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#but now i see what his type of cake is
lady-banana · 1 month
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Miyoshi-sensei's art for Liam's birthday 💞🌹🎂
On X
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months
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YOU MAKE THAT POST AND DON'T SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON EVERYONE'S OPINION ON SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG???
I MEAN IT'S SUCH A NICHE FUCKING TOPIC LMAO I DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WOULD CARE
but anyway here's the Egregiously Simplified version of Everyone Is Forced To Play Ten Routes Of Shadow The Hedgehog And Has To Give Their Opinion Afterwards
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#snap chats#i already hear someone going 'the fuck you mean mine is number one shadow the hedgehog defender' YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME#at first i do think he'd be like 'what the fuck' but then going through all of shadows routes. or at least ten to get the final story#and seeing the constant betrayal and inability to trust others he faced yet still ultimately persevering due to his promise to maria#i think bro would be moved.. just a little.. would he think shadow a bit headassed for that considering what the humans did to him#Of Course but also its evident that shadows clearly taking things into his own hands now- as righteous of a mission as it is#despite the persistent attempted influence by everyone around him. shadows a complicated TRAGEDY he'd be moved#mine's artsy like that..... gotta go before i get shot ive said insane things before but this one'll take the cake me thinks#im not explaining everyone else mine's just felt like the one i NEEDED to explain lest i look more insane than usual#06 daigo's purely a Shadow Angst enjoyer. he understands shadow and he's wallowing in the misery of his backstory#majima's weird to categorize cause he definitely can be like Lmao The Fuck and/or just play the game chaotically#and then the aspects of identity come in and on the outside he'll be like 'bro its not that deep' but on the inside its like#Damn He Just Like Me Fr. i think. idk i dont study majima leave me alone im not making ANOTHER One Chara Exclusive category#i said i wouldnt explain anyone else and here i am explaining shut UP im gonna go eat#im not looking at this anymore bye#FORCING myself to leave cause i really will just end up typing essays on bitches perceiving shadow LMAOO
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hoshigray · 3 days
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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
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THUD!
“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”
The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.
“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 
If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!
His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 
This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.
He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.
You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 
However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 
You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?
You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”
The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”
“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”
“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”
“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”
You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”
He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.
You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”
Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.
He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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libertyybellls · 4 months
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KISS IT OFF ME !
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pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader
summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?
contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.
a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.
she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.
“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.
it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.
but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.
sounds so very simple doesn’t it?
once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?
you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.
your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.
it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.
feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.
he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.
it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.
he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.
you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.
“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.
“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”
he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.
you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”
it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.
“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”
you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”
it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”
-
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codtrashsammy · 19 days
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Happy Cake Day — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
contents: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff.
''C'mon, open the door, Simon.'' Your knuckles connect to his door again, this time with more insistence than before.
''Dude, I can hear you breathing. Open up.'' Your arms are getting tired from holding the cake, relief filling your soul as he finally opens his door halfway before you slam your shoulder against it, successfully pushing him out of the way as you break into his quarters.
''What are you on about?'' He asks with a quiet scoff, closing the door behind him as he rubs his shoulder, the force of the door being slammed against him causing a little more pain than he'd like to admit.
''I made you a cake. And before you start— I know your birthday is redacted on your file. Broke into the old man's office to find it.'' He raises an eyebrow at this, a small smile tugging on his lips. He knows you're not lying— you're definitely the type to break into Price's office to access his file.
''I don't need a—'' You interrupt him by putting your frosting-stained finger against his lips, effectively shutting him up for now.
''Shh. Look, I drew the team.'' You point to the cake on his desk and he leans closer, looking down at the cake and biting his lip to resist the urge to burst out laughing. He takes a deep breath, collecting himself before speaking.
''This one looks like a fuckin' nonce.'' He points to the drawing of Gaz you made with frosting... if you could even call it a drawing.
''Soap looks like a deformed carrot.'' He bites his lip again to resist the urge to laugh, brown eyes focused on the cake, the only indicator that it's Soap is the messy mohawk.
''Why are our drawings holding hands?'' He inquires in a teasing tone, knowing exactly why.
''No reason.'' You retort, grinning up at him. The drawings are ugly on purpose— that's what you tell yourself to preserve some pride.
''Is that— is that the old man?'' He's barely holding it together, each drawing more comical than the other. The Price drawing is giant, holding all of the stick figures in his massive arms, his bucket hat almost comically big compared to his head.
''Mhm.'' You confirm, bursting out laughing the moment you see him try his best to hold in his laugh, not wanting to hurt or offend you in any way despite having ripped your frosting drawings a new one.
''Looks nice.'' He compliments, trying to be nice. Truth to be told, it's not a bad cake, it's just... the drawings that give it... personality. His comment earns him a finger full of frosting to the nose, a groan leaving his lips.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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cw: jjk manga spoilers (up to 221), blood, sword fights heh + note: it's finally here, and somehow it's worse than shibuya!
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“is he gonna be mad?”
“satoru?” you snort lightly, taking another bite of your frozen yogurt. “he’s just going to ask if you won. he might try to take the sequel of that new book set you got as punishment— but i’ll see what i can do.” 
across the table, megumi huffs, leaning back into the plush booth. you’d picked him up early from school today, the reason being yet another suspension. his second since he’d started the school year. you suppose that’s the reason for his sullen disposition and existential crisis. 
“am i a bad person?”
you glance up at him in acknowledgement, but take a moment before answering. he stirs the frozen yogurt around in its cup, looking rather glum.
there’s a delicate way of going about these types of things. children (especially teenagers) are complicated creatures. they’re still at their most malleable, your words and actions shaping their very future.
“i don’t think you’re a bad person, megumi,” you answer softly, setting your spoon down. 
“but i…i keep doing bad stuff,” he argues dejectedly. “and— and i was mean to tsumiki—”
“hey. no one’s born wanting to do bad things,” you tell him. “and when they do…it’s usually more complicated than we think. there are bad situations where sometimes we have to do bad things. even if we don’t want to. even if we’re not proud of them.” 
“but how do you know that i’m not?” he asks again, and your heart aches. 
“because i know you,” you smile. “i’ve known you for eight years, megumi. yeah, i think you could afford to try using your words instead of your fists once in a while, and be a little nicer to your sister…but i know everything you do comes from a good place.”
megumi doesn’t reply, staring out the window with that pensive frown of his. all you can do is wonder if you and satoru have done right by him. if you’re doing right by him now. (such is the life of a parent, you suppose.)
all you can do is hope. 
“hey,” you grin, holding your hand out to him. “promise me something?”
_____
you stumble backwards, narrowly avoiding being gutted by a sword. gasping, your fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, the material sliced right above the small, almost imperceptible bump of your stomach. 
your megumi would never hurt you. your megumi, your sweet, gentle boy who still muttered the song about bunny ears as he tied his shoes. who always offered his sister the last bite of cake, even though you knew he wanted it for himself. who cried the first time his shikigami were injured in battle. 
but this isn’t megumi.
you barely dodge the blade again, ducking and sending your demon dogs out to slow him down as you sprint down the alley. your heart shatters at the sound of a high-pitched whine, but you can’t stop, you can’t look back—
“going somewhere?”
you skid to a stop in front of him, staggering back as quickly as you can. 
megumi— no, sukuna stands in front of you now, holding a sword you’d taught his vessel how to make, how to use. 
“please,” you beg, thinking of tsumiki’s body a few blocks away. thinking of gojo in the prison realm. you can’t lose anyone else today. “please let him go.”
“i don’t think so,” he grins, sick and twisted as he slowly makes his way towards you. “if only he’d unlocked his full potential sooner. if only you had.” 
