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hoshigray · 23 hours

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Pretty Please with a cherry and spinkles ontop😩🙏 I need a Pussymatized Toji. Absolutely infatuated with his FWB. He was the one that said no attachments until he got addicted to her.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lmao, "pussymatized" is new, but i see the vision!!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fwb! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - implied prior sex - backshots + missionary positions mentioned - oral (f! receiving) - feedbag position - multiple orgasms - Daddy kink - overstimulation - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pussy-whipped! Toji - mention of spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

Toji knew better. He’s done the whole friends with benefits gig plenty of times, and he knows the big rule that comes with the package:

Absolutely no feelings involved, or else the arrangement is off.

“Hoooh…! Ahhhn, T-Toji, stop…Not too fast!”

That is until he met you.

For about a year, you and Toji have been friends with benefits. It started as something Toji told you about, how he’d sleep around and get in those kinds of relationships. You were the one to ask if he’d be down to do it with you.

The onyx-headed one thought about it for a minute until he gave in and said sure. However, he stressed the “no feelings attached” policy intensely. He considered you a dear friend – a rarity in his life – and he didn’t want what you two were doing to damage this close relationship. It was just casual sex with a friend, nothing more. And you nodded to his regulation with a smile, moving your friendship to the next level.

Off the bat, the sex between you two was great! It had been a while since Toji had done stuff like this, and doing it with someone he could trust like you made the interaction smooth and entertaining. Problems between the two of you were rare, and it’s thanks to you two being mature adults that made handling this non-serious relationship easy!

Nevertheless, one thing made this cooperation difficult — at least on Toji’s part. The older man was becoming more and more infatuated with you.

He doesn’t know when it started getting this bad; Toji was never one to be the one catching feelings during these kinds of kinships. So, this was a bit new for him, and it made the poor man go crazy as the days went on. Him? Catching feelings?? Breaking his own rule??? Get real!

But he couldn’t lie to himself, it was all different since he was doing it with you. You were the closest person he could call a friend outside of Shiu, and that never changed once you two became fuck buddies. If anything, things have gotten a lot closer between you two. You cared for his kids while he was away, cooked meals for him because you feared he didn’t eat enough during the day, or invited him on grocery sprees.

It wasn’t like you didn’t do stuff like that before. Yet now that you and Toji were doing things beyond a regular friendship, the man was seeing you in a new light that he hadn’t seen before, and God, it was suffocating him. He doesn’t know how many of your gorgeous smiles or sweet strings of laughter he can take before he snaps.

But it wasn’t just your personality and gracious aura that lured him on. As mentioned before, the sex was amazing — No, scratch that; you were amazing. It had been a very long while since Toji had done sexual shit with someone who could reciprocate pleasure. Fuck, you felt so good, whether it was jerking or sucking him off while massaging his balls in your pretty hands, or bouncing on his cock with that tight cunt of yours that had him on the edge, holding on to your waist as he’d piston his cock deep inside. Merely thinking about churning your walls that snug on his cock had him gulp thickly, thinking a heavy sigh would get these thoughts out of his mind.

But they don’t, of course. Because he’d be damned if he’d try to forget the image of your beautiful body all hot and sweaty with his. Your moans and squeaks were all prompted by his thrusts, and – fucking Jesus – he could never get over the way you said his name, so desperate for him with watery, doe eyes that pull him in. Looking all disheveled and alluring for him and only him, peering over your shoulder when he’d hit it from behind like you wanted to see him feel good. Toji would’ve been a fool if he hadn’t fallen for you!

There was a time when Toji’d slip up and hold your hand as he chased release, noticing you catch the sight of his palm and integers gripping yours. Thinking you were uncomfortable, he removed his hand from yours, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist and bring him to you for a kiss. It was just a kiss, is what he’d say to justify it. But hearing you mewl under his lips and whisper to his ears was the last straw for him, hammering his dick and spilling his load into you as you two made out passionately.

Yeah, there was no doubt about it; the guy was falling for you hard.

So hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It scared him a bit – the thought of you being his made his heart beat at a pace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. You corrupted his senses; he wanted to hear you, kiss you, feel you, smell you, taste you — fuck, did he want to taste you; it was so bad.

But it wasn’t as bad until you hadn’t stopped by for two weeks. You’d text him your apologies, saying that work caught you up and that you couldn’t see him and the kids. And even then, you’d still manage to throw a phone call before sleep, and Toji doesn’t know if that was better or worse. Your voice made his skin crawl, loving how you spoke to him all soft and fatigued yet affectionately. You were too good for him, having him feel guilty for fisting his cock unbeknownst to you.

He couldn’t take it anymore, being away from you. He could barely go through the first week, and the second had him itching to see you. That’s precisely what he did, calling you to let you know he’d come to see you. And once you opened the door to greet him with a warm smile, that last bit of thread in him had finally snapped.

“Nnmmah! Hic…shtooopp licking…! I’ll cum again, I’m gonna—!!”

After pulling you in for a hungry kiss, the man brought himself inside your apartment with you glued to him. Feverish pecks kept your lips on him, squeaking at how smoothly he picked you up and brought you to the living room couch. He’d suck on your neck while removing your bottoms, already stifling him with your fragrance to the point he shudders.

He’d trail his kisses downwards, nibbling on certain areas that made you gasp for him, sucking on the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers rubbed on your folds covered by damp underwear. You had him on his knees, uncaring about the angle. His thoughts only thinking about the wet chasm he sees after discarding your panties. Nothing holds him back from plunging his face into your wetness and showing no signs of stopping when you’re wailing for him. He’d lick, lap, and suck on you with no remorse, face utterly stuck on your slit until you came for the first time.

“—Ahhaa, I’m cummin’, Tojiii! OhJesusChrist—Nnnmoo!”

“Mmmph…! Fuck, c’mere, sweetie, lemme take care of you…”

And now, he’s chased you down for another climax, your legs tremble and your figure shakes as Toji’s tongue relentlessly pets around your labia, frantically licking your clit to expel more fluids to seep out your vagina.

And Toji drinks it all, stuffing his face into your inner thighs like breathing is not an issue. You cry and involuntarily try to close your legs as your nerves are at an all-time high, grabbing tuffs of raven hair. But the man doesn’t allow you to shy away, his strong hands keeping you grounded on the couch as he eats you out. They never leave your frame unless it’s to unzip his jeans to let his erection breathe. Your cute howls of pleasure, your delightful fluids painting his tongue and lips, and your intoxicating smell; all have his hard-on twitch painfully, precum staining his boxer briefs.

He’s so far gone, his scarred lips kissing on your folds to gently juxtapose the tongue he uses to fuck you. You jerk and jolt, sobbing from the fervent mouth making sure every crevice of your cunt goes explored. Your orgasm still isn’t away, everything feels so sensitive that you feel like you could break.

“Tahhh, Toji, nooo,” you wail, trying to push his head from burrowing deeper between your thighs. Yet he shows no cooperation. “I just came, yer doing t’oo muuch…!”

Now, he finally removes his face from you, his chin wet with your essence which he licks from his lips. “Sorry, mama,” his rich emerald eyes lock with yours, they have you freeze under his gaze. “But I’m not done yet.” You shake your head, inching your hips away from his proximity. But he captures your waist and slides you back down. “Don’t,” he pleads, placing your legs on his shoulders. “One more time fr’ me, ‘kay, baby? Let Daddy have ya one more time.”

An excruciatingly slow lick from down your slit to your clitoris has you quiver, sloppy kisses further the mess of saliva and come between your legs, and you can’t control the throbbing sensation that returns to ache your inner walls. He chuckles, “Look at ya winkin’ at me, guess ya want more of me too, huh, sweetie?” He makes your ears ring and hot, throwing your head back when he spits and sucks on your clit harshly.

This time, Toji straightens his back a bit to lift your legs with him, hands securing you close to him on your hips. It was a view you hadn’t mentally prepared for, seeing your weight be supported easily.

He continues to lap around your labia, taking in all the excess slick to suck on, not leaving any drop go undiscovered. His precision has you roll your eyes to the ceiling, a hand griping on his wrist as he rubs on your clit.

“Ohhhfuuuck,” your words were slurring together, brain too mushy to cooperate and form eligible sentences. The man between your legs makes that hard enough. You don’t even attempt to squirm out because Toji’s lips will latch right back onto you. “Daddyyy, right there…More, pleasee.”

“Good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with swirls circling your clitoris before a suck, and your legs cross around to push him further. “That’s my girl…Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ, taste too good…” His deep voice sends vibrations up your spine, chewing on your lip when his tongue nestles in between your soaked folds again.

He pushes the wet muscle back inside, groaning at the sensation of you clamping onto him and bucking your hips in his direction. Your cries fill the quiet space, his name coming out in rushed prayers was the only thing that occupies his eardrums. Fuck, he missed this so fucking bad, arms wrapping around your waist as he pushes his face deep, his nose bumping to the hoop of your pearl while he ravishes your insides.

The squelches of his tongue and lips are so raunchy and nasty, you feel like filth being used like this. You’ve long given up the control to conceal your moans, and Toji listens to every single one with intent.

“—Ohhh! Ffsshiiit…!” Oh, no. You can feel it, the next wave climbing up. “Daddy, again! Gonna cum again, I cann’t...!”

“Yes, you can, mama,” he coos, blowing on your slick-covered lips. “Just a lil’ more fr’ me, ‘kay? Just let it out.” His mouth returns to erratically fuck you with his tongue, and his gruff moans are felt on your body. The pressure of your thighs squeezing him makes it better, hitting your delicate clit with gentle jabs that rock you into your third orgasm.

You scream, unleashing yourself as your climax rocks your being. Toji has a good hold on you, softly using the flat of his tongue to lazily lick your cunt, massaging your waist as your hips ride on his face. And it doesn’t help that the older man’s cock is oozing on his briefs, his thighs twitching with his erection wanting to be freed.

With a dangerous last kiss to your sensitive folds, Toji places your legs back onto the couch, wiping your come off his chin to lick his fingers clean before bringing his jeans and briefs.

“Wh..What’s gotten into you,” you ask with furrowed brows and hooded eyes like his, both misty with wanton thirst. “I see you’ve been more pent up than me.” He chortles at your jest, and you happily accept the tip of his cock into your mouth with a blissful hum.

“You have no idea, baby…”

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bratbby333 · 20 hours

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your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking.

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you.

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing.

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable.

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!”

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!”

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it.

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was.

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism.

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her.

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating.

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all.

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again.

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it.

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right?

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing?

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure.

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah.

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all.

But so what? That's what friends are for.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls.

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were.

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away.

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way.

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together.

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late.

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress.

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings.

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you.

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right?

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble.

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce.

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them.

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on. A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?”

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin.

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you.

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours.

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be.

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all.

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you.

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru.

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his.

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

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alexiswritergirl · 2 days

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“I have a crush on my wife”

“I have a crush on my wife.” He thinks to himself.

If he were to say this out loud, people would tell him “Well duh, you love her”, but having a crush is different from loving someone.

For him, he can never get enough of you because every second, it’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

You make him so giddy and nervous to the point where the constant feeling of butterflies is the only thing that makes him feel truly alive.

Every day is like a battle with several questions, like “How did I get so lucky” kind of questions, that are cramped inside his head, while every night is like a dream when you are in his arms.

