Tumgik
#he is so expressive - and it doesn't hurt that his face is so beautiful and makes it a joy to watch!
b0r3dtod3ath · 8 hours
Note
Hello hi!
Can you do a challengers fic?
Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.
(lots of groveling)
Thank you!
Tumblr media
Thank you for the request!
Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 
You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 
Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.
You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".
He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.
The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 
The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 
A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 
Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 
You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 
Tumblr media
For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 
He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  
As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.
April 29, 2024
83 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"You know, in the theatre we have to examine the internal logic of all our actions."
Sir Charles Cartwright playing detective.
10 notes · View notes
animexts · 8 months
Text
BETTER THAN MEAT
Sumarry: Luffy discovers that his favorite smell is no longer the smell of meat.
OPLA!Luffy X Reader
Warnings: I think none, I just hope it gives you butterflies in your stomach lol
A/N: You asked me for this so much and here it is, it's horrible, but it's a good start.
─────────────────
Tumblr media
"Where's Y/n, Nami?" Luffy says while Nami is still looking at the clothes.
"She's over there changing, let's go Y/n!" Nami screams.
"I guess I didn't like that." Y/n says showing off and upon hearing his voice, Luffy turns his head to look.
He doesn't know exactly what he felt at that moment, but it was something very similar to a heart attack.
"What do you think Luffy?" Y/n says observing Luffy's serious expression.
"You are the most beautiful pirate I have ever seen in my entire life." Y/n blushes when she hears this and Zoro scoffs.
"That's very kind of you Luffy, thank you." Y/n says awkwardly.
"Seriously you... you would easily be mistaken for a princess or something." Luffy says getting up and going to Y/n.
Y/n smiles at Luffy who is right in front of her now, and suddenly he starts moving his nose sniffing.
"And what is that smell?" Luffy says trying to identify the smell.
"It must be from dinner Luffy."
"No no, it's something else." And then he does something that leaves everyone wide-eyed.
Luffy puts his nose on Y/n's neck, sniffing deeply, sending shivers all over Y/n's body.
"Luffy don't do that." She says laughing and pushing his shoulders awkwardly.
“Your smell better than meat Y/n!” Luffy says laughing and she feels her cheeks heat up.
"That really surprised me." Zoro says laughing a little.
"Y/n can I smell you more often?" Luffy asks smiling.
"I think you can?"
And it doesn't end here
Y/n is sitting next to Luffy during dinner, she is drinking when she suddenly feels something warm on her neck and turns red as a tomato when she sees Luffy's hair and realizes it was him sniffing her neck again, almost making her to drown.
"Luffy for the love of God don't do that." She says pushing him awkwardly again.
"You really smell good ." He says smiling, and she feels her heart soften.
Y/n doesn't know what to do or say so she just turns forward again, seeing this Luffy's smile disappears
"Oh you don't like that Y/n?" Luffy says loudly, unintentionally drawing the attention of the entire table.
"No, don't worry Luffy, it's okay." She smiles and puts her hand on his shoulder.
But no, it wasn't okay, Luffy thought about Y/n's reaction during dinner, during his speech and everything.
What he least wanted was to hurt or offend Y/n, she was too special to him, it made him so anxious that he simply couldn't wait until the next day to talk to Y/n, so here he is facing the bedroom door her.
Before he can knock on the door, Y/n opens it and is surprised to see Luffy there.
"Oh hi Luffy, everything okay?"
"I'd like to apologize if I made you uncomfortable hi something like that it wasn't my intention." Y/n thinks she fell in love with Luffy even more after hearing him say that.
"Oh no Lu, it's okay, I… I liked that." Y/n says embarrassed as she admits this and he smiles at that.
"That's great, because I like doing this too." He says and moves closer to smell Y/n again, but this time, she tilts her head to give him better access.
But when he is moving away from her, he stops in the middle of the way with their noses almost touching, and then Luffy gives Y/n a quick peck on the lips, quickly moving her face away and smiling.
"Damn why did you do that? It must have made her uncomfortable again" He is torturing himself with his thoughts when Y/n speaks again.
"Do you want to go find the kitchen?" Y/n says and his smile widens.
"Yes, let's go!" Luffy grabs Y/n's wrist and pulls her along with him.
He's happy that his favorite person in the world isn't mad at him, and she's happy that her favorite pirate cares about her so much.
love young bro...
─────────────────
4K notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 1 month
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
Tumblr media
Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
1K notes · View notes
the-writer-arrived · 10 months
Text
Wait, you're engaged?!
Synopsis: you two are engaged, congrats!! how does he share the news with others?
Characters: alhaitham; diluc ragnvindr.
Warnings: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, this is actually more crack than fluff oh well, diluc and kaeya are brothers.