“he’s just a child.” you say, voice trembling. you look around. there’s no use in running. he’s gotten much too strong.
but you’re not ready to die either.
he wasn’t patient, lunging first and taking the offense. it’s a struggle to meet him at every swing, deflecting blows that send tremors down the sword’s point of impact and reverberate through your arms. 
playing defence is the smart move. you’d wait for an opening or a drop in his own defence. then your goal would be to disarm him and attempt to grant yourself an advantage. 
(in theory, at least.)
when your swords lock once more, he forces them to the side, kicking you square in the chest. the impact knocks you onto your back. before you can get up, he’s on top of you, driving his sword into your shoulder.
the pain is so blinding, so white-hot and tortuous that you almost immediately pass out when he pulls it free and tosses it out of your reach. 
sukuna is in your face now, lips peeled back into a smirk as he laughs, the top of his finger slowly dragging down your face.
“putting you down now would be letting this brat off too easy. doing it slowly, however—”
“get off her.”
your heart skips a beat. that voice. 
there’s a flash of recognition in megumi’s eyes. just a for a second. 
“satoru?” 
“is that any way to treat the person who washed your underwear for almost ten years?” he tsks, hands in his pockets as he steps into the alley, quite literally kicking the king of curses off of you.
he sweeps you off the floor as gently as possible, your stomach flipping at the familiar sensation of being teleported.
you’re not in the alley anymore, you’re up on the roof of a building. as soon as satoru sets you on your feet, you look up, studying his face. the eyes you love so much stare back at you. 
the emotions you’d kept bottled up since he’d been gone pour out at once. proof of your heartache, anger, pain, and loneliness spilling over your lash line.
suddenly there’s too much space between you and you tentatively take a step forward. 
“it’s you,” you breathe. “it’s really you.” 
he says your name softly, and arms you’d longed for envelop you. you feel safe, if only for a moment.
“you need to get to ieiri,” he whispers, a hand cupping your cheek gently. “go. i’ll stop him.”
you both close your eyes, as if the words hurt.
_____
“promise me you’ll always be good.” 
megumi sighs, but places his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.
“i’ll see what i can do.”
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!
— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.
A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.
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Captain “Price” John:
The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?
Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.
John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.
John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?
He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.
And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all. 
When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.
Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?
John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.
Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all. 
After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.
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Simon “Ghost” Riley
Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you. 
A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.
He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage. 
At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings. 
Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake. 
Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed. 
When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race. 
Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too. 
Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you. 
The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out. 
Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point. 
Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food. 
Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement. 
Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection. 
All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?
Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love. 
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage. 
He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love. 
Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows. 
He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window. 
His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no? 
Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes? 
Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face. 
He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse. 
Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon. 
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© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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seumyo · 24 days
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 6:34
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do u want to celebrate your bday, mr. great explosion murder god dynamight
Bakugou stared at your message for a while. He sits by his study desk, supposedly taking a break from his homework. His brows are contorted to one of contemplation, a pout on his lips as he types in his reply—rather quickly, too.
hell no
(ꃋᴖꃋ)
He shook his head. Bakugou turns off his phone and sets it to the side. 
If anything, he hates and genuinely gets upset with surprises, especially when celebrating his birthday. He doesn’t get it; why people celebrate another year closer to death. When he was younger, he remembered loving the attention, the gifts, and the praise. 
But now that he’s older, he’d much rather just spend time by himself. Maybe cook himself a dish or two to celebrate, but that’s it. He doesn’t need anything grand—not anymore, at the very least.
Then again, why would you be asking him a question like that as if you weren’t on the other side of Japan? He thinks it’s childish; besides, celebrating his birthday is a complete waste of time. He’s a hero-in-training, and so are you, so he’d rather use that time of celebration to either train or study (and he has the audacity to call other people nerds).
Bakugou decides to go to school earlier than normal because he doesn’t want to give those idiots (his classmates) time to even prepare for a surprise party (yes, Kaminari’s horrible at whispering and keeping secrets) for him in the dorms (and also the classroom; it just slipped from the tip of Kirishima’s tongue).
A hand holds onto his shoulder, and by instinct, he moves away from the contact and turns to the person with a scowl. If he weren’t alert, he would’ve blown said person to bits, and yet the moment he hears that familiar laugh, all raised defenses are lowered and his tense shoulders relax.
“What the fuck?”
“Surprise! I knew you’d come to school early,” you greet him with a bear hug. Bakugou scowls as he tries to push you away.
“Kats, I missed you so much! It’s been forever since we last saw each other—”
“How the hell did you get here?”
You grinned, ignoring his non-serious threats of exploding you to the skies. “Come on, Grouchy. I don’t have much time, y’know?” You dragged Bakugou toward one of the private lounge areas within the grounds of U.A., and he’s surprised you knew how to navigate your way around the campus. “Don’t worry, I asked for a bit of help from Midoriya since he’s the only one I know aside from you that goes to this school.”
“That damned—”
“Don’t get mad at him! Getting mad would make you wrinkle quicker, and don’t furrow your brows; I think I’m seeing wrinkled lines in your forehead.”
“You—”
“There’s no time for scolding me, Kats!” You held up a bento cake to him. 
He notices the two little boxes of what he assumed would be his presents behind you and the lighter you used to light up the candle. He thinks it’s wasteful when he could’ve just lit it up himself with his Quirk. Then again, he couldn’t really do anything anymore because what’s done is done.
The cake itself was thoughtful. Frosted with light orange frosting, decked out with what he assumed were mini explosions made out of fondant at the sides and a little lettering that said, ��hbd dynamight,” with a little spark of red, orange, and black at the end of the sentence. 
Bakugou looks back on it, and the realization dawns on him.
This is the first time someone—aside from his parents—made the effort to give him a cake for his birthday. 
“Do you want me to sing happy birthday?” You ask when he doesn’t immediately blow out the candle.
“Fuck, no.” He rolled his eyes and took a moment before doing so.
“You didn’t have to do all this, nerd.”
“But I wanted to.”
That made Bakugou smile, even if it was only a little. “Thanks.”
“You’re seventeen now, and that is one year older than being a senior citizen,” he chuckled, “and as always, don’t smoke, drink, or do anything that would get your hero license revoked. Lessen the frown and turn it upside down; remember that I’m an awesome friend for remembering your favorite cake flavor even if you don’t eat it often—and finally, happy birthday, Kats.”
His heart is beating too quickly as he tries to play it cool by nodding to everything you said. He’s missed this, though he’d rather die than tell you that, knowing damn well you would never let him live it down.
“Whatever, you sap.” Bakugou stuck out his tongue, and you did as well.
“Well— shit, I have to go before I miss the next train.”
“Don’t have morning classes, then? Shiketsu’s a four-hour commute from here.”
“Uh huh. Remember—”
“Yeah, yeah. Cake goes in the fridge if I don’t want to eat it, and send you a video of me opening your gift. I hope it’s not ass, like last year’s mug with our picture on it.”
“Hey–! It was a very good picture,” you replied. “I have one too, just so you know,” you chuckled after finishing packing everything up. “Because it’s cool to match mugs. Really good way to strengthen our relationship. It makes you think of me whenever you have your morning coffee or tea.”
He snorts. “As if, nerd.”
Bakugou watches you leave, but not before seeing you stumble against your feet, which made him cackle obnoxiously at your misery. With the bento cake and gifts in either of his hands, he thinks this is one of his best birthdays yet. And spending it with you, even if it were only for a short moment, is surprisingly fulfilling.
He may start to enjoy surprises if they were this pleasant.
Now he just has to worry about getting back to the dorms without being seen by any of the idiots that would pester him about where he got his cake and gifts from.
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SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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thelovelyruin · 7 months
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𝖆𝖈𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉.