His eyes always find their way to yours, completely mesmerized by you. He’ll have this curious look on his face, wondering what that pretty mind of yours is thinking about. And then he’ll quickly look away when you catch him staring.

Every time his phone buzzes, he instantly checks and hopes it’s you.

He is absolutely delusional for you. Always playing scenarios in his head where you go on dates, what he should say to you when he comes home, how much he wants to hold you….the list goes on and on.

He spends hours in front of the mirror to look just right because he knows you deserve the best. He’ll carefully readjust his collar multiple times and brush his hair just right, so he can look charming only for you.

He’ll never get used to how his name rolls off your tongue so perfectly or how pretty your lips look when you say I love you.

When he first met you, it was scary to think he developed a crush on someone. He didn’t know what to do and that ate him up every night.

Now, he sits beside you on the couch, stealing quick glances at you as you watch TV. He still can’t believe that you both have been married for 5 years now because it all feels like a fuzzy dream. He’ll awkwardly wrap his arm around your shoulders as if this were a first date. Even though you’re just wearing sweatpants and a stained t-shirt, his heart still beats fast for you.

When you turn to face him, his face flushes and he freezes. You giggle at him and ask him to pass you the remote. He complies and starts to feel antsy from the way your fingertips graze his skin when you’re just grabbing the remote from him.

He’ll then give you the “I want to lean in and kiss you” look, and when you finally notice those shy hints and give him what he’s been wishing for this whole time, time will utterly freeze over the both of you.

You have no idea what you do to him.

RIN, HIORI, Tokimitsu, NESS, ISAGI, NIKO, Yukimiya, Bachira, Chigiri, (pre-wd) Kunigami, Raichi, Kurona, Reo

#blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bachira meguru x reader #hiori yo x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #reo mikage x reader #niko x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #kunigami x reader #tokimitsu x reader #raichi x reader #kurona x reader #Alexis Ness x reader #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock headcanons

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kisses4kaia · 3 days

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plsss I NEED switch!Patrick x switch!Reader with like, him being dominant in the beginning and sub in the end, with them mentioning art the whole time trying to make each other jealous about him? Idk if it make sense but kinda like when tashi was saying patrick should be intimidated by art except in that case they both had sex with him (separately) and they're more like "yeah? can art make you cum this fast hm?" etc

okay👍👍👍👍👍(im actually drooling this is so good ty angelnon)

“on his birthday, i fucked him so good he forgot his own name,” patrick boasted, pressing hot, angry, open-mouthed kisses to your puffy lips. “i do that everyday,” you breath out, pulling your shorts down desperately, throwing them somewhere obscured in your tiny dorm. he’d already undressed amidst the heat of your quarreling, and you were grateful. you didn’t know how long you could wait and stay sane before he would finally fuck you.

patrick huffs from above you, throwing your leg over his shoulder and bullying his unfairly sized cock into your cunt. he’s ramming into you at such a speed where you can hardly feel when he’s snapping his hips back and at what point does he push back in. “i fuck him better, i fuck him so much better,” is all you can mutter out, tugging on patrick’s hair as your hips grind up onto his un-groomed pelvis, unable to get close enough to him. “mm-mm, nope. have you ever made him cum dry? i have.”

“he ever let you film him?” is your rebuttal, smirking cruelly at patrick as he nearly whimpers at your confession; he makes a mental note to himself to ensure he sees it—by any means necessary.

patrick quickly finds himself getting lost in the heat of it all, the brutal nips at his throat upon dipping his head in the crook of your neck make him melt.

he’s made himself pliable enough for you to ease his full weight onto you with no protest. he whines as you slip his cock out of you, but his head stays buried in the junction between your head and shoulder. your hand slides between the two of you, tugging at his cock and using your free hand to prompt him to look you in the eye.

“you wanna come?” you falsely pout at the darkened blue eyes boring into yours. “mhm, yes. please,” he says, not really begging because he knows you would never deny him an orgasm… right?

“say you can’t fuck him like i can.” your voice is completely devoid of any of the sweetness dripping from it just moments ago. patrick shakes his head ‘no’, resulting in a harsh tug on his scalp. “so what i’m hearing is you really want me to get up and make you watch me get myself off, and then leave? that’s what you want, patrick?”

he shakes his head fervently, “no, no, no, please,” if he’s begging to cum or begging to change the conditions, you don’t know, but you cup your palm over patrick’s flushed tip regardless, circling over it and making him squirm atop you.

“say it.”

“i can’t fuck him like you can! fuck, you’re better than me, so much fucking better. please, i wanna cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease—“

he’s had enough, you’d decided. “cum, patrick.”

those words have him unraveling, a load unlike one you’ve ever seen comes out of him, shooting all over his and your bare stomachs and your hand.

his dick fucks into your hand languidly as he rides out his own climax. you make sure to clean him up with your mouth, and patrick’s fingers drive you to your finish.

and when the high is gone and the smell of sex in lingering in your dorm, you fall asleep on your friend’s chest.

little do you know, when patrick is sure you’re asleep, he grabs your phone, punches in tashi’s birthday for your password, and opens your camera roll. he’s only looking for one thing when he not only finds the amateur film, but also photos of his girlfriend’s naked body splayed out on the very bed he lie on now.

he looks at you no different the next morning.

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fixyourwritinghabits · 1 day

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Post NaNoWriMo - Now What?

So if you've only been loosely paying attention, the NaNoWriMo organization has collapsed in a controversy of mismanagement, lack of oversight, abusive forum moderation and a whole host of issues that's resulted in souring the whole thing for a great deal of people. While the spirit of NaNoing will probably continue, a lot of people understandably don't want anything to officially do with the organization anymore.

But you - like I have - still think NaNoWriMo has been very useful to get writing done. Here's some ideas on how to keep going.

How to Get Started

Think Local - All those places you used for NaNo events, libraries, schools, cafes, etc - may be more than willing to launch something similar with enough interest. Just because it won't have the NaNoWriMo name slapped on it doesn't meant it can't continue. My local library has started a monthly write-in event, for example.

Take the Initiative - If you know of a group that you usually NaNo with, it's never too late or early to reach out to them about create an alternative plan. You probably aren't the only one thinking about it!

Talk to your (former) ML - Many Municipal Liaisons I know feel burned by NaNo and won't join it again, but they did love running the event. My local ML is continuing our group under a different name, and yours might appreciate getting assistance or sharing resources about how to run a month-long writing event if you ask.

Find Your People - If you're in school, new to an area, or just not good at reaching out, I feel you. But if you do nothing, you get nothing. Reach out to people you know. Online Discord or Zoom meetings can work just as well as in-person events if you're too remote or broke to meet.

What to Use to Get Started

Shut up and Write provides quick and easy ways to find local groups or form your own to carry the write-in momentum all year round.

MyWriteClub copies the writing tracking method of NaNoWriMo to keep track of your wordcount.

Pacemaker Planner offers multiple ways to track your writing.

Regular old Excel. Or LibreOffice if you'd prefer to wash your hands of Microsoft. It's not as exciting, but a regular spreadsheet with an AutoSum of your daily progress can work just as well as a fancy website.

You can keep going with the NaNo energy without the official name. My local library has started a monthly write-in, and I know many people who have found success with Shut Up and Write. Look into what works for you!

#NaNoWriMo #writing groups #it's always okay to NaNo without NaNo

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undercoverpena · 1 day

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12. stormy sky

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter twelve of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.6k chapter warnings: anxious!reader. allusions to bad mental health day/sadness. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is dedicated to all those who sometimes just need a day, a hug and a love. i see you, and i love you (notes at the bottom).

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It wasn’t often you felt the storm coming before it arrived.

At times, it was kind enough to make itself more obviously known than on other occasions. Sometimes, it just happened, almost beyond your control—a feeling that wells up inside, leaving you in a funk for a day or two.

An unexplainable force that commands you to smile outwardly but crumble inwardly.

Then, you rise again the next morning, or in a few, completely anew—like nothing had ever happened.

Occasionally, it rides in on unexplainable sadness that follows you like a rain cloud, spreading out into swelling grief that chokes you from the inside out. Other times, it would be a headache that bloomed behind your eyes into something uncontrollable, unmanageable, that only settled with bedsheets and darkness.

As soon as the email appeared in your inbox, you felt the latter. It throbbing, pulsing—beginning somewhere between your second to final nerve.

Things shifting; a wave forming. One which rose inside of you when you weren’t aligning with the person you were working with. It growing. Swelling. Expanding inside of you to the point you were sure it was going to dislodge bone and deform you forever. The words on the screen slowly blur, barely discernible as sentences and not just another paragraph of failure.

You knew this could happen. From time to time creative visions weren't always going to align. A thing you reminded yourself of regularly, routinely. Telling yourself it in the shower, mirror or as you make your third coffee past midnight.

It never does lessen the sting, though.

Just like now, when your hand can't seem to stop slamming the lid of your laptop shut, or when you find yourself nervously nursing your lower lip between your teeth, a bubbling sensation begins within. Your mind fractures, allowing a flood of negative thoughts to pour forth, corroding, spewing and slathering itself over everything good.

You clutch at your phone, feeling the rubber of your case. Not even thinking; not even checking the time—just calling.

And hoping.

Waiting.

As soon as you hear his sunshine-like voice say your name and 'Are you okay?' (practically spoken as one word), you feel yourself take a breath.

Becoming aware, only then, of how damp your cheeks are, that your hand is shaking as he repeats the question, more gently, less dunked in worry.

Surprisingly, it feels easy to say no. To unravel silently to him as he asks you a question you rarely have been asked: 'Do you want to talk about it or something different?'

It’s small, a simple thing. But your heart swells. Your shoulders unlodge themselves from your ears and your spine softens, making the choice, all with far too much ease. Taking in the sound of his voice as he clears it, you hear him ask lowly and gruffly if you're comfortable before he begins explaining how he has a non-permanent tattoo of a creature on his arm.

Not a dinosaur, Rainy. Not even something born or created from Jurassic Park—and how he was worried that due to its placement, people would think Harold’s had become rougher, more dangerous business.

“Dangerous?”

You swear you hear him shrug. “People might see me, all tattooed up and think the worst of the place.”

Giggling, your fingers massage your head. “Where is it?”

“Guess.”

For a brief moment, like when light shines from behind the clouds, you grin. Guessing, naming body parts you know it couldn’t be, but only to hear his laugh—bathe in the joy that he can only summon, rinse your woes in it in the hope tomorrow you wake lighter.

“Ass.”

“They’d definitely think Harold’s had fucking changed if my ass is out baby.”

Smirking, climbing into bed (his advice, one you happily took). “I think I’d visit more. It’s peachy.”

Peachy he scoffs, but you swear he’s grinning. Adjusting the t-shirt as you lie down—one of his, stolen (with permission) from the drawer you’d made for him, taking in the scent of him, all musk, wood and man as you welded it with the voice as you discover it’s on his cheek.

“How are you going to explain that one?”

His laugh flows down the phone, meeting your ear as you lean against your pillows, trying (with all that you have) to almost convince yourself that he was here—and not streets and streets away.

Morning, guess what doesn’t come off with soap and a scrub? A monster.

Hope you slept okay, baby. Can bring a coffee round on my break. Can even see if I can sweet-talk a larger one for you. Put it in a flask.

Rainy, you awake?

Baby I don’t mean to worry, I bet you’re fine, just busy caught up in doing work, but just let me know you’re okay.

I have the spare key still from that delivery. If you don’t want to see me, tell me.

