially since Edwin can ALSO be myopic/self-centred about his trauma and we do not give him shit for it)
Don’t know how prevalent this is and don’t really feel up to looking into it, it will just make me tired, so hopefully I’m just talking about a small trend or blowing things out of proportion, but like. We love Crystal in this house and she and Edwin are mirrors in some ways and that includes their flaws
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