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso just couldn’t wait for you and him to be acquainted.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au, smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 5.3K
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from acquainted by the weeknd.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! probably my favorite yet. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!
18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT
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Baby, you're no good 'cause they warned me ‘bout your type.
“Yeah, no.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean, NO. She’s bad news, dude.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I don’t. She just gives off the vibe that she’d break your heart or somethin'.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, she’s out of your league, first of all. You’re kinda awkward, and I can’t tell if you’re celibate or just can’t get laid. That and she’s pretty friendly with everyone.”
“Shouldn’t she be friendly?”
“Yeah, a little too friendly. A jealous motherfucker like you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“She wouldn’t be that way if she was in a relationship, right?”
Yuuji raised his eyebrow and threw his arms up.
“The world may never know. That is unless…you wanna know?”
Choso rolled his eyes, following Yuuji to class.
Baby, you're no good; I think I fell for you.
Little did Yuuji know Choso was already in love with you. As much as he’d try not to, he couldn’t help but see you walking around campus. 
Pretty face adorned with sparkly lipgloss, your hair always down, giving a slight view of your hoop earrings. You usually wore a little locket necklace, never telling anyone what was inside, sitting atop a pink shirt that your tits always looked great in. Then a miniskirt that, depending on the breeze that day, gave a sneak peek of your ass. Then, the heels you wear, except for the winter when you wore a cute pair of boots with leggings, he could practically see through them. It was tough when he was in class with you; you raised your hand to answer a question, a French manicure, and the clinking of your bangles that were practically ASMR for him. Then, there were your books that, when some random guy wasn’t offering to hold them, pressed against your chest, making your breasts lift as you walked. Sometimes, you’d wear a perfume that smelled like cake; other days, vanilla, pretty hard to miss as you walked by. Then there was your skin, always glowing like you drank from the fountain of youth or something, legs smooth as you crossed them over one another or stood before the seminar to answer a question on the board. Sometimes, you had a pair of stockings or thigh highs that covered them, ending a little lower than where your skirt ended; god forbid you bent over, which you were careful never to do, usually asking someone to pick something up for you. You never touched a door either; sure, it was because every guy wanted to fuck you, running around like your puppies ready for a task; sometimes you gave them one, they’d run back to you with a lollipop or something like that, which you parted your lips so sexily to take in and suck. 
It's not like he was paying attention or anything.
You got me puttin' time in.
Now, Choso wasn’t terrible at talking to girls, sometimes getting approached but a little too awkward to continue the conversation. Then again, he had the hots for you, so it was hard to look at anyone else. He’d got it in his mind that he’d talk to you one of these days. Maybe he’d ask you out on a date, but he wouldn’t know how he’d react if you rejected him; in light of that, he never said anything to you, just an awkward look if you guys ever made eye contact, which you always gave him a confident one, followed by a wave. But all that was thrown out the window right now. He was too shocked that you were standing in front of him to hear what you’d said; your face had one of those optimistic looks, hands sitting on his desk in the library as your arms squished your tits together, leaning over a bit to look at him.
“Hello, earth to Choso, you there?”
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
Your skirt sat particularly short on your hips today, your belly button ring gleaming with a little heart at the end, but his eyes drifted to your waistline, a little bit of a pink fabric peeking ever so slightly out the top of your denim-
“I said, “Hey, Choso! What’s up?””
“Oh, sorry. Not much, how about you?”
“Oh, nothin’; saw you were sittin’ alone and wanted to come say hi; that okay?”
It was more than okay. He had to shift in his seat, boner becoming irritably hard against his thigh.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, wanna take a seat?”
“Sure! So, whatcha workin' on?”
“Oh, I’m just studying for the statistics exam.”
“That class is super hard! I feel like I’m not getting any of it.”
He took that as his one-way ticket to testing the waters with you.
“I could, um, tutor you if you want.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
You perked up, hand touching his arms, tits calling out as you shifted towards him in the seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, but he knew he had to focus if this was gonna work at all.
“Yeah, it’s no problem.”
“Perfect, when are you free?
He was free anytime for you.
“Uh, I’m free after classes; what about you?”
“Hmm, well, I have a sorority meeting at six tomorrow, so that probably won’t work, but then, ooo, I have cheer practice on Thursday, ugh, and I can’t forget Nobara’s party on Friday!”
“So, Wednesday?”
“Perfect! We’d just have to do it after my nail appointment at 3.”
He looked at your nails; nothing looked bad about them, so he was confused. He hadn’t realized how busy you were, which explained why you didn’t have a boyfriend. But that only made him feel worse.
“I think your nails are nice like that?”
You were blushing now, bringing a hand out in front of you two.
“Ya think so? I was thinking of changing the color; I've changed my mind since last week.”
Your phone got a ring; he noticed it was Mai, a girl he’d often see you walking around with. Happily, you answered it.
“Hey babe, what's up?”
He couldn't hear what Mai was saying to you on the phone, but fuck, he wished you'd answer the phone like that for him. That's when it struck him that he hadn't even-
“Sorry about that! She had to tell me about this crazy thing one of our sisters did.”
“Sisters?”
“Yeah, like in our sorority, silly! Anyways, gotta blast, but I enjoyed our chat!”
You pulled a pen out of your purse along with a piece of gum; after unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth, you grabbed Choso’s hand, writing down your phone number.
“There ya go, put it in fast so it doesn’t wash off, 'kay? Bye, cutie!”
With that, you walked away. See, this is where Choso was fucked; he had to think about when he should text you, now, later today, or Wednesday? That and his boner. He hurried up and shuffled to his and Yuuji’s dorm room, using his backpack to cover his crotch.
Nobody got me feeling this way.
“YOU GOT HER NUMBER?”
“Yes, but it’s because I’m tutoring her.”
“So, you and her, alone. “Studying”.”
“Yes, Yuuji, now fuck off!”
When Choso told Yuuji about the exchange earlier, he was convinced you were on something.
“So, she just randomly walked up to you? Isn’t that weird?”
“Is it that foreign for someone to want to talk to me?”
Yuuji looked him up and down, giving him that look. Choso scoffed and continued typing up his essay. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, if he was being honest. He tried his best to put off texting you, but that lasted all but 4 hours.
“Hey. It’s Choso.”
He sighed as he threw his head back. He was feeling a bit stupid, to be honest. For all he knew, you had been dared to talk to him, or it was a little game you came up with. Still, he knew it wasn’t in your character to do something like that, but his self-loathing told him otherwise. All of a sudden, though, his screen lit up.
“haiiii <3 wednesday still good? :3”
“Yeah, what time?”
“let’s do 5, 'kay?”
“Sounds good.”
“yay! see you then :p.”
When Wednesday came around, Choso was nervous all day. Yuuji teased him for it, saying there was nothing to worry about; you guys were only “studying.” Choso had seen you in class with the usual demeanor and look, but instead, today, you gave him a wink as you walked by, which went straight to his dick. It had been 4:55, and he was pacing his room, trying to mentally and physically prepare to be alone with you for the next hour or so. But then five came, then 5:05, then-
A knock at the door, which he was praying, wasn't Yuuji coming back to the room; he told Choso earlier he was gonna spend the night out ‘In case something happened.’ Much to Choso’s bliss, it was you, panting a bit. 
“I'm so sorry! I spilled my smoothie on my other top, so I had to change, then I ran over as fast as I could! You’re not too mad at me, are you?”
Choso had realized you had a different shirt on when he opened the door. This one was a lower cut, your cleavage on full display, the bottom short cropped. Damn, you looked good.
“You’re fine; come in.”
“Ooo, thanks!”