A/N: this is the third draft I wrote in two hours. IS THIS WHAT'S LIKE TO HAVE MOTIVATION????
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It all started with a simple question about your well-being coming from Kaveh.
"So, how have they been lately?" was what the architect had asked, while shaking the elemental dice in his hand. He was playing a TCG match against Cyno, not an uncommon occurrence when the 4ggravate group of friends get together at Lambad's Tavern.
"Oh, my fiancée is doing just fine, I guess they're in a bit more energetic mood than usual." was what Alhaitham had answered, nonchalant as if he was talking about the weather and hadn't just dropped a huge bomb just like that.
The cheeky bastard is actually hiding his smirk with his wine cup, totally satisfied with himself at the shocked looks everyone has now.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!"
"Kaveh, please don't yell, you're making my ears hurt!"
"A-Ah! Sorry, Tighnari..."
"It seems like you didn't get a single dice of the elements you needed, your luck is truly something to be researched about."
"Wha-?! You...! Ah, no, wait, who cares about that?!"
I'm telling you, the guy is doing all he can to surpress the grin threatening to appear on his face.
No one was expecting to hear that, heck they didn't even know Alhaitham had bought a ring in the first place????
Dude how come you don't share these life changing plans with your homies?!
He shares the tale of how he had proposed to you... And let's just say Kaveh's romantic side was not happy about how it happened.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PROPOSED WHILE YOU TWO WERE LOUNGING IN THE LIVING ROOM???"
"Kaveh, too loud!"
"S-Sorry!"
Much to Kaveh's dismay, Alhaitham didn't make any extravagant gesture or big preparations.
It was just you and him, in the comfort of your home and it just felt right to pop the question at that moment.
What no one, not even you, knew is that the confident, smart and aloof scribe had not actually planned to propose to you like that at all.
Ever since he had bought the ring months ago, Alhaitham had devised so many different ways on how to do it, always thinking about which scenario would make you the happiest.
But when he had you laid down on his lap, spounting your usual nonsense just to try to get a reaction out of him because you were bored, it simply felt... right to do it right then and there.
Make no mistake, he may not have shown, but his hand was shaking when he pulled the small box out of his pocket, he had to thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for allowing his voice to not come out shaky.
Alhaitham's cockiness aside, Cyno, Tighnari and Kaveh are all genuinely very happy at the unexpected, but positive news.
"Let's order some bread, then."
"Bread? Why do you want bread all of a sudden?"
"So we can offer a toast to the future spouses... Get it? Toast? As in-"
"Yes Cyno, we get it!"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ahhh Diluc, my sweet Batman of Mondstadt... He had always thought that the best course of action was to keep everyone at arm's length, not only for his sake, but for other people as well.
Now, as he gazes at the beautiful ring on your finger, he can only laugh at how naive he was for thinking he would be able to do that during his whole life.
On the next day after he had proposed to you, every customer in Angel's Share can see Master Diluc acting rather... odd.
He seems... I don't know, lighter? His expression doesn't look so serious anymore... Wait, is he... smiling?!
Needless to say, everyone at the tavern is dying to know what happened to the tycoon of the wine industry, but no one dares to ask him directly...
...no one but a certain cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonious, that is.
"My, someone is in a good mood today. Did something nice happened lately, Master Diluc?"
"Here's your Death After Noon, Kaeya."
"...Okay, something must have happened for you to prepare my drink before I even ordered it."
After much poking and prying from Kaeya, Diluc finally relents, just so the pestering would stop.
It's a lie, he is actually feeling ecstatic to be able to share the news with someone.
Everyone and their grandma knew about your relationship with Diluc of course, it's a bit hard not to when you are dating the uncrowned king of Mondstadt himself, despite you two not making a public announcement of being together.
So, before he could even tell Kaeya that he had proposed to you, the captain already suspected that that was the reason for his brother's sudden change of behavior.
Even so, that doesn't stop a genuine smile to appear on Kaeya's face as he congratulates Diluc.
"It's about time! I was starting to wonder how many more years you were going to make me wait, before I had the chance be your best man in your wedding."
"Who said you're going to be my best man?"
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've forgotten our promise to be each other's best man when we were younger?"
"...I'm surprised you still remember that.
What Diluc wasn't aware at that moment was that a certain bard had eavesdropped "accidentaly" listened to his private conversation with the cavalry captain.
It was such great news, the bard couldn't help but let it escape during the drunk conversations he had with other patrons that night.
How could he imagine that those patrons would tell their friends, who would tell their friends and so on? Of course the kind-hearted bard wouldn't do that on purpose!
It's not his fault that all the citizens of Mondstadt now know about Diluc's engagement with you!
Sorry Donna.
"Come now, Master Diluc! Good news are meant to be shared with others! Who knows? Maybe