You’re not sure of the time—drifting on wood out at the sea of your own making. Having done so for a while.

Distantly aware of the passing of time. That it was no longer 3 am, which had been the last time you'd last checked the time. The sun is far too bright through your curtains; desperate to claw its fingers in and yank you from your sheets.

It doesn't, can't.

Instead, you're floating; lost somewhere between awake and asleep—only being disturbed, rocked from it, at the sound of your front door opening. The stiffness of the door, the squeak of a floorboard. All things which should fill you with alarm, but barely make your head move.

Because it's thumping.

Pounding.

Too much stuffed in there to do anything but lie there. Split at the seams, the rest of you shaken like a snow globe.

It crosses your mind—briefly—that if they were here to rob you, they’d find very little to take. If they were here for you, they were most definitely mistaken. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even if your ears are tuning, trying to twist to each noise, only relaxing when you hear the intruder mutter fuck.

Because you know that fuck. Know the exact voice as though it lives in your head with the one that wouldn't quiet at 3 am.

For the most part, you have to admit Frankie is quiet. A skill he likely gained from his former life, the one where it was a necessity. He just didn’t know your home. You only being able to tell he’s here from the little things, like that he’s not completely aware your front door gets a little stuck when it’s really warm and that some floorboards are looser than others.

In the same way, he doesn’t know that if you open your partially shut bedroom door slowly, it groans like it’s being personally offended—

“Mierda.”

You’re sure you croak a Hi Frankie.

You think it anyway; wanting to give an invitation to come closer, to move further in as your eyes try to focus on the money tree named Moana. With each blink, the leaves slowly come into focus as you begin to adapt to the brightness cast in by, what you now assume must be the afternoon. Blinking when you see him crouch down, all soft curls and silky brown eyes.

“You worried me.”

Swallowing, struggling to shove the dryness back, you clear your throat. “Headache.”

He’s gentle, slowly placing his palm on the side of your head, thumb brushing over the skin above your brow as he shifts in his crouched position. “Worse than that time you told me about?”

“About the same.”

It’s quiet, the way he answers with okay. Thumb doing a final swipe before you hear a pop of his knee as he stands, a mumble of Be right back, baby before the floorboards creek and you can hear him opening and closing cupboards in your kitchen. With a sigh, you close your eyes briefly, being roused by a gentle breeze caressing your cheek to find he'd returned, a glass of water in one hand and a crinkling packet in the other.

“Do you want to get in?”

“Sure,” he says, in the familiar deep voice—as you shuffle with ease.

Not daring to lift your head, to move too quickly or violently. The mattress dips as the bed groans when he throws his feet up, sliding into the warmth you’ve been creating for hours, finding his eyes—how that worry is still there. It swirling, likely mixing with the gold flecks and deep browns you admire every chance you can get.

You worry you've spoiled them, tainted them. Made them swirl with sadness caused by worry. And the thought makes your insides hum, as though someone has plucked all your strings. The twang of it trying to mix with the other emotions you don't feel equipped to unpiece.

“I’m s—”

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, firmly. Not accompanied by any smile.

A thing you know he means when he asks you, voice wrapped in satin, if you can take a sip for him. His arm slides around you, trying to pull you close as you do more than that, but rather consume, drain, and finish the glass.

When you hand it back, you think about the fact that a you with your head not coming apart might have teased him, might even throw your leg over his and asked him if he thinks sex gets rid of migraines like it does headaches. But, the words catch, stick and clag to the roof of your mouth.

Something rising, the emotions you’d shoved down trying to weave up. Climb. Stick their spikes into your oesophagus and crawl out your mouth. That is, until his palm spreads out, the width of his fingers sliding further up and along your spine. The act aiding you, guiding you to take a measured breath. One that stammers, hammers. One that floods inside of your chest, rising and rising like it wishes to crash against a beach and take everything to shore—

But, then it eases, calms.

All being gobbled back up, calmer waves lapping as you shift, seeing him lit by muffled, golden yellow. Listening to his heart, the breaths he takes as you try to follow them—even the scratching of his beard as he tucks himself closer and asks nothing, except silently, to be here.

Eventually, when you stop counting seconds, the quiet is broken—not rudely, or unnecessarily, but just with: “What can I do?”

“You’ve done it.”

Turning to see him—to find the gaze you know will already be on you. To look at the face you think of and have truthfully only wanted to see, there. You begin to explain, letting it all unravel, it unspooling from your tongue. Maybe sharing too much, like that no one you’ve dated has shown up like this before, and that you don’t ever expect him to do it again.

Shifting closer, as you continue talking, eyes closed to not aggravate what is trying to lessen, as you add extra context, sharing what happens, that you’re okay—but that sometimes you’re not. Statements, mainly. Likely broken sentences you somehow mash into paragraphs. Filling in the gaps, from the last weeks to now, to the email and then the call. How it happened—

“Maybe it’s because I’m happy.”

“Hmm?”

Shrugging gently against him, your chest fills with air before you exhale it in one long drag through your nose. “Maybe because I’m happy, my work isn’t that good.”

“Maybe.” His fingers find your chin, turning your eyes to his. “Or maybe he’s got very high expectations and the two of you just aren’t a good fit.”

Chewing your lip, you lower your gaze. “Yeah, maybe.” Unconsciously turning into the palm resting on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as you dare yourself to find his eyes. “I really hate people sometimes.”

Snorting, you feel his lips press to your forehead. “Let me tell you about this fucking asshole who tried to tell me the white paint he was buying wasn’t white.”

You press yourself closer to him ready to listen, hand sliding across his middle as you grasp more of his shirt, finding the smallest smile trying to crack through.

The next time you wake it’s to the smell of breakfast.

There's humming too, occasional words floating from the kitchen through the open door of your bedroom.

A coy smile already tugging across your cheek, the storm having waned, moved to the distance. But still, you test to see if it's safe as you lift from the pillows—sleep rubbed from your eyes as you spot the crumpled side of the bed. See the empty glass you’d drank before he held you, the jacket he’d been wearing when he’d showed up impromptu folded on the floor near the dresser.

Then, the grossness hits. The awareness that your skin feels claggy and awful, shuffling your feet from the bed, all the way to your bathroom.

His t-shirt peels from you with reluctance. The sadness eventually glides down the drain as the water falls down your skin—stepping out feeling refreshed.

Smiling as you head down the hallway, not forcing a smile as you slide your hands around his waist, fingers moving under the band of his tee, as they stroke over soft, warm skin and the dark hairs that swirl across his middle.

“Thank you,” you say, the words so large you hope they land with the weight you intend them to.

He turns and kisses you, whispering a don't against your minty mouth. Hovering for a moment there, before his mouth finds you again, more hungry, more laced with words as he presses you against the counter. Nowhere to go as he tilts your chin up. “You're worth showing up for, Rainy.”

You swear your heart triples in size as you bury your face in his tee and grin something stupid against him as he continues to sing whatever is playing out loud on his phone.

Do we need to go furniture shopping before or after you put the shelving in?

Probably before in case we need to order things. How’s your mini project coming along?

Well, I followed this tutorial by this very handsome man, and it seems easy to do, but my kitchen shelf isn’t straight.

Did you follow all of the instructions?

Now why would you assume I didn’t?

Because it sounds like you didn’t make sure it was level, baby.

Rude.

But did you?

I may have assumed that my eyesight was good.

How many holes do I need to fill in?

Oh, just the one.

In the wall.

Oh. Eight.

Since the moment he picked you up, you've been buzzing with excitement, just as you have been all week since he told you where he was taking you.

A skip in your step when you locked your door, the sun warming your skin in the short walk to the door he'd opened for you. Remembering how he teased you on the phone last night—you made a Pinterest board of what it could look like?—as you sat cross-legged on the couch, listening to him, shaking your head at the camera.

He handed you the coffee—brewed and made by him—only when you were seated. Another thing you were also sure had added to the swirling excitement in your stomach.

The drive, thankfully, hadn't been long. Undoing your belt when he kills the engine, his palm pressing down on your knee.

“No plants.”

“Are you asking me, or are you telling me?”

Leaning across the centre of his vehicle, he pulls your lips to his. “A very polite ask.”

“You don’t fancy your own Benedict or Henry?”

The tip of his nose touching yours, “I really don’t.”

You suggested other names as the two of you walked to the store's entrance, hand slotting inside his. Only silencing from your torment when your footsteps echoed softly against the glossy tile floors—blending with the rumbles of distant, murmured conversations, phone rings and furniture being rearranged.

Suddenly, the two of you were enveloped in the scents of polished wood and fresh upholstery, a scent you’re sure you used to like, but now really freaking loved.

Because this place is nice. The soft glow of overhead lights bathed the showroom in a warm, inviting ambience—casting a gentle spotlight on each carefully curated display. It was a scene straight out of a home decor magazine—every homeowner's dream.

"C'mon, Rainy," he coos, guiding.

Adding a soft this way from the back of his throat, becoming aware of his fingers brushing over the back of your jeans—along the pockets, along the expanse of your ass as you eye him, finding that same shy smirk that could explode into something more devilishly and ridiculously hard to resist.

A thing he already is without trying.

A thing which worsens when his arm comes around and keeps your side flush to his as the two of you make the way to the rows and rows of desks.

It makes sense to begin here.

To choose the ‘centrepiece’ of the room—as Frankie had explained on the drive—because everything has to fit around it. A thing you’d teased that you thought he was good at making things fit. To which he’d, playfully, replied that he was good, but he wasn’t fit-a-desk-and-a-dresser-an-armchair-and-shelving-good. A thing you'd promptly argued.

Stepping from his side, fingers brushing over the top of one, you glance over at them all. How they’re all vying for your attention, each with a unique allure. From sleek modern to rustic wood.

Catching Frankie's eye and with a mischievous grin, you take a seat behind one of the desks.

“Frank DIY’s office, how I can hammer you a good time today?” you say into the faux telephone, “Oh, I am sure Mr Morales would be able to… bend over and get himself in—I mean, you in.”

Frankie shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you get up and sit behind another, typing on the desk as a keyboard, pretending to stare at the unplugged monitor that had no computer with it. Then moving to another, one with a desk mat and no other items than a plant that looks chewed by tiny teeth, before pulling yourself on the wheels behind one with drawers and a keyboard but nil else.

“Oh, hello sir. Your 2 o’clock is here.”

“Is that right?” he asks, folding his arms. “What am I doing for this appointment?”

Smirking, fingers poised over the keys. “They wish to know how to check if a desk is stable. For two people.”

You hear him take in a breath. Lips threatening to spread into a smirk before he clears his throat. “To work at?”

Shaking your head, you grin.

“I’ll have to call my assistant in. She’s a handful, bad with drilling, but, she can help me.”

Laughing, almost hiccuping from it, he stares down at you—palms still very flat against the desk—as it fades and spreads into a smile that hurts your cheeks. “There it is.”

“There’s what?”

“My smile.”

Eyes widening, you snort. “Your smile?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Mine.”

Rolling your lips, standing from the wheely chair, you raise your brows. Moving around the edge, fingers dancing along the wood until you’re standing perfectly in front of him—eyeing him, as always unable to take your eyes from him.

“I think I like this one,” you add, running the tips of your fingers over the smooth surface of the desk. “There’s no price though—or sizing.”

Frankie glances at it, eyes flicking from each of the sides as he likely does math gymnastics. “You’ll have a lot of space for your dresser—the butterscotch one.”