You walked into the room, and he waited for you to say something; his room was pretty much clean, except for a pair of socks Yuuji left on the floor. Instead, you smile at him, then bend over to set your purse and books- fuck, you bent over. Choso looked at every single item in the room, anything to not stare at your ass in his peripheral vision. Quickly, you got up and turned around, Choso flustered as ever.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Uh, no…let’s get started.”
An hour passed, and Choso was shocked at his level of resolve. He tried his best to help you and pay attention to the papers in front of you, but fuck, your tits looked great from this angle.
“All done! I think this is the best I’ve ever done! Thank you so so much!”
You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him into a hug that made his breath rapid. You pulled back from him now, still hugging him, as you looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours. Choso was much taller than you, so he was getting quite the view, but that came with him looking the most flustered he’s ever been. You let go with a giggle, walking over to sit on his bed. He watched you sit back on your hands, legs slightly open as your chest poked out. God, you looked cute, even better that you were sitting on HIS bed.
“Hey, Choso?”
“Yeah?”
“I need your help with something.”
“What’s up?”
You got me touchin' on your body…
He walked over to you with a confused look on his face. What could you possibly want? You guys had already studied, which is what you both agreed to; maybe another class-
You opened your thighs to him, panty-clad pussy on full display.
He was about to fucking die. He couldn’t help but pinch himself; he had to be dreaming. It was already surprising to him that you were in his room, but you practically asking him to touch your pussy was an enigma. You pulled him forward by his shirt, his face up to yours.
“That is, if you wanna.”
Choso started melting, but he wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. With urgency, he dropped to his knees, positioning himself on the floor between your legs, both draped over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to him. God, he could smell you; it was making him hungry. Then there was your thong soaked from your wetness, leading him to wonder how long you wanted this. The print of your lips against the fabric was about to send him over. He brought his hands up your legs, the feeling of your plush thighs making him ache, all the way up to your hips, where he flipped your skirt up. He wasted no time grabbing the edge of your panties, backing up to pull them down your legs. You opened up a little more for him, soaked pussy on full display. He was dreaming, he was dreaming, he was dreaming. He experimentally brought his fingers up to spread your lips apart, precum dripping out of you. He almost passed out, but that was the last thing he needed to start his mission.
Choso brought his lips down to your pussy, lapping up all of your juices, then fucking his tongue into you. You were moaning, body arching as you found your fingers in his hair. Fuck you tasted good. He brought his tongue to your clit, circling the bud slowly, making the most out of this situation and simultaneously making you whimper.
“Choso….”
You sounded so fucking good. Every moan of his name went straight to his dick, which was looking to rub against anything to get some relief. He brought his fingers up and slipped them inside you, making you groan loudly. He explored your walls carefully, but it wasn’t until he curled his fingers that he really got a rise out of you.
“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!”
He was a damn good listener. He pumped his fingers in and out of you as your body jerked, begging to cum. He was in disbelief; he was the one making you feel like this. Moan like this. Cum like this. It came hard, fingers gripping his hair in a way that brought him out of his hazy state. And fuck, as you came down, you rutted your pussy against his tongue, mouth still opened and eyes rolled back. Choso was in fucking heaven. You were panting on his bed, half-naked, back still arched; you were a sight to see. You began to come back to earth, sitting up on your hands again, pussy most likely staining the sheets, but it’s not like he fuckin' cared.
“Come here.”
Your usual bubbly demeanor left the second you came, grabbing Choso by his shirt and bringing him down to kiss you. You opened your legs so he could position himself between them, kissing him intensely now. Instinctively, he brought his hand up to your tits, groping them through the fabric of your shirt, pinching your nipple once he found it. He ruts his hips against yours, making you groan into his mouth. Fuck, you were so hot, all of his senses were filled with you, he was gonna lose his-
I know I'd rather be complacent.
He fucking came on himself. Simultaneously, your phone began to ring, the same tone as the other day when Mai called you. With a pout, you walked over to his desk to grab your phone. God, he praised himself for wearing back sweats that day. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem you noticed, picking up the phone and smiling. Just like that, you were back to your usual self.
“Hey, hey!”
Mai said something to you as Choso went to his drawer, already looking for a set of underwear and pants to replace the ones he accidentally soaked. You were pouting now, tilting your head to the side as you talked to her.
“But Maiiii, I’m doing something super important!”
You looked at him from head to toe, smirking as you continued talking. Fuck, what were you guys talking about?
“Ugh, fine, but you owe me! See you in a bit.”
You hung up the phone and walked over to him, a sad look on your face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his chest.
“You gotta go?”
“Yeah, but I really don’t want to!”
“It’s fine. You should be ready for the test on Thursday.”
You bent over to pick up your purse and books again; this time, he really couldn’t look because he knew his dick would probably betray him. You put your heels back on, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“Bye, cutie!”
“Um, bye.”
Choso took a shower as soon as you left, in which he had to relieve himself from the events of today. It’s like he couldn’t get your taste you out of his head; every time he tried to focus on his essay, you were there. It didn’t help when he found your thong on the floor beside his bed. Shit, he hadn’t even thought to put them back on you. Quickly, he texted you, letting you know you forgot them.
“oopsie :3 consider them a gift ;)”
Fuck, you were dangerous.
Girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
Baby, you're no good.
“YOU DID WHAT?”
“Shut the fuck up, you're gonna wake the whole hall!”
“Let me get this straight, you fucked her?”
“No, yes, well, not exactly. I, you know…”
“Awe shit, she sucked your-”
“NO, YUUJI, JESUS.”
“So, what did you- Holy shit, you gave her head!”
Choso became flustered, never really having a conversation with Yuuji about his sex life, but Yuuji was more than open about his.
“Yes, I gave her head.”
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up! You’re too damn loud!”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s not like I didn’t believe in you or anything, but a girl like that? I probably would’ve cum on myself.”
Now, Choso knew you were busy, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see you again. He’d remembered everything you said you had to do, so he figured he’d talk to you again at Nobara’s party. He was initially going because Nobara was a mutual friend through Yuuji, but now, he had a way better reason. You guys had seen each other around the halls Thursday, you giving him a wink every time you saw him, and he’d return it with a blush and grin. He hadn’t texted you either, trying to be considerate of your time, but as Friday afternoon came along, you appeared to be distant with him. He was nervous at this point. What if he was over-analyzing things? Just a quick fuck to get each other’s rocks off? Then, unfortunately, the thought came to mind that maybe you had realized he came on himself, which hurt his feelings pretty bad. I mean, he couldn’t help it; spontaneous oral on the girl he’d liked for months now, he was already in bad shape to begin with. But, fuck, he missed you.
All my homies think I'm crazy 'cause I'm thinkin' 'bout us lately.
Nobara’s party could be heard down the street, some AirBnb, all your sisters put in on. Choso couldn’t lie; it was pretty nice, a large house with at least eight bedrooms, a pool and basketball court in the back, and balconies on almost every window. He and Yuuji had shuffled their way into the house, Yuuji immediately looking for something to drink that was far from water. Once he found a bottle of tequila, he poured him and Choso a couple of shots, both throwing them back like it was nothing. Yuuji seemed to know everyone at this party, sparking conversation with damn near anyone that walked by. He and Choso found their way to the backyard, sitting in the little patio section next to the pool.
“So, did you text her yet?”
“No, I’m pretty sure she’s upset with me about something.”
“Cause she’s been giving you the silent treatment?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, she’s obviously not giving it to him.”
But really, if I could, I'd forget about you.
Yuuji pointed to you on the other side of the pool, talking to some guy. You held a cup, presumably with alcohol, but what you were wearing was the kicker. You hadn’t bothered to wear a top, just your string bikini covering your tits, which wasn’t doing a very good job of covering them up. Then there were your shorts; they were basically underwear with how high they came up, the underside of your ass on display. You were leaning into the guy, obviously in deep conversation. The guy, however, was getting an eyeful; he couldn’t even make eye contact with you because he was staring so intently at your chest. 
You got me puttin' time in.
Choso couldn’t lie, it pissed him off real bad. He couldn’t tell if it was because you were talking to this guy and not him or because the guy was looking at you so inappropriately; it wasn’t like he was one to talk. But his jaw locked as he saw the guy slip a hand onto your waist as you stumbled a bit, and you didn’t stop him.
“She’s free to do what she wants.”
“Yeah, she’s doin’ what she wants, alright. Your face was in her pussy on Wednesday, and she’s probably gonna do the same to him tonight.”
Nobody got me feeling this way.
Yuuji’s comment had put a fire under Choso’s ass. Immediately, he got up from where he and Yuuji sat, heading straight towards you.
“Told you, you were jealous, bitch!”
Now, Choso wasn’t the confrontational type, but three shots in, he felt a little bit of that liquid courage. He’d closed the gap between the patio and the pool quickly, focused on getting to you; as he walked up, he could hear you giggling at whatever that fucker was saying. You turned your head in surprise, an awkward smile on your face as Choso grabbed your arm.
“Gonna borrow her right quick.”
Choso could hear the guy cursing him out in confusion as he walked away with you, but if anyone was confused, it was you.
You got me touchin' on your body….
Choso led you up the stairs as you rushed to keep up, spilling your drink a bit. He found an empty bedroom, walked you into it, and locked it behind him.
“Choso, what the actual fuck?”
“What are you doing, huh?”
“What am I doing? What am I doing? Motherfucker, what are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you haven’t talked to me in days. Then you pull me in here, like I’m the bad guy or something, fuck, did eating me out mean anything to you?”
“Of course it did! I haven’t texted you because I wanted to give you space!”
“I could’ve made time for you! I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuses as to-”
To say that we're in love is dangerous…
Your sentence was cut short by Choso pulling you into a kiss. You were fucking mad at him, sure, but you wanted to fuck him more than anything. That’s why you let him lay you on the bed behind you, mouth coming to kiss you, even deeper this time. He pulled back to undo your top, allowing your tits free.
“So, who the fuck was that?”
He brought his lips down to your nipple, sucking it as you moaned softly.
“A friend, what are you, jealous?”
He sucked the other one, massaging your tits as you watched him intently.
“Depends.”
“On?”
But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
Choso began to move his way down, sucking the skin of your stomach as he brought his hands down to hook into your shorts. He had them down to your ankles, pulling them off of you.
“I’m your friend too, no?”
“Something like that.”
He undid the strings on your bikini, throwing them somewhere in the room. He brought his face down to you, kissing your inner thighs to tease you.
“You let all your friends eat your pussy?”
Ever since I met you, I couldn't believe what you did.
You couldn’t answer his question, body reacting to the kitten licks he was giving your clit. Choso was a bit more familiar with you now; he knew you liked it when he fucked you with his tongue and that you moan a little harder when he pressed his tongue harder on our bud. But, god, you were intoxicating. He missed the taste of your pre-cum on his lips, shamelessly saturating his whole face with your juices. That is until he pulled his face back, teasing you.
“Answer me, princess.”
“No, I don't.”
That made him hungry, greedy even. His face was back on you, fucking his tongue into you as he pinned your hips down, watching you squirm from the pleasure. The pleasure he was giving you.
Choso picked up the pace of his tongue, his fingers finding their way to your pussy, curling them as he sucked on your clit. One hand still on your hips to keep you still; it was all in vain because when you came, your body came undone. You buck your hips into his touch, moaning his name as you let him suck you through your high. You were fucking beautiful. He pulled up to look at you, smirking as he saw your tits rise and fall from all the panting you were doing. He figured it wasn’t too bad to give you another orgasm; you looked so fucking hot coming down that he couldn’t resist drinking your cum as he brought his thumb to your clit. You were on fucking fire, still recovering from before, and now he was bringing you up to his face. He pinned you down, devouring you instantly.
Now, Choso felt a little adventurous, bringing his hands up to rub your nipples between his fingers while you fucked his face. You didn’t know where all this nerve came from, presumably because he’s made you cum twice now, the third one about to join. But you honestly didn’t give a fuck. If he had the balls to eat you as good as he was doing, you could care less. Because his tongue was just too damn distracting. You began to grind your pussy on his face, not even considering his ability to breathe; it’s not like he was concerned about it. You were moaning his name like a symphony, pulling them out of you more frequently as you felt your body giving in again.
“Choso, I’m, I, fuck!”
So comfort me…
Choso smirked into your pussy as you came, falling over onto the bed immediately. He was kissing you now, soft and sweet, like he didn’t intend to fuck the shit out of you. With a careful hand, he brought your leg up, pulling it away from the other so he could get in between them. He enjoyed the view of you, spent and gasping for air, bucking your hips slowly as you waited for him to fuck you. As he began removing his clothes, he continued this little conversation.
“Hm, that doesn’t make sense then, does it?”
“You’re more than a friend, Choso.”
At this point, he’d taken everything but his boxers off, dick almost stabbing out the front of his briefs. He took them off quickly, bringing his body back up to sit on top of yours. He kissed you as he fingered your pussy again, making you squirm under his touch. Messily, he brought your cum out of your pussy, rubbing it over his shaft as he looked down at you.
“More than a friend, huh?”
Choso kissed your neck as he slid his dick in, holding your hips as he rolled his into yours. He was painfully slow, pulling out to sink back in. Fuck, it was torture.
“Yes, Choso! Now fuck me, please!”
“No problem.”
He slammed his hips into yours, making you groan. He gripped you tightly as he fucked you, forehead meeting yours so he could see your pretty face as you took him so well.
 “When was the last time you got fucked?”
“Months ago.”
“So, you decided you just wanted me to eat your pussy one day?”
He began that slow pace again, scratching his back as he reached the deepest parts of you.
“No, I liked you for a while! Thought you didn’t like me ‘til I met you in the library!”
He couldn’t fucking believe it. This entire time you’d been waiting for him to make a move, and he was too fucking pussy to do it. Well, he’ll make it up to you now by fucking your pussy. He hit that sweet spot inside you as you moved your hips to meet his, hands brushing through his hair as he gave it to you right where you needed him. And god, you were sexy. You pressed your tits against his chest as he fucked you into the bed, practically screaming his name every time he’d give you a hard thrust to get a rise out of you.
“I want you, princess.”
To be fair, you hadn’t really entertained any of the guys who wanted you; they’d just ogle you, but you wanted someone who’d claim you. Make you his. And Choso was doing it. He fucked you like no one had ever done before, sucking hickeys all over you that you were sure you didn’t have enough concealer to cover up. Then, there was the way he’d moan into your ear. Sometimes your name, but mostly baby, princess, beautiful. He was taking you higher and higher, and you didn’t wanna come down.
“Then, I’m yours.”
Ain't no rush from me.
That was enough for Choso. He fucked you faster, keeping your hips still so he could fuck you how you needed it. Your body was practically begging to cum again, all but throwing yourself at him. He prayed you’d cum soon because he’d be down for the count here shortly, panting into the side of your neck as he took you. And take you, he did, gripping his shoulders as you moaned his name into the room, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open as you came for the third time that night. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you, nor did Choso, because he was right behind you, gripping the headboard as he fucked you through his orgasm, whimpering your name as he fell to pieces inside you. Your pussy was like fucking heaven, taking his cum so well as your hands fell to your side, too fucked out to move.