“You just know that do you?”

“Grab a measuring tape and I’ll confirm it,” he grins.

Hand on hip, you arch a brow as Frankie's laughter fills the air, but you can see it in his eyes, the challenge.

“Get it yourself, Morales.”

Pinching your ass, he walks around it. “I’ll remember that.”

Shaking your head, he snaps a photo of the desk—staring at his screen to check it before locking it. His hand offered to you.

“Chairs?”

Leaning close, voice dropping, you—all velvet-like— whisper, “Your face not on offer when I’m working?”

Pink spreads up his neck, tongue clicking against his teeth, he smiles. Grins. His fingers tighten around yours as you’re sure his eyes actually sparkle. “From the way you weren’t able to form sentences last time, not sure you’d get much work done.”

The chairs, for how colourful and varying they were, felt less fun than desk shopping. Most of them were out of reach, high up on shelves—having to assess whether they were as comfortable as they looked or if it was a lie. A game that got less and less fun the more you trailed.

Frankie, likely guessing your joy was wavering, grabbed a basket at some point—allowing you to peruse the mini plant aisles and other decorative things. For your shelves, he said, for the shelves, you replied, grinning, even as you grabbed a particularly wiry cactus you named Cisco.

“You think you’ve got at least one of everything in here?”

Fake laughing, your elbow confidently finds his side—hearing a gruff huff from him. “Almost. I just need—”

Eyes spotting it, body moving all of its own accord as though the required item had been lit under a spotlight and heaven-like noises had begun playing. Fingers gliding over each, brushing over fleece fluff that left marks of your touch, to more knitted, firmer types, too many choices all to be shared at, contemplated.

You feel it before you see it. Pain flaring from your side as your head whips—meeting the disgruntled face of another shopper, the end of their cart still firmly against your side as though somehow, you were the one who was required to move. Even after he’d practically rammed the cart into you.

“Hey man, watch it,” Frankie says, arm sliding around you, pulling you close.

The smallest of gaps made, created, between yourself and the offending cart. The pain throbbing, the embarrassment simmering, as you fight rubbing the impacted sight as it continued to pound, hearing:

And maybe, if you had looked across, you would have seen the man scoff—observed the expression that made Frankie tense even more protectively next to you You would have noticed why his usually soft smile shifted into a thin line as a storm brewed inside of him before you heard:

“She's the one in the way.”

An adult-like response if you've ever heard one. A thing you shake your head at, but reach your hand up to touch Frankie's chest, tapping lightly as you watch him visibly swallow whatever had been about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he mutters a few choice curses under his breath, shooting a silent but determined look to the person as they mumbled the most pathetic apology known.

But, you didn’t, don’t.

Because, if you had, you'd have missed the way it all vanished when his eyes met yours. How it was erased, wiped all clean. Every affliction on his face, from the hardened eyes to the twitch of his nose, slipped away back to its recess.

“You alright, baby?”

Not one blame placed on you; not even a thought to do so, as his knuckles brush your cheek.

“I’m fine, Butterscotch. It's nice to meet protective you, though.” His eyes shifting from you quickly, the deepest of reds flooding his ears, you flatten your hand to his chest. “I appreciate it.”

Meeting your stare, he swallows. “You sure you're okay?”

Biting the inside of your cheek when his palm, warm and spreading heat, begins stroking over the offended area, you nod. Grinning.

Because if anything, you're pretty sure you might be in love with him.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

notes: i've drip fed rainy's difficult client for a few chapters now, as well as her little wobbles with anxiety. i know this isn't everyone's experience, but i think we can all relate to those days when getting out of bed just feels hard. i hope you're all okay, and just know i'm always here. no one is ever alone when the grey clouds are overhead, even if they clouds hope to make us feel that way. ily all, jo.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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gayhoediaz · 9 hours

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hello nie 👋

what is buck and tommy's first major argument about + how does it end 🎤

ohhhh jack this is such a good question!! ♡

i had to sit back and think a little bit, but what i came up with us that i think it would honestly just come down to both of them having a bad day and i think they deal with those in completely different ways. at this point, i think they have been together in a serious relationship for a decent amount of time - maybe six months or so? and i think they become very serious very quickly so six months is certainly long enough that they’re starting to feel more comfortable that the other person isn’t going anywhere, and you know how sometimes you lash out at the person you know is going to stay? yeah.

because of his childhood, i headcanon tommy as someone who finds solace in solitude, and while i think there are certainly times where he craves affection and company, i think it’s just as common that he just. needs to be alone. i think he knows that if he doesn’t get that alone time, his frustration is going to get directed at people who haven’t done anything to deserve it, and he’s certainly responsible enough to handle that and prevent it.

now, buck? buck is someone who we know to seek comfort in the people he loves. we have seen him go to eddie, to maddie, to hen, to bobby, and so on - he is just someone who needs to talk, and to feel embraced and listened to, and loved.

and tommy would absolutely be his first choice at this point - not only because he’s his boyfriend, but because tommy is tommy. he’s older, and he’s smart, and he’s kind, and he’s caring, and he always says what buck needs to hear. he never makes buck feel as if he’s too much, or too needy.

never.

until.

their awful, terrible, nightmarish days happen to fall on the same day.

i don’t think either of them are awful to each other, there’s absolutely no name calling, or cursing each other out, but they just kind of… clash. i think buck really wants to just go home and sit on the couch with tommy and watch a movie (love actually is just fine because he loves watching tommy watch it) and it’s not that tommy doesn’t want that, he just needs to be alone first.

and i think this would be perfectly fine if they communicated - but they don’t. i don’t think they have the energy to do that, so it just kind of ends up being a mess where buck misses him and wants him to come over, and feels a little blown off (i don’t think tommy ghosts him but maybe his texts are a little more chilly than they usually are) while tommy feels frustrated because - he’ll be there in a few hours, if evan can just calm down and leave him alone, he’ll be fine and he’ll hold him because he needs that too, but just. not right now. (again, i think tommy isn’t as cold as buck feels he is, and buck isn’t nearly as clingy as tommy feels, i think it’s just completely exaggerated in their own heads because they’re already upset for reasons that don’t have anything to do with each other.)

this is just the pre-argument, though. i think the real argument comes later, when tommy comes over to the loft (and at this point, he’s calmed down, he’s fine, he just wants to have a good night with his boyfriend and listen to him talk about his bad day, because now he’s been alone for a while so he has the energy to do so.) and he realizes that there is still friction between them - because here’s the thing:

we have only really seen tommy from buck’s pov this go-around, and that’s why he feels so… perfect? in a lot of ways? and again, i don’t think that buck is in any way upset that tommy couldn’t come over the second he needed him - he’s a grown man, he’s fine - but i think it’s the way that he felt tommy kind of blowing him off, and not communicating. i think it makes him feel annoyed and ignored (valid) and i think it kind of drags tommy down from this pedestal he has had him on?

in the end, i think tommy snaps and i think that’s exactly what he says - something along the lines of “i’m not perfect” etc etc. and i think they argue for a while, but they ultimately end up working things out that very night. i think tommy genuinely apologizes, and so does buck - i think buck reluctantly confesses that although he has grown a lot, and worked on himself, and become more confident, he does still ultimately have this fear of being too much, and i think tommy’s face just. softens, and he tells him that he never wants him to feel that way, and that he wasn’t and would never be annoyed with buck wanting or needing him around - it was just… everything else, and terrible timing, and bad communication. and then i think tommy explains some things about his childhood that helps buck understand why he may need to be alone sometimes, and how that’s how he finds comfort and makes peace with a bad day.

in the end, they ultimately know and understand each other so much better, and they make a vow to just. communicate. and they’re falling even deeper in love with each other.

#nie answers 💕#mutuals 🏷️#jack 🎑#niesmeta

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enchantressiren · 5 hours

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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐌𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠.❞

What is sexually appealing about you? + channeled song(s)

Subliminal channel | Masterlist

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Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition. Question credit: @earthling-cravings, thank you

Normal intuitive readings: @sefinaa

Divider

Pile I

I hear your tongue is sexually appealing, so my intuition tells me that you have a tongue piercing or that it’s split. For those who split their tongue, you did it unintentionally while drunk and regret it, but people think it is hot. You are attracting a lot of people because of that, especially if you are into women. My intuition tells me that it is a great way to please someone with a pussy because it is similar to having two tongues. For those of you who have a piercing on your tongue, people like the feeling or texture when you give oral. People will find it very sexy if you do not do one-night stands because you are defying society's norms and doing something completely different. Right now, I am horny and have heat around my thighs, and when you are near others, you do the same to them. You make others instantly turn their heads at you because you ooze a rebellious, confident nature; it’s very visible even if you cannot see it. Some of you lack confidence and do not understand what I mean, but that’s because you don’t see your own worth. Intuition tells me that you let others decide for yourself whether or not you should be comfortable in your skin. Do not do that, and stop doing so. I am telling you that you are worth the attention and love given in this reading.

I hear, "I have never had a thing for piercings or split tongues, but whenever I see you coming or walking past me, I get instantly horny and can not control it, so I will go to the restroom or somewhere private and masturbate because of you. What are you doing to me?” The overall energy I feel from other people is that you are an aphrodisiac brownie. Aphrodisiac brownies are a drug that causes someone to increase their lust, pleasure, and skills during sex. You make those around you so horny and sensitive that they cannot control themselves, but do not mistake me for those who have assaulted you. That is not what I meant (please stay safe since I have channeled it has happened before). You make others addicted to that confidence, or, in some cases, since some of you are shy, ''the fake it till you make it’’ confidence. Aphrodisiacs was named after Aphrodite, the goddess of love. You have the same energy as the Greek goddess.

My intuition tells me that people go crazy for you because you go against society. You show intelligence with what you say. You guys are book and street smart at the same time, which makes others want to seek your knowledge and advice. When people do seek your knowledge, you use your gut feelings or the small details they hide—that you have noticed—and see who is worthy of it. As if you are the magical wizard who lends others knowledge they seek. You used to struggle to help everyone with your advice, but you learned how to balance your desire to help others with respect for yourself. You have made a boundary with yourself to never become a doormat again. You are also able to get anything you want. I see a scene appearing in my head where you get arrested by a cop and they push you on their car door. They tell you that you have to remain silently, but you simply mention something to them with a cheeky tone, and they have no choice but to let you go. You can get anything you want by doing nothing; think of it like Simon says, and people will follow through. Even if you were shoplifting, for example, they would have let you go with a simple apology.

Channeled song

Why do you always call me when you’re high? - Arctic Monkeys

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Pile II

Your energy is so sexually appealing that I am blushing and breaking into giggles, wow.

Anyway, everything makes you sexually appealing. Your fashion is amazing—your hair, your nails, your aesthetic, your voice, your charisma, your honesty, etc. Do you know the word perfection, and how have other people said there is no such thing? You are the such thing. I am not sure what it is, but while listening to your channeled song, Unholy by Sam Smith and Kim Petras, I kept blushing, feeling giggly, laughing, and looking away from my wall as if it were someone else, which in this case would be you. I don’t know what you guys do, and I feel like I cannot channel your reading that well because I am blushing, which is funny because others feel the same way. They cannot form words around you because you ooze sex appeal. They are always flustered around you; you could slip and fall, and instead of a negative reaction, even if it’s toxic people around you, they would want to help you and then ask for your number. Like holy shit, your energy is crazy, crazy good.