I’ll keep on touchin' on your body. To say that we're in love is dangerous…
Choso fell beside you, exhausted as ever. He was grateful he’d taken precautionary measures and relieved himself before he came to the party cause he surely would’ve cum the second he felt your pussy. He looked over at you; he could tell you were pretty damn tired; who wouldn’t be after he made you cum so many times. So, he helped you put your clothes back on, carrying you down the stairs and out to his car. He shot Yuuji a text to let him know he was leaving, choosing to leave out the details of what he had been doing for the past hour and a half. After getting you in the car, he got in the driver’s seat and started it.
“Ima take ya home, okay?”
You perked up a little, grabbing his arm and wrapping around it.
“Wanna go home with you!”
“Whatever ya want, princess.”
Choso gripped your thigh as he drove off, returning to his dorm. He carried you to his room, removing your clothes and helping you get into one of his t-shirts. Both of you in the bed, he pulled you into his chest, letting you get comfortable. You look up at him, smiling a bit as you yawn.
“Night, baby!”
You kissed him quickly and laid back down, drifting off to sleep.
‘Baby’, huh? He could get used to that.
But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
♱ the song used in this story is acquainted by the weeknd. 🖤
♱ masterlist.
♱ all fics playlist.
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𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.
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1K notes · View notes
i520u · 7 months
Text
⌕ dates with riize 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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hello briize hello riize lovers i’m one of you please keep the requests coming
PAIRING riize x gn!reader (not proofread!)
TAGS sfw, fluff, headcanons
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OSAKI SHOTARO ༄
literally all sunshines and rainbows throughout the rest of the relationship
if you get into an argument with him that has GOT to be your fault idk what to tell you
i feel like he’s the type of boyfriend to teach you how to drive
and when you hit the curb he’s like “that’s okay! we can try again when i fix the car!”
but at the same time he’s gripping that roof handle in the car for dear life but he’s just too sweet to tell you that your driving’s horrible
he never lets you drive again btw
HE’D FILM SOOO MANY DANCE TIKTOKS WITH YOU!!!
also i feel like instead of a gf effect, it’s the opposite with him because he gives you the bf effect
your entire fashion style is gonna change for sure like have you seen this man? that is a man of AESTHETICS
would be so enthusiastic with teaching you all the tiktok dance steps
and none of these tiktoks are cringe they’re actually those cool ones
the type to hug you at the end of the tiktok video or kiss the temple of your head idk…
i imagine his ideal dates might be cafe hopping/cafe hunting all across tokyo or just shopping around shibuya
takes you to one of those claw machines while you’re shopping and he’ll try winning you a random plushie of an anime that neither of you watch
so now you have a random plush of like… some dude from haikyuu
would pay for your drinks btw (coffee, milk tea, matcha)
SONG EUNSEOK ༄
OK LISTEN.
cake decorating
he just looks like he’d enjoy doing that like did you see how proud he was wearing that hello kitty hairclip
please this man is gonna hear you suggest it and he’s like “LET’S GO!!”
craziest part is that he’s gonna eat you up at decorating it too
you’ll see him make a cute flower on his cake using the cream and you’re like “how did you do that :( how dare you be better than me :(”
and he’s gonna giggle nervously and his face is gonna turn a light shade of red while he helped you out
“i’m not better than you, we’re equally good.” and then he compares your cakes together and the only reason why yours looks ok is because he helped you for the most part
if you genuinely feel a little gloomy that yours looked bad he would purposely mess up on the rest of his cake
because eunseok will never be caught dead leaving his beloved partner unhappy, no matter how small the issue might be
i feel like he would notice those little shift of emotions that you have that even you barely notice
and he’d do his best to cheer you up because you’re just his everything </3
after the cakes are done he takes 282629 pictures of you and your cake and then he’d probably say things like “keep posing, you’re so pretty”
i think most of his dates would involve domestic things like that
if you don’t live together he’d crash to your house, help you deep clean the entire house and he considers that a date too
a little bit more low maintenance when it comes to relationships if that makes sense
also i think he’s not very clingy but he LOVESSS a clingy partner even if he doesn’t verbally say or show it
he’s always have a light blush on his face whenever you just cling on him
so please cling onto him as much as possible
JUNG SUNGCHAN ༄
just a feeling… but
gym dates 😭
and he’s so cheesy about it okay like at first you’re reluctant because the thought of going to a gym scares you
but then the first time you go there and he’s like so touchy with you in a good way
purposely standing so close to you while he helps you out with the equipments
maybe at one point he’s even like “yeah just do it like that.” while helping you out with the weights and then giving you a kiss on the cheek
which catches you off guard you almost dropped the weights but he was holding it with you so you’re good
when you blush he would let out a flustered giggle and won’t comment on it
and then you make it even worse by saying something like “i’m just flushed from the workout” and he’s like “sure babe”
would always be close to you just in case you’re caught underneath the weight and you can’t lift it up anymore
at the end of the date you’re like “i can’t move my legs” and then he just carries you
takes you out to eat something sweet afterwards
he’s going to be all smiley the whole time too
at the end he’s like “didn’t i tell you it would be fun? do you wanna go to the gym with me again next week?”
if you say no he’s not gonna sulk and punch the wall or something he’s just gonna be like “aww that’s alright too.” and then kiss your head
then he would say something like “you were incredible on your first try though, i’m proud of you.”
clenches fist i want him so bad…
PARK WONBIN ༄
i swear wonbin’s a little weird
like have you seen his tiktoks… something’s strange about that man
i think he stated before that he loves shopping so you KNOW what that means
always send you vids he sees on the internet about some new shop opening up in hongdae or something and he’s like “let’s go bae”
sends you the weirdest tiktoks and is like “you”
and then you’re like “wonbin what”
and he won’t elaborate
sends you his fit checks
if you don’t approve he will actually sulk i’m not kidding
sometimes when he’s bored he’d write a song for you
like not a singing song but a musical one from his guitar if that makes sense
he loves matching with you. matching earrings, matching clothes, matching beanies.
ohh i feel like he’d also do those cute couple videos on tiktok like you know he would slow dance with you in the snow and post it for everyone to see this man LOVES soft launching you
his soft launches are also by no means him trying to hide you or keep you a secret, it’s more like… he just likes to have a mysterious vibe to his online person 😍
also i think he loves leaving kisses on your neck whenever you snuggle up to watch a movie or something
like you’re talking to him while you’re on his lap and he’s just like “mhm, and then what?” and then he gives you kisses down your jaw and neck
he’s all over you PLEASE no matter in public or private and it’s even worse (or better 😜) in private too
HONG SEUNGHAN ༄
definitely a gamer bf
dates with him involves him going out to see the sun for the first time that week ❤️
i’m just kidding but your dates probably involves a lot of going out because you feel like this man NEEDS to get some sunlight
also one of the guys that enjoys PDA
he wins the idgaf war he would kiss you at any point of time if he suddenly feels like it
you can just be talking like straight up gossiping about something that happened between your aunt and a scammer and he would just…
he would just grabbed the sides of your face and plant the deepest kiss ever
and then you’re all flustered and he would burst into laughter
he’s the biggest flirt ever he has this one stare that would leave you WEAK in the knees
definitely has a habit of staring at your lips when you talk which makes you SOOO nervous
plays with your hands or hair while you talk
just a thought but he’d definitely run his thumb over your lower lip after he kissed it WOAH
calls you with the most generic pet names but god it makes you run LAPS
also when you come over his house he’d make you pull for him on that FIFA game idk how the game works but i hope you get what i’m trying to say
LEE SOHEE ༄
AH i feel like him as a bf is so fun
he looks like so much fun from the instagram/tiktok posts tbh
the most normal boyfriend ever help idk how to explain it
sends you pictures of him at work with captions like “fighting my hardest battle (i’m at the work i willingly applied for)
various dates
he doesn’t always suggest ideas for dates but he goes ALL out for you when you suggest them
you want to watch the sunset? best believe he’ll take you to the prettiest beach he could find for you to enjoy
you want to have a movie date? he’s gonna set up the projector at his house HIMSELF
i don’t think he’s very keen on kissing in public but he has no problem holding you close to him
holds your hand, holds you by your waist, EVERYTHING
takes 0.5x pictures of you from your forehead
he has a picture of the two of you completing a heart drawn on your cheeks as his lockscreen
always yapping about you like
“my lover made me this lunch”
“my lover gave me this for my birthday”
“my lover tied my tie for me today”
his favourite type of dates are karaoke dates sorry like this man is beyonce’s son he’s GOING to use that godsent vocals of his
also i feel like anniversary celebrations are so grand with him his love for you is so genuine he wants to give you the world and more
i want him so bad… he’s my goat
ANTON LEE ༄
dates are SOPHISTICATED
he’s bred in BOSTON you know he goes crazy with that shit
make you dress up fancy in silk and satin and stuff everyone once in a while to take you to a fine dining i’m so serious
takes you on concert dates too
like… mitski or laufey or niki zenfaya concert dates
he would lift you up on his shoulders during these concerts so you would see clearly
also likes backhugging you
he’s so soft spoken so you don’t have the heart to ever start any arguments with him
when he was a swimmer he’d give you those vip pass or something (idk how dating an athlete works oops)
after his competition finish and he’s still wet from the water and its just covered by his towel and swim attire, he would go up to you with a flushed face and would ask you if he looked cool or not
i think he’s the type to enjoy talking to you most of the time during dates or just like an everyday occurrence
like he loves staring into your eyes as you speak he loves you so much but he’s too shy to tell you that so often
he’s not the type to just blurt out “i love you” but you can just tell that his feelings for you are true from the way he stares at you
would let you decorate his hair with your hairclips and would wear them out for the rest of the day
he’s soooo smitten by you it’s crazy
2K notes · View notes
Lessons in Love.
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
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Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 3615
Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x
Masterlist. Requests.
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“No way. How is that even possible?”
You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.
“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.
“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”
The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.
You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.
Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.
A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.
“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”
Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.
You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.
The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.
You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.
             ⋆    .  ✵  ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵ 
When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.
The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.
And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.
Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.
He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.
“Hi.”
Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.
“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”
You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.
It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.
You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.
He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.
“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.
You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.
You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.
“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.
“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.
“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”
You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.
“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.
“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.
Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?
He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.
He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.
“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”
Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.
“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.
He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.
At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.
Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.
“Bucky,” he murmurs.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.
“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.
“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”
You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.
You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.
“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.
“There’s more than one kind of milk?”
Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.
“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”
He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.
“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”
She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.
You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.
“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.
“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”
No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.
Instead, he answers cautiously.
“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.
“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.
Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.
“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.
You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.
Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.
“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.
“What, me?” you tease.
“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.
“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.
“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.
“Why don’t we do it together?”
A pause. He’s confused again.
“Do what together?”
“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”
It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.
You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.
“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”
Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.
“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.
You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.
“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.
“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.
             ⋆    .  ✵  ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵ 
You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.
Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.
“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.
You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”
He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.
You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.
Underneath your name, only one thing is written.
I love you.
You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,
“You do?”
That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.
“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”
You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.
“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”
He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.
“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.
He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?
You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.
Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”
I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
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5K notes · View notes
inezthefish · 2 months
Text
My Outsiders Headcanons
Warnings: None, maybe some cursing, mention of Dally being a manwhore
Ponyboy Curtis
- He 100% has a gluten allergy or is lactose intolerant
-Trips up the stairs
-He puts ranch on everything
Sodapop Curtis
-Rip Soda you would have loved Takis 😞
-He can’t add anything past 7+4 without using his hands.
-He hates spiders and screams like a little girl if he sees one.
Darry Curtis
-Makes one of those huge, itemized shopping lists.
-Will put soap in your mouth if you say a bad word
-Type of guy to be on a date with a girl and be having a nice conversation and then it’ll just be like
Girl- “So what’s your family like?”
Darry- “Well, my parents died so now I have to raise two teens on my own, and one of them ran away when his best friend killed someone last year.”
Johnny Cade
-When Soda grows out of some clothes, Darry very discreetly washes it and gives it to Johnny.
-Hates socks that go past your ankles, like he will tweak if they are past his ankles
-Loves plants, when he grows up and gets his own house he’s gonna be one of those people with hundreds of succulents and plants in their home.
Dallas Winston
-Let’s be honest, Dallas Winston probably has a couple unknown kids because bro ejaculates and evacuates.
-Cat person. 100% had tried to bring a cat into Bucks and Buck was like “Nah dude”
-He has this one pair of boots he stole from a store that he gave to Johnny when Johnny’s tennis shoes stopped fitting him
Two-Bit Mathews
-Let’s his little sister (i headcanon her to be 5 or 6) paint his nails, the gang makes fun of him for it
-Actually fire at math but just doesn’t try
-Hates only the green apples, loves all the other ones
Steve Randle
-Has said “You can’t handle the randle” unironically.
-The amount of cavities this man has from chocolate cake and not brushing his teeth
-He definitely loves white girl music, this man can sing the whole 1989 (Taylor’s Version) set list and will do so.
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im-yn-suckers · 2 months
Note
riki bf habits?
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yes yes
teases abt ur height bc bro is shaq
so we know that hes a personn who loves to play with hair and loves to have his hair played with but did you know he loves washing ur hair and having his hair washed
his prescence is extremely calming and he can say the same about you
has cute nicknames for the plushies you guys adopted and call your children
'i saw this at the mall with jake and i thought it was cute like u!!' IMAGINE WIHT A BIG SMILE
'babe what do you wanna do?' 'idk alsong as im wit u' :(
ALWAYS makes sure u eat bc why would u starve ur bootiful body 'baby!! i ate today!!!' 'really?? Im so proud of you princess!!'
remembers everything abt u. u met three years ago and brought up u like the scent of vanilla?? three years laterbuys you a vanilla scented perfume
THE PETNAMES WUTH THIS MAN "angel, can u pass the salt?" ''princess can you hand me my phone'' ''cutie do u have lip balm'' ''baby/babe what time is it'' now the following only come out when hes sleepy or when no one else is around; ''love stay here its still early'' ''no, my love, we cant make cake right now' 'but its cake and no ones here to stop us' 'ITS THREE AM'
sends u texts w memes that say shit ilke 'this apple is yellow, if u see pink i fine asf mami' to annoy you
grabs ur waist. his arms are a belt. his personal hand warmer. sticks his hand underur shirt 4 shore!
has a soft spot for u and only u
imaginecuddling w the human koala and he whispers 'kiss me loser' wtv u say gorgeous
sends u reels and tiktoks of spiderman and hellokitty saying us
TV GIRL BRACELETS ARGUE W THE WALL
has matvhing promise rings for sure
unlike some ppl, i think hes def the type to write little notes for u
'shut up riki' 'make me bitch' sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy
(over text) y/n; babe can u bring me wayer on ur wayback from taking shit pls?? riki; WAYER 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 riki; sure angel
ur doing ur work likr a responsible student (manifesting) and 'TALK TO MEEEEEE' 'im studying love' 'idc kiss me l/n y/n'
'cmere pretty girl' while checking u out. laening againsgt the counter trying to distract you from baking
BACKHUGS AND NECK KISSES STFU
'babe' 'hm?' you stare at your phone, not lookint at him 'look at me' you look 'good girl' SIR SIR SIR IM NOT UR STRONGEST SOLDIER
buys u wtv u want bc y shld u suffer w/o 3+ prada bags, a matchcing bulgari serpenti bracelt and ring, dior and chanel makeup etc.
loves u to the end of the world.