You earn a lot of compliments because you are known as perfection, or the beauty queen, or the beauty king; this is like the most amazing person in the world, etc., but no one seems to compliment you on your personality, so allow me to be the one. You are aware of how it is with your appearances, but your personality is very sexually appealing because instead of allowing your wrongdoing and your pride to take over, you take accountability and apologize when you are in the wrong. Instead of saying to somebody that you know so much about a specific topic, a field, or a job that you work in, you admit to somebody that you do not know, even if they tell you that you’re lying about this or that you’re not intelligent. Instead of allowing it to hurt you, you just let it go, and you know your worth, and that is what makes you even more attractive. I do not know what it is with you, but my intuition says you were made from the gods, like the shape or sculpture, into one of those Greek gods/goddess statues or beautiful mythology statues. I hear that you are both beautiful inside and out. You are, but your personality is overlooked because, if you are so attractive, how can you have a beautiful personality? Society is very picky with what it wants, and sometimes you get the short end of the stick because no one really appreciates your intelligence. You know how someone can be smart and beautiful at the same time while having an amazing personality? But it doesn’t make sense for society’s term because you must have only one, and if you don't, then you’re weird. This pile is an anomaly for society or for people. When you do readings for yourself or you read the piles, they don’t explain what you’re looking for or what you need to look for, so instead focus on not seeking other people's validation when it comes to your personality traits. You know your worth. Make sure to trust that feeling around others. When the time comes, you will find the magic you wanted for a while.

Coming back, what makes you sexually appealing? Your aura. Your aura is the color of a purple moon that glistens on a riverside. I see people watching the beautiful moment as it calms even the most heartbroken ones, so my intuition tells me that what pulls people in like a moth towards you is your aura, or in this metaphor, you. You take care of yourself, you help others, you don’t seek revenge, you show forgiveness, you are intelligent, and you have healthy morals. You are beautiful both inside and out, or you watch what you eat. Either way, you’re very aligned with your intuition, as you will not admit it, but despite all of that, your aura is being taken care of by all of these activities. And because it is being taken care of the way that it’s supposed to be, you’re able to amplify those beautiful moments that you do with yourself as you push outwards and ooze this sexy energy. I am getting an image of a siren dancing sexually to attract their prey and then leaning in for a kiss and stepping back. A poisonous gas appears in the shape of a skull. The kiss you give to your prey is the genuine love you show others. The poisonous gas is making others addicted to you; they keep coming back for more. Poison takes time to kill someone, and in this example, you are people’s poison, and it slowly affects them into their grave of ecstasy. You are their sexual experience without doing anything but breathing.

Channeled songs

Unholy - Sam Smith and Kim Petras

MORE - K/DA

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Pile III

You guys are great singers. Your vocal cord's range is similar to that of a siren. You draw people in, and they cannot fight it. Think of your favorite singers and those who you admire, and the way you kind of copy their vocal range because you have a desire to have the same music as them. And then imagine being on stage with over 1,000 people watching you in your ideal outfit—something that has been on your mind for years—and you get up and sing just like that person. And as you sing in a way, you control people like you are the puppeteer, and they are your puppets. My intuition tells me what makes you so appealing are your singing abilities. Even for those of you who are shy and do not sing in front of others, people have heard you, and they do not think badly of you. They see you as an amazing singer, with great vocal cords that can beat most singers nowadays, and sometimes they always imagine you singing in front of them in a way that you guys are the most calming person for them. You guys are their ASMR. Instead of meditating or doing a hobby, they would rather just listen to you in general. Another thing that makes you so appealing is the way that you can instantly show confidence, even if you are shy. My intuition tells me that about 95% of you guys are shy people, but when it comes to singing, you instantly become the most confident person in the entire universe. You guys just know this is something that you’re actually passionate about, and sometimes you wonder if you guys are gonna become big, but the thing is, you can only become big if you truly want it.. My intuition tells me, “you must be your own light. You must have your own goals and your own desires. If you do not seek those goals, then how can you become big? How can you gain a positive community if you do not show it to yourselves? The only way you can become big in the music industry is if you open up your heart and allow your happiness to come within.” So my intuition means that you guys sabotage your own happiness and fear of love that comes your way, but in order to achieve your goals and desires, you must open that part of your life and let go. And you must learn to accept that when you guys become big, you do not have to change who you are and follow the trends. Instead, stay true to yourself and appreciate your own beauty, especially your music style. When you do that, that is how you explode into positive fame. I say positive fame because if you were to go down the path you are on as of now, you will have a rocky start, and it’ll be harder to find what you’re looking for. So you must focus on self love, okay? Okay.

The song I channeled for you is Imma Be by the Black Eyed Peas. As the song starts, it keeps repeating “imma be,” my intuition tells me this is you telling your negative thoughts that you’re gonna become this star you desire, and you keep trying to push these thoughts away. Instead, fight them and tell them to fuck off because you deserve better. Try to bring that same confidence you show when singing into your life. Then the song mentions “imma be on the next level.” Intuition tells me that once you are able to achieve these two, you will be on the next level, aka going to your goals and having them with you. You truly are going to become big, but you must work on yourself first. You cannot manifest well if you do not love yourself and focus on healing. It becomes harder since listening to doubts becomes easier for the brain, so focus on healing. I know this is supposed to be a sexy reading, but it’s advice, I won’t apologize since this is what you guys need to hear. Anyways, the song says “imma be the future” and that’s how you guys will be. The future person that changes the music industry with you desires “doin’ whatever you like.” So.. keep going forward with your goals and keep healing, and then eventually you guys can make people become fucking aroused by your singing voice because that’s what intuition is telling me. Also, when you guys do become popular, I hear that you guys will be known for having one of the hottest singing voices.

Channeled songs

Imma be - Black Eyed Peas

Closer - Ne-yo

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nisuna · 1 day

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Hi hello everyone<3 I'm so sorry for disappearing for a whole two months 🥲 Some of you may have seen the post about me breaking my tail bone ha ha..

I was just feeling so deflated and uninspired... HOWEVER, the love for my cult!leader!Geto x non!sorcerer!f!reader AU won after all!!! I just have to release everything I have planned for this timeline, ehe it's so precious to me🫶🏻

I have been reading A LOT of manhwas recently, and yesterday's chapter just made me want to write again, yaaayy

So I present to you part two of the smut adventures of cult leader geto 🥰 Hope you enjoy!!

Check out the cult leader headcannons here!<3 and Part 1 here

TW: public sex, soft geto????, calling him by his first name:))), different positions, biting, unprotected sex; he still calls you pet, of course; voyeurism, 1k words

<3masterlist<3

Cult leader Geto just couldn't get enough of you. Once he got a taste, he would continue fucking you all throughout the whole day. So it was just one of those days. Having everyone watch you whimper and squirm in pleasure just spurred his excitement on impossibly more. He never considered voyeurism to be his thing, but you have opened his eyes to many new things. Most importantly, you didn't even realise how strong of a grip you actually had on him.

There was nothing unusual about today's session in front of everyone. You looked and sounded breathtaking while laying beneaty him, exposed for everyone to see while panting his name. The first time he fucked you in front of everyone you were beyond embarassed. You kept hiding and looking for reassurance that never came. But now you were letting it all out. All shame was thrown out of the window, instead replaced by pure lust. You were getting off on being watched.

"Mhhh~~ Geto-sama!!", you kept screaming while he pounded away at your sopping wet cunt.

Everyone called him Geto-sama. Hearing you moan it was nothing out of the ordinary. However, today, that name just wasn't doing it for him. But he pushed those thoughts away as swiftly as they appeared and continued with his ministrations.

Later that day you were still helplessly sobbing that darn "Geto-sama" you have been doing while getting fucked in front of his followers.

Weirdly enough, he was actually getting sick of it. Hearing his title slip through your kiss-swollen lips reminded him of all of his followers. It was getting distracting at this point, so he swiftly picked you up and sat you back down on his lap.

As he was bottoming out, another trembling chant of his name made its way out of your mouth.

"AH- Geto-sama" you mumbled, back arching and nails digging into his firm back.

"Enough of that, pet!", he he raised his voice in annoyance while squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers. You were definitely caught off guard, shrieking in fear. "Did-I do anyfing -rong?? 'Msory Geto-sa- ow", you slurred, eyes trembling with fear but couldn't finish as his grip on your jaw only tightened. He was starting to hurt you, but you were too scared to resist.

He kept a fist-full of your face while pulling your face in front of his. He kept you in his grasp for what felt like forever burning holes into you with his sharp eyes. You stayed silent throughout.

After minutes of silence, he finally let go of you. You could feel the burning sensation his fingerprints left on your face but didn't dare to move despite the pain. You've learned the hard way to never pull away from him.

"Try Suguru.", he said monotonously, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up in amusement for a split second.

You looked at him with a confused stare, mumbling "Sugu-", before you could finish, you slapped a hand over your mouth with a loud gasp. That was his first name. "Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too -"

Your distressed voice did arouse him, but it also made him want to soothe your worried expression. Another eye-opening experience he's never had with his followers before meeting you, compassion. He didn't dwell on it for long, though, and just interrupted.

"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it.", his voice sounded awfully soft and genuine all of a sudden. Like he was desperately yearning for you to say it.

Has he gone mad? How could you call him by his first name? What would the others think? No. But before you could speak again, he added, "But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only."

Between you and him only? Over the time you stayed with him, you did start feeling his demeanour soften around you. He was letting you see much more than anyone else. But you kept pushing these thoughts away. They were ridiculous, Geto-sama seeing you as something special? No way.

Yes way.

You hesitated. You swore to obey his every word. You couldn't just push his request aside. You mustered all the courage you had as he grabbed your hips in excitement.

"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."

You didn't expect to see him grin as widely and toothy as he did in this exact moment.

"Atta girl, such a good pet you are. Good girls like you", he whispered, leaning in while nibbling up your neck. "deserve a reward. Now, on all fours."

-----

The next few times he fucked you in front of the others you actually had to concentrate on calling him Geto-sama. Oddly enough you grew accustomed to calling him Suguru during sex way to easily.

So one day, while your legs were thrown over his shoulders, kimono ripped open to expose your plush breasts, you almost slipped and fell.

You kept begging him to please slow down, but his tempo was relentless, stamina seemingly never ending during today's session. You tried getting used to it and calming down, but you just couldn't hold it in any longer at one point.

"Mhh.. Sugu~~", you moaned out before you could comprehend what you have just done. You just dumbly pressed your soft tits against his firm chest.

You froze as his hips came to a halt completely. He was staring at you with wide eyes. Oh you're fucked. But to your surprise a punishment didn't follow, instead he leaned down and whispered.

"If you can't control your words, you can bite my shoulder to calm down. Here.", he whispered gently.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer when he was being so kind right now.

You gave him a nod, opening your mouth. He smiled before sensually rocking his hips into yours. He was as gentle as the night you shared your first kiss.

The reassurance you had been looking for finally came in the form of his soft gaze. You felt at ease, but when you finally bit down, you almost screamed at his growl and how he picked up his speed. The soothing rhythm from before was long forgotten. With the way his cock was bullying itself inside your gummy walls so aggressively, calming down wasn't an option. Seems like his plan backfired. The bite was making him lose his mind.

Oh well, better keep biting that shoulder, girl, or you won't be able to stop yourself from screaming his (first) name. ;)

-----

Hope to see you very soon with more stuff!!<3 Stay tuned and thank you for all of the support even while I was gone🙆🏻‍♀️ Confession or mirror sex next??? or maybe first time ehe lmk what I should cook 😈

#jjk smut #jjk geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #takes with nini♡#jjk fanfic #nini's takes♡#jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut

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bethelighthalazia · 2 days

Text

Coachelly, Baby!

Summary: Mingi gets the call of his beloved girlfriend going into labor. While he's performing at coachella on the big sahara stage between two songs. Will he make it to the hospital in time?

Genre: fluff

Pairing: dad!mingi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1566

Warnings: none? mentions of pregnant reader (water breaks and labor mentioned)

networks: @newworldnet

[note: the purple bold italic text is spoken english, every other spoken word is korean]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Mingi and you had not planned any of this. Of course, both of you were completely in love with each other, and Mingi already had gotten a ring to propose to you, but then, all of a sudden, life happened. It wasn't supposed to be a big thing, neither of you would have thought that this little quickie you two had backstage on their tour, yet a month after that, you had been staring at the positive pregnancy test. Mingi had accompanied you to the doctors and they also confirmed: You´re pregnant.

Now, almost ten months later, you were sitting in the hotel room in LA. Your best friend, one of ATEEZ´s staff members, is lounging on the sofa. She actually had been on vacation, but didn´t want to leave you alone while the boys were performing on the Sahara stage. so, that's how the both of you ended up in the hotel room, when you felt it. A sharp pain caused you to curl forwards a little, Seonghwa´s Switch dropping from your hands. You knew this pain, fake contractions were normal in the last weeks already, but this time, it felt different.

“Fuck…I need Mings-” You groan, feeling the wetness of the sofa and your sweatpants. Your water broke. Your friend quickly grabbed the bag that you had prepared and helped you up to lead you down into the foyer of the hotel, where one of Mingi´s bodyguards already waited to bring you to the hospital. You vehemently refused to call an ambulance, yet your legs gave up on the way to the car and the bodyguard quickly caught you, carrying you the last few steps. “Mingi- I need my Mingi!” You repeated, tears in your eyes while you tried to be strong and hold back. The ride to the hospital was quick, only a few blocks down the street from the hotel you stayed in. Unfortunately, since neither your best friend, nor the bodyguard were family, they weren't allowed to accompany you inside. Although, when you basically screamed at the nurses, they did let your best friend come with you.

A few miles away, Mingi and the others just finished the second to last song and Hongjoong was talking to ATINY and the crowd again. That's when Mingi´s eyes went wide, because through the earpiece, he heard staff tell the group what happened. For a moment, they all were frozen in place, seven pairs of eyes directed at Mingi, who just stood there, mouth agape. “Aish! She really couldn't have waited?!” Wooyoung joked, trying to lessen the tension a little, but in that moment ATINY cheered loudly. Mingi had not kept the news of your pregnancy a secret, he was very open about it, but never revealed your name or picture, to keep you safe, of course. Before any of them could really do anything, the music for the last song started and they all performed Wonderland. Even though their thoughts were with you, Ateez performed fierce and powerful once again and, before the last note actually finished, Mingi ran off the stage. He didn't even stop to get changed, only grabbing Hongjoong´s arm, dragging him to the car to make them drive him to the hospital where you were having his babies.

During the drive, Mingi was basically vibrating on the seat, still feeling the high from the performance mixed with the excitement and anxiety of the infamous ‘dad-panic’. “Hey!” Hongjoong yelled after the fourth attempt to get the younger one´s attention, causing him to look quite startled. “Calm down, she's in the best hands. We´re almost there, Mingi-ah. Take a deep breath, okay? You can't rush in there and cause Y/nie to get even more stressed than she already is, okay?” The captain said calmly and gave his younger member a worried glance every now and then while also focusing on the road. “What if i´m too late? She´ll be upset with me…I promised to be there for her during birth.” Mingi mumbled under his breath, his fingers drumming the dashboard of the car. When Hongjoong parked the car, Mingi already jumped out before the engine was turned off, drawing a chuckle from the captain. The older male also got out and quickly followed Mingi, which was easy, since he towered over most of the people there.

“Song Y/n, where Song Y/n?” The blonde asked, almost climbing over the counter to take a look at the registry himself, because the nurse was just staring at Mingi. Who could blame her though, he was in the full coachella attire after all, mic monitor and all still attached to him. Stepping in to pull Mingi back, Hongjoong took over the talking, Mingi´s english too butchered by his excitement. “We´re looking for my friend´s girlfriend, Y/l/n /Y/n.” The captain said, after all, you weren't married yet, but the nurse looked a little confused. “Uhm, we only have Song Y/n here, her friend put in the information while Miss Song was rushed to the maternity unit. Just follow the hallway down there and wait there please.” The nurse explained, even gesturing for Hongjoong and Mingi to follow the signs and hallways. The short male didn't have much time to thank the nurse, already being dragged after Mingi, who had spotted your best friend waiting for you. When the two men joined your best friend, Mingi was not able to sit down though, your bestie quickly helped Mingi to take off his earpieces and the microphone monitor when the doors swung open.

“Who's the father?” Another nurse asked, looking at Hongjoong, who nudged Mingi forward a bit, and Mingi was led to you. When he stepped in though, he froze in the doorway, looking at you with his usual boba-eyed pout. “I- I missed it?” He asked, the adorable expression on his face completely opposite to his rockstar outfit. You just smiled at him, your hair sticking to the sweaty skin and you looked exhausted, but to him, you always would be the most beautiful being in the world. That is, until his gaze shifted when he noticed movement on your chest. Very slowly, Mingi stepped closer, leaning in to kiss your lips before looking at the small bundles in your arms. Hold on, bundles? There was more than one moving bundle, but that would mean-

“M- more than one?” His voice was quiet, slightly hoarse as he tried to stay calm. You just nodded, watching him very carefully take one of the bundles out of your arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “A boy and a girl.” You whispered, seeing the smile on his lips grow wide, unable to hold back his tears as he held his newborn daughter in his arms, her whole body almost fitting into his hands only. “Welcome to the world, ChanHee and Yujin…” With a choked chuckle, Mingi kissed the baby's forehead gently, your son instinctively grabbing your finger as you carefully poked his nose. After a while, the door to your room opened again and the other seven members came in, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had talked to them beforehand to not be too loud and to behave, or else they´d be in trouble.

The moment they laid eyes on the babies, Seonghwa and San couldn't stop themselves, tears running down their faces already. “You know…I do hope they'll grow to look more like you, Y/nie, and not like Mingi-'' Wooyoung said in a teasing manner, but is soon shut up by Jongho, who drags his hyung out of the room again. The captain congratulated you and Mingi, he even snuck in a bag with your favorite treats, and then shushed and hurried the others out again as well, so you and Mingi could enjoy parenthood for now.

“I´m sorry, jagi…I really came as fast as I could, but-” “Mingi, please. You are here now, and that's what counts.” You cut him off, smiling gently at him, the babies by now laying in their cribs next to the bed. Mingi had taken off the jacket he wore and replaced it with a plain black shirt, so he couldn't possibly hurt you or the babies with the zipper and buttons of his jacket. You had made him lay down on the bed and cuddle with you, needing his warmth and comfort now, while he had asked you about almost every detail of the birth. It wasn't really the most casual talk, yet you did try to tell him everything, even though it mostly felt like a blur for yourself. It didn't take long for your head to drop against his chest while talking, the exhaustion finally taking over your body as you fell asleep. Mingi however felt wide awake, holding you tightly and peppering you with kisses. He felt so grateful that you walked into his life and now even blessed him with the two most beautiful babies. With a smile on his face, he carefully climbed out of the bed when Yujin started to make sounds. He very gently lifted her out of the crib and rocked her in his arms, humming the melody of Wonderland, the first melody that came to mind, to make her fall asleep again, a content smile on his face when he looked at his son and then you, his wonderful little family.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#kat writes <3 #newworldnet #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez mingi #ateez fluff #ateez imagines

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kpopaussieline · 2 days

Text

Good Girl

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Afab!Reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby), one p**** slap, praise (use of good girl), fingering

Synopsis: You've always liked experimenting with different styles, but something about the emo girl outfit you're wearing gets Jake a little worked up

A/N: First time writing smut 🫣 I'm sorry if it's bad, feedback is appreciated <3

~♡~♡~♡~

You admired yourself in the mirror, angling your body left to right as you adjusted your skirt and thigh-highs. Once you were satisfied, you sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on your boots, lacing them tightly.

You loved trying out all sorts of outfits: preppy, streetwear, alternative and now 'emo girl'.

Your boyfriend Jake loved seeing your ootd. He'd never fail to compliment you with a genuine grin.

You were about to get up and go flaunt your outfit to him, when he knocked politely on the door before entering. His eyes widened slightly when they landed on you.

"Oh wow," he said quietly. He met your gaze and smiled. "You look amazing, sweetheart."

You stood and made your way to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and went on tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. "Thank you."

Jake's hands rested on your waist, his thumbs rubbing your skin gently. He looked down at you with a smirk on his lips. There was a look in his eyes far less innocent than the smile he'd given you a moment before.

You tilt your head. "What are you looking at?"

The smirk remained. "Just you, princess. You look so sexy right now." His eyes dropped to your lips, then your chest, before meeting yours again.

You chuckled and swatted his arm playfully. But he wasn't joking around. His hands slid down to your hips, thumbs hooking into the band of your skirt as he pulled you closer. You could just feel the bulge in his pants pressing into your thigh. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you swallowed, trying to discreetly press your thighs together.

Jake leant down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "What happened to my good girl, huh?"

Your skin went warm and your heart sped up. Your core throbbed a little more.

"I'm just trying a new kind of outfit," you reply shakily.

"Mm," he murmured, a low grumble in his throat that got you wet, your arousal slowly leaking out into your panties. "You feeling tough today, princess?"

You swallow again and squeeze your thighs tighter, spreading your slick around. "I–"

Jake's teeth nip at your ear. His hands move around to your ass and hold you flush against his body, his clothed boner hitting your clit through your panties. You let out a soft, involuntary moan and he chuckles.

"Maybe we should test it out, hm? See how tough you are when my fingers are inside that pretty pussy of yours."

"Jake," you sigh out, your eyes closing as your hips roll forward to grind against his bulge.

You hear him suck in a breath. "I'll take that as a yes," he says. He leaves a kiss on your neck before pulling away. "Sit on the bed, sweetheart."

You do as you're told, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Jake climbs on, sitting behind you. He puts his legs either side of you and brings you back against his chest. You relax into his warmth while you still can. It's not going to last long before he's destroying you with those gorgeous hands.

Jake whispers into your ear as one arm wraps around your waist and his free hand creeps down your thigh, tickling the skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "You're such a good girl for me." His Australian accent melts you like butter and your pussy responds, soaking your panties a little more, clenching around nothing.

Jake's hand glides down your thigh, then up again. Getting so close to your core, yet so far. His touch is so light, sending an excited chill down your spine. You start getting impatient, shifting and groaning softly.

"Jake..."

He tilts his head and his palm rests on your knee. "What's wrong, baby?" You can hear the smirk in his voice and you bite back the urge to slap it off his face. But you can't lie to yourself and say it doesn't turn you on when he messes with you like this.

"Just do it already," you tell him.

Jake chuckles. "I'll do it when I want to, princess," he whispers in your ear. The hand on your waist slowly slides up your front, under your shirt. He cups your breast through your bra before moving the fabric aside with his thumb and teasing your nipple.

You moan quietly and arch into his touch. His fingers trace up your thigh. He squeezes the plush flesh of your upper thigh before slipping your panties aside. You inhale at the sudden cool air against your warm pussy.

His other hand still toying with your nipple, his fingers spread your slick up and down your pussy. You squirm and moan every time he makes contact with your clit.

Jake silences you with a quick slap to the pussy, the wet noise echoing in the silence. You wince, even though it didn't hurt that much. If anything, it makes you even more wet.

"Behave yourself if you wanna cum. Be a good girl for me."

You chew your lip and nod. Satisfied, Jake continues stimulating your nipple as two fingers slip inside you. You bite your lip harder as they start moving in and out, curling to hit your gummy walls. Your back arches and your fingers dig into Jake's thighs, needing something to grasp. You moan softly and it's music to his ears. He speeds up, the crude noises of your pussy sucking in his fingers filling the room. The sensation of his cool metal rings on your heated cunt just adds to the enjoyment.

His increased pace and the stimulation on your nipples has you spilling juices onto the covers, squirming and moaning under Jake's touch. Your nails dig into his thighs through the denim of his jeans.

The hand that was playing with your breast slips out from under your shirt. His fingers trail between your boobs, over your collarbone. They wrap around your neck and squeeze gently.

You squeak in surprise, eyes widening.

"What did I say?" Jake's voice is raspy with lust.

"I'm sorry, Jake," you whimper. His fingers are still working your cunt, drawing your orgasm closer and closer.

He lets out a hum of approval, but keeps his hand on your neck, holding your head back against his shoulder. His fingers pick up pace, stroking your walls with such skill your impending orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. Your eyes shut tightly and you bite down hard on your lip, the knot in your lower stomach tightening. Jake gives your neck a squeeze, harder this time, and it has your head spinning.

"You're doing so well, baby," he praises. "Don't hold back those beautiful noises of yours, princess. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

His words, his grip on your throat, his skilled fingers. You fall over the edge, the knot unravelling in a dizzying but delicious way. Your back arches and your nails claw at the sheets.

"Ah! Jake! Oh god!"

He kisses your neck and gradually slows his fingers as he works you through your high. He releases his hold on your throat and your head drops back on his shoulder. You're seeing stars.

Jake brushes the hair from your face and kisses your temple. "You did so well for me, baby," he whispers.

You take a moment before leaning forward, going to get up and clean up. But Jake wraps an arm around you and gently but firmly pulls you back against his chest. He kisses from your temple to your neck.

"You didn't think we were done, princess?" he whispers in your ear. He rolls his hips up and you feel his raging hard-on on your ass. "We've still gotta deal with this little problem you caused."

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen jake #sim jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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rainybubbles · 6 hours

Text

Unrequited love and 141

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

Suggestive theme for Soap's one /!/

SIMON : you were his second choice.

You gazed into his eyes, and within their depths, the truth unfurled. His lips remained sealed, yet their silence spoke volumes, delivering a verdict you dreaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't like you that way," he said, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

-Such has been the pattern of your existence.

-You were never anyone's first pick—neither for your family, nor your friends, nor your school.

- You were always the second choice. And for a brief moment, you thought maybe things were different with Simon.

-Maybe his kindness towards you meant something more, maybe his tough exterior was just a front.

-But no, it wasn't like that at all. You felt foolish, like you were living in a dream.

-"Let's just forget about this, it was dumb," you whispered, trying to brush it off.

-"Yeah," he agreed quickly. Too quickly. And you knew why. He never saw you in that way.

-"You'll find someone better," he said, trying to be comforting.

-You fought the urge to scream, to rail against the clichéd reassurance.

-"Less emo, maybe?" you joked, but it didn't ease the pain.

-He chuckled, a sound you used to love, but now it only reminded you of what you couldn't have.

-"You'll find someone," he repeated, but you knew it wasn't true. All your crushes ended the same way, and Simon was your last hope.

-"I should go home. You have stuff to do, right?" you said, feeling the awkwardness between you both.

-"Yeah," he confirmed, not asking you to stay like he usually did. You knew you messed up.

-You forced a smile, hiding the tears, and left.

-Walking back to your apartment, the rain mixed with your tears, and it all felt like one big mess. You wanted to forget about Simon, but at the same time, you wanted more of him. It was torture.

-Back at your place, you picked up your phone and saw a message from Johnny. Simon has been seeing someone. It hit you hard.

-"When?" you replied quickly.

-"This week. He wasn't sure, but it's been going on for months," came the response.

-And then you realized.

-Those moments you shared with Simon—they weren't meaningless.

-They weren’t figments of your imagination.

-Him without his mask, the flirt jokes, the stay-in at his flat…

- They were moments stolen in the absence of his true desire, placeholders for another.

-You were nothing more than a substitute, a convenient distraction until his heart's desire was available.

-You were just a stand-in until his real crush was available.

-You were a second choice.

-"What a coward," you muttered to yourself, feeling angry and hurt.

__________________________________________

SOAP : hookup who wishes more

His lips brushed against your neck, the sizzle of breakfast in the pan, and you allowed yourself to drift into reverie.

A life entwined with his seemed within reach.

Yet, the harsh reality pierced through when he reached for his phone to answer another call from another one night-stand.

In his bed, you were just another person, another quick fuck, maybe the one he was most comfortable with, like an old pair of socks.

But not the only one. Just someone he could rely on when he needed.

It was silly to have feelings for him.

But sometimes, when he stayed in the morning, asking about your family or giving you birthday gifts, you couldn't help but hope.

Maybe he was trying to tell you something. Until he left again. Until he talked about others. Until he was with someone else.

You lived close to his place, always there when he wanted you. Even though you knew your place, you couldn't bring yourself to cut him off, to tell him to stop.

Your heart craved his attention, even if it was only for a moment.

"Could ye pass me the salt, Nox?" he asked casually.

That wasn't your name, nor a moniker he bestowed upon you. Your body tensed, gripped by a sudden realization. He had mistaken you for one of his fuck buddies.

The agony engulfed you, clouding your thoughts.

"It's not my name," you whispered, barely audible.

"Sorry, Ah wasn't payin’ attention," he apologized, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Focused. The word echoed in your mind as you struggled to find your voice. "Leave," you whispered.

"Whit?" he asked, confused.

"I said, leave."

“Wait, if somethin’ happened, I can help-”

“That's the problem, John. You can't help. You can’t have it both ways. You can't treat me like your lover one moment, only to discard me for someone else the next. You can't oscillate between warmth and coldness. I'm tired of being strung along by your attachment issues. I know your family, John. I've met them all. Yet you introduced me as a friend. After each deployment, you sought solace in my arms, whispering promises you never intended to keep. I've had enough."

"I can change, just give me a chance—" he pleaded.

"No," you said firmly. "You want fun, I want commitment.I won't demand something you're incapable of giving. But I refuse to be ensnared in this farce any longer. Leave my home, and never return”

"It's a misunderstanding, please, just listen—" he begged.

"You called me by the wrong name," you said, your voice breaking. "While I made breakfast, you were texting someone else. You even made plans with them while we were supposed to watch a movie together. It's clear to me now."

John left, leaving behind a mess of emotions. You cried, but you also felt a sense of relief. Next time, you promised yourself, you would ask for honesty from the start, before getting caught up in another tangled web of confusion.

__________________________

GAZ : waiting for someone who doesn’t wait for you.

You stood there, shivering in the biting cold, lips pallid, hands tingling crimson from the chill, yet refusing to let a single tear betray your anguish.

As each shop shuttered its windows, the empty streets echoed with the hollow sound of your hopes crumbling, brick by brick.

You clung to the belief that Gaz would never abandon you, not after everything. So you lingered, a lone figure in the twilight, yearning for his arrival.

But when he finally materialized, it was a dagger to your heart. His arms wrapped around another, their laughter slicing through the silence like shards of glass.

Together they sauntered into the very restaurant where he had promised to take you, where they shared a meal that should have been yours.

Fingers trembling, you reached for your phone, desperate to bridge the chasm between you and him.

Yet he flicked his device off with callous disregard, leaving you to drown in a sea of unanswered questions.

Why? Why would he toy with your emotions like this, dangling the prospect of reconciliation before your weary eyes only to snatch it away?

He had been the one to reach out, resurrecting memories of a bygone era when you were each other's world in high school, planting seeds of hope for a future together.

And foolishly, you had clung to those promises, waiting with bated breath for his return, even as the minutes stretched into hours.

You had always been waiting for him.

You had always been the one chasing after Gaz, in school, in matters of the heart, in the delicate dance of friendship.

But now, as you trudged towards the desolate bus station, the bitter irony of it all weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

The clock struck midnight, and a message flashed across your screen, belated apologies dripping with insincerity from him.

In that moment, the truth became painfully clear: you had always made time for him, carving out precious moments in your hectic existence, while he couldn't spare a single second to offer a genuine excuse, a shred of explanation.

And so, as the bus rumbled towards an uncertain destination, you vowed to reclaim the pieces of yourself that you had willingly sacrificed at the altar of his indifference.

For in the end, you realized, the only person worth waiting for was the one who would never keep you waiting in the first place.

__________________________

Price : he loved you. You love him.

You watch as his fiancée weeps, tears staining your own cheeks. It's not the same for you. It's not joy, it's sorrow.

Yet, despite the ache in your heart, your eyes betray you as they linger on how handsome John looks in his pristine white suit. Your heart, it seems, has impeccable taste.

You hear him uttering his vows, the crowd erupting in cheers.

But your mind is fixated solely on the fading of his smile. You know it's just your own jealousy speaking, suggesting that perhaps he harbors a secret desire to halt this union.

You despise it, yet you can't silence the relentless overthinking that observes how he subtly recoils when their hands touch, how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, like a fleeting shadow of itself.

But now is the time for speeches, or forever hold your peace, isn't it?

And your decision has been made, etched into the stars since the day he shared his dreams of them, seeking your approval.

The festivities commence, and you remain composed, aloof, deliberately distant from him, from them. You're afraid—afraid of divulging everything, afraid of shattering it all.

"You've been keeping to yourself," he remarks.

"Is that an inquiry, Captain?" you retort, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words.

"You're not in the military, don't call me that, dear."

You manage a wry smile.

"I don't fare well in crowds," you confess.

"I know," he acknowledges softly. "I just wanted a moment to talk."

"About what?" you inquire cautiously.

"You seem distant, from everyone," he observes.

"I... I just need time to recuperate from something, nothing significant," you deflect.

"Is it... physical?" he probes.

"No," you reply curtly.

"Emotional?"

"John."

"I just want to understand," he persists.

"Ignorance is bliss," you murmur, a trace of bitterness tainting your words.

"Yes, but not when it comes to you," he counters.

"John, please don't push," you plead.

"I will.You can't just shut me out like this," he insists, his brows furrowing in exasperation.

"Watch me," you retort, your jaw set stubbornly.

"Why are you like this?" he demands, his voice rising slightly with pent-up frustration.

"Like what?" you counter, your own patience wearing thin.

"Closed off. Distant. It's like you've built a wall between us," he argues, his words laced with hurt.

"Maybe I have," you admit, your voice softening just a fraction.

"Why?" he implores, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Irritation flares within you, fatigue settling in. You've had your fill of this celebration, of the clamor, of the happiness that seems so out of reach.

And then, it slips out.

"I love you. Satisfied now?" you snap.

His expression morphs, a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You can't just drop that bombshell on me," he whispers, his voice tinged with betrayal.

"I warned you, John. Don't try to shift the blame onto me," you retort, your tone strained.

"Why... Why didn't you say anything before?" he implores, his frustration evident.

"Because you paraded around with people who bore no resemblance to me? Because our friendship means everything to me, and I couldn't risk it," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion.

His anger simmers beneath the surface.

"Listen, I'm sorry. Let's forget this, you have your fiancée and—"

"I loved you too," he interjects, his admission cutting through the air like a knife.

"What?" you gasp, stunned.

"Before my fiancée, I... I was utterly in love with you. I... damn it, we could have... Why didn't you say anything?" he laments, his voice thick with regret.

"John, no," you murmur, your heart breaking all over again.

"I love her now," he adds hastily, as if trying to extinguish the flicker of hope that ignited within you.

"You can't drop this bombshell now. It's cruel," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"I know," he admits, his gaze dropping in shame.

"You're a coward. You've moved on, and now you leave me with this 'what if,'" you accuse, the words bitter on your tongue.

"It'll fade," he offers weakly.

-"Fuck you, John," you hiss, the finality of your words hanging heavy in the air.

-You never see him again after the wedding. You couldn't bear to, not to his fiancée, not to him, not to yourself. Perhaps, you muse bitterly, ignorance truly is bliss.

if you want more : my masterlist

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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my-love-is-sunlight · 18 hours

Text

Law + mexican s/o

I am a believer that Skypiea was 100% supposed to represent Mexico I mean… the whole history and design of the island screamed Tenochtitlán to me. Also I am Mexican so I gotta represent am I right? 🇲🇽🦅🦅🦅 planning on making it a series with other characters feel free to request

Masterlist

If your name is specifically very noticeably Mexican, he’d be very curious and ask the meaning and the proper pronunciation

Obsessed with your accent and loves when it slips out

He would never forget the first time you made him chilaquiles he literally ascended to heaven

Definitely would ask you to cook him your traditional meals, probably fell in love with the cuisine and he can’t live without it now

A sucker for tamales

The day you made pozole, everyone begged you to never leave the crew and keep on making it for them

“You better treat them right Captain” said Penguin as he served his 4 plate of pozole

And don’t get me started on tacos… you are legally obligated to cook tacos at least once a week

Bepo would help you make tortillas and die happy if you let him eat the first one

Law’s mortal enemy is el mazapán, he almost fainted when you made him eat it, he thinks it’s the most disgusting thing on this earth

He finds it kinda amusing how your voice changes when speaking spanish, also would beg for you you teach him because he feels left out and wants to understand what you say

100% would get mad if you start speaking spanish and won’t translate afterwards. What if you’re talking shit and he doesn’t know it? FOMO (even if it’s about him)

The kind of guy to find the fact that you’re bilingual extremely attractive, you’re so smart

Would tease you if you forget words or don’t understand certain slang, but would always translate/explain it to you he doesn’t want to make you feel left out

Loves to swear in spanish, like the most mexican curses

His favorite one is chinga tu madre

One of his favorite activities is cuddling while you whisper sweet nothings in spanish to him

You once told him that even though names can’t be translated, he would probably be called Lorenzo and he hated it and of course you call him that to rile him up because its hilarious

100% bought a book to also teach himself some more spanish and impress you

You once wore a traditional outfit for a banquet and absolutely loved it he couldn’t stop complimenting you and eventually you gifted him a handmade shirt that he treasures

You gifted him some nice boots too and he wears them religiously

He noticed every time November would roll by, you’d buy flowers that’d sit under some pictures, and would also make some decorations with skeletons on them. When you explained what Día de Muertos was and that those were pictures of your loved ones that had passed away, he was so amazed and next November he’d add a picture of Corazón in your altar and bought stuff you were missing to complete it

Eventually the tradition was embraced by the whole crew and everyone would participate putting together a bigger altar on display for everyone

You’d paint everyone as catrines and best believe everyone is exited to be part of it, celebrating your culture and those that are not here is so precious to the crew

Viernes de carne asada at the submarine

There would probably be some cultural differences between you and Law; for example he probably thought you were so damn loud (a lot of ppl had told me we are very loud?) or wouldn’t get your sense of humor at first

Confused on why you keep every damn plastic bag inside another bag

Home remedies scare him, what do you mean you’re putting lemon on your cut? Would accept some sore throat drink tho

Freaked out the first time you did a limpia on him but he’s used to it now, still thinks it’s stupid tho and he’ll roll his eyes and grumble

He. Loves. Vaporub

When you proclaimed it was absolutely magical he laughed, but when then witnessed its power now he always has some on him

When he hears your music blasting in the morning he knows you’re on cleaning duty

He would probably listen to spanish rock and would ask you to translate the lyrics

When you moved in to a shared room with Law, he noticed how a lot of the decorations were so colorful it was comical how contrasting it was from his personal style. You were adding color to his life, literally and metaphorically

Noche de loteria once a month everyone plays and sometimes it gets out of hand, Law is so competitive he is winning no matter what

You asked Law to dress as a charro for your birthday. At first he acted like it was annoying but honestly he liked the all black outfit and ended up loving it

He’d wear it around to fluster you

Would bend whenever you call him “mi vida” or “mi amor” but would get mad if you do it in front of others, that’s for his ears only also hates pda

Honestly he loves everything about you and understands how your culture is a huge part of who you are, so he is eager to learn about and connect with it, but most importantly to allow you to embrace it, after all the heart pirates are your family

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pomefioredove · 1 day

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please, PLEASE write a rollo x reader fic where rollo wakes up from a nightmare about his brother and where there to comfort him PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

let it be known that the only reason I started playing this game was because they added frollo. rollo is like a cryptid in the HoND fandom

summary: nightmares and comfort type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, established relationship?, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, not proofread, rollo vaguely implied to have ptsd because I do and am a scholar in trauma nightmares ^-^

There's a certain point at which bad dreams and reality melt together.

Where the line blurs, and you can't be sure where the nightmare ends and you begin. They so often feel one in the same.

Rollo is familiar with bad dreams.

At one point, he thought there would be a solution. Something to hold them back, to release him from their sticky grasp. He journaled, for a while, but all that brought him was grief.

It happens like clockwork.

Four or five nightmares in one rest, for one to two weeks, at the same time every year. He keeps track of them. How could he not?

They culminate on a certain day, one he dreads in and of itself, and then slowly, painfully die off, leaving him wounded and alone.

It's dreadful.

And it's worse that he knows exactly why they happen.

You had once asked him what keeps him up at night, as a sort of conversation starter when you were first getting to know each other. What a strange question to ask someone, and in such a light-hearted tone.

He told you he sees no use for excess sleep when he can be diligent, instead.

Sloth is a vice, he said. Detestable.

You seemed to accept that as an answer, much to his relief. The truth was far too ugly for someone as pure as you to shoulder. He was only protecting your feelings, after all. And perhaps his.

Rollo hoped, for your sake, that you wouldn't notice. He was still getting used to the idea of sleeping beside another person, and the very last thing he wanted was to burden you with all of what he is.

To put it plainly, he didn't want to scare you off.

The first few nights were easy enough. Nasty imagery wrapped up in otherwise normal dreams, those of which could hardly be considered nightmares.

He'd wake up in a cold sweat, and toss and turn until he could manage to fall back asleep, never stirring you.

This time is different.

He wakes, not quite jolting, but certainly thrashing himself back into the present moment like an animal caught in a trap.

His eyes snap open, and there's nothing but darkness, his breathing, and the uneasy feeling of his stomach. It takes a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings.

You're still asleep. Thankfully.

He liked to keep some distance between the two of you, anyway. Rollo had to ease himself into the idea of being physically close with someone without being utterly repulsed.

The only reason he'd entertained the idea in the first place was because it's you, you, pure and good, who would never do anything to discomfort him, you, who even now, sleeps like an angel in his bed.

There's something unclean about that thought, although it's not your doing.

Rollo gets up, careful not to disturb you, and paces around the room while he tries to get ahold of reality. He reminds himself of the date, the time, his full name, anything that will shake the lingering terror coursing through is body.

He does not cry. He hasn't since...

Well. Never mind, that.

Now is not the time to make a fuss. He's not a child, he's not fragile, he can handle his own nightmares without needing someone to tuck him back in.

The dream was so terrifyingly, disgustingly real, though.

The nightmares which aren't nightmares are the worst sorts of dreams, because he instantly feels silly for scaring himself over something so mundane, even if that looming sense of dread and fear still makes him feel ill.

This one was but a normal conversation, with...

...He didn't want to remember it.

The point was more so that it felt so utterly real that waking up like this, having it fall apart around him like the rotting pages of an old book, was like having his head dunked in freezing cold water repeatedly.

Not a pleasant feeling.

He paces, back and forth, in front of the now-dead fireplace, trying to regain his bearings.

He's quiet; he so often is; and yet, still, roused either by the sound of his footsteps or the heavy, uncomfortable feeling in the air, you wake.

The sound of your voice nearly scares him.

Rollo turns to you, eyes wide as you sit up, drawing your knees to your chest. "What?"

"I asked if you're okay," you repeat, turning to the space beside you to check the time. "It's two in the morning."

His answer is immediate, as calm as he can muster, although there's a faint crack in his voice on the last word. "I'm well. I was just thinking,"

"Thinking? Now?"

He nods, and turns back to the mantle. His arms are crossed over his chest, acting as a sort of armor, protecting him.

You tilt your head to the side. "Did you have a bad dream?"

He hates how perceptive you can be, sometimes. It takes him a moment to think of a suitable answer- is it worth telling you the truth?

"I have bad dreams all the time," you say. "Like... all the time. Weird ones, too. It's nothing to be embarrassed a-"

"I am not embarrassed," he snaps, whirling around on his heels to face you. His tone softens when he sees the perplexed expression on your face. "I was just trying to tire myself before returning to bed. I didn't want to disturb you."

You shake your head. "I wouldn't have minded if you did. I understand... do you want to talk about it?"

He's silent, looking away again, which is enough of an answer to you.

"Then will you at least come back to bed?"

Rollo supposes he should. He doesn't want to risk worrying you any further. That would only stir up more questions.

He settles himself in bed, lying flat on his back with his arms crossed over his chest, more cadaver than human. You always found that position so amusing, for whatever reason, and even now you can't contain a laugh.

"Are you cold? You're shaking,"

Damn it. He is. He hadn't even noticed... and though his tremors aren't from the temperature, he agrees with you anyway.

"Yes. It's rather cold tonight,"

You hum a small note of contemplation and inch closer to him. "May I?"

Rollo's face immediately turns red, although he can't help but indulge himself... just this once. For your sake, anyway.

He nods.

You come closer, resting your head on his shoulder and putting an arm around his waist in the most comfortable position you can manage while he's lying like this.

Your body is warm, soft, comforting... all things that would normally repulse him, but it's you...

He pats the back of your hand with one of his in a reassuring, though awkward gesture. As much as he expected to feel his heart pounding even harder at your closeness, there's something quite... safe about the embrace. He can't deny it.

"Good night," you murmur, already half-asleep.

He closes his eyes, allowing his body to relax... just the tiniest bit.

"Good night,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rollo flamme x reader

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