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starkwlkr · 10 months
Text
banned pt. 2 | charles leclerc
welcome everyone to banned pt. 2 ‼️ in this fic, ruby is 7 and mathéo is 3 and making their ig debut, introducing the schumi kids, mikey and demri <3
It had been years since Ruby introduced herself to social media. Everyone loved her and loved how funny she was. No one ever thought they would get another ‘Ruby goes on social media’ video since Charles had stated multiple times that she was forever on a phone ban. All it took for Charles to give up his phone was a couple of drinks and a distraction from Lorenzo and Arthur who had dared him to jump into the pool.
This time, Ruby wasn’t alone. She had her brother Mathéo with her so the media got to see two Leclercs mess around.
It was a Pascale’s birthday and the family had decided to surprise the mother with a cake and gifts. The Schumacher’s were also invited so Mikey and Demri were hanging out with the Leclerc children. By the end of the night, almost everyone was giggly and singing random songs every now and then.
The kids had just taken a bath after spending most of their day inside the pool. Ruby had come down from her room and saw Charles starting to empty his pockets onto the table.
“Charles! No!” Y/n laughed as Charles was debating whether or not to take his shirt off.
“Jump in fully clothed!” Arthur yelled as Carla tried to get him to shut up.
“Okay.” Charles replied, but before he jumped in, he grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her to the pool. She had no choice but to jump in as well.
Ruby saw Charles’ phone and quickly ran to get it before anyone saw her. Thankfully they were all distracted by drunk Charles. She ran back up to her room where Mathéo was playing on the IPad.
“Théo! Look!” Ruby showed the boy what she had in her hands. “Want to make a video?”
“Does it have games?” Demri asked, following her best friend.
The boy nodded and put away his IPad where he had found it. Ruby and Mathéo were completely different from their personalities to the way they dressed.
Ruby unlocked Charles’ phone and clicked on the instagram app. The first post that she came across was not her mother’s like last time. It was a family picture that was taken yesterday posted on Arthur’s account. She immediately went to the comments and typed one herself.
charles_leclerc yo u snore 😂😂😂
“Ruby, I want to see!” Mathéo whined since his sister was not sharing like they were suppose to.
“That’s my papa’s name!” Mikey pointed to Mick’s username in Arthur’s instagram likes.
“Go get maman’s phone! She has the same thing!”
So the little boy stood up from the floor and ran to get his mother’s phone. Y/n had been charging her phone in her room so Mathéo knew where to find the phone. When he came back, he saw Ruby pointing the phone to her doll collection that had grown since Instagram last saw it.
“Ruby, how do I get the game you’re playing?” Mathéo asked as he handed the phone to his sister.
Ruby sighed and set the phone down on her bed. “It’s not a game, Théo! Look, it’s this one.” Ruby opened up the instagram app on Y/n’s phone and saw the same post she had seen on Charles’ phone. Her fingers accidentally made the screen go from Y/n’s instagram feed to the camera. Demri and Mikey gasped when they saw filters.
“Take a picture!”
“Wait! There’s funny faces!” Mathéo excitedly said and started to put filters on his face. “I want to show papa!”
“No! If you show papa then he’s going to take away the phone and then you won’t be able to play and he’s going to be mad with you and he won’t give you kisses and he’ll give me more kisses. He told me.” Ruby said.
paddockfashion “he told me” me when i lie
forzacha16 room tour when?
schumacherlegacy this is so unexpected i love it
“I can show you papa’s trophies. Um, you have to be quiet because Uncle Enzo and his girlfriend and Auntie Carla and Uncle Arthur are here. I helped maman with grand-mère’s cake and it’s pink and I drew a heart and she loves it.” Ruby had a habit of talking about one topic then talking about another.
“My papa has a room like that too. But his has more because he said my opa’s trophies are in there too. He has a lot. I counted them the other day and I counted a lot.” Mikey explained.
“Where are you going?” Mathéo asked, still holding his mother’s phone in his hands.
“I’m going to papa’s trophy room.”
totowolffisadilf of course charles has a trophy room
gosports44 WHATS HIS CREDIT CARD NUMBER
nomichaelno tell charles to follow me on tiktok
“TikTok? My maman has TikTok.” Ruby said as her and Mathéo walked to the end of the hall where Charles kept all his trophies and helmets in a room.
“Show my helmet!” Mathéo shouted as he pointed to a helmet that Charles had gifted him for his birthday.
“No,” Ruby simply said and pointed the camera towards all the trophies. “I wanted to show the helmets Dem and I have but they’re not here.”During the Monaco Grand Prix, Charles had gifted Demri and Ruby matching helmets with their initials on the side. Ruby had hers in Mick’s house since she had taken it when her and Demri had a sleepover and forgotten it. “never mind this is boring. Uncle Pierre got me more barbies!”
She ran back to her room and dropped the phone. “Ruby! That’s papa’s phone!” Mathéo gasped.
“It was already broken when I got it,” Ruby picked up the phone and saw the comments and lightly gasped when she saw a familiar name.
pierregasly you’re still banned
pierregasly don’t break your papa’s phone
“What does that say?” Mathéo asked as he took the phone from Ruby’s hands.
“You can’t read, I can! It says listen to me and to give me two euros.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“Yes it does. I know how to read too!” Demri defended her friend.
“You can’t count, how can you read?” Mikey teased his sister.
yukisrestuarant ruby and demri stan until i die
formulasbitch gaslighting era
wagstyle i agree it says give her two euros
“Ruby? Do you have my phone?” The kids heard Charles shout.
“No!”
2K notes · View notes
mydearzero · 9 months
Note
bday sex w/ spencer?
thanks for the request! ♡♡
Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.
Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!
3.7K words
take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik
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"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour. 
"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." 
After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans. 
Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.
"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat. 
You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building. 
Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!' 
"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy. 
She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now. 
You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room. 
Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday. 
"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face. 
When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed. 
The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.
"Surprise!" 
Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group. 
Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head. 
You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.
Happy Birthday Sexy!
Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess. 
And it's not wrong. 
You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle. 
Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!" 
Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words. 
"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.
"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders. 
"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine." 
You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight. 
You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part. 
You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake. 
Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation. 
The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party. 
Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer. 
Intrigued? 
Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present. 
Calculating, maybe? 
Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences. 
It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps. 
Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching. 
You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo. 
She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions. 
"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss." 
She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it." 
"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye. 
"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder. 
"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged. 
Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up." 
"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely. 
"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it." 
"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight. 
"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing. 
"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue. 
"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it. 
"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye. 
"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind." 
You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted. 
"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."
Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.  
You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said. 
You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them. 
Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer. 
"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch. 
"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look. 
He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you. 
"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication. 
His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?" 
"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time." 
"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.
"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive." 
Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.
"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.
Lust. 
Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away. 
"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding. 
"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction. 
He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours." 
Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment. 
"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping. 
"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in. 
Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks. 
"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for. 
He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit. 
"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. 
You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!" 
He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls. 
When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop." 
You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.
"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.   
"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right. 
"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged. 
"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open. 
"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them. 
"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head. 
"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor. 
He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers. 
"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock. 
"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence. 
You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions. 
He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face. 
"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline. 
"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear. 
"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt. 
"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.
"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that. 
Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation. 
Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside." 
"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now." 
"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued. 
"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move. 
"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you. 
"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.
"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in. 
"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch. 
Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours. 
"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke. 
"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane." 
Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure. 
Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss. 
"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer. 
"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good. 
"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm. 
"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum. 
"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned. 
 "O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax. 
He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.  
He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that. 
When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over. 
You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you. 
"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer." 
"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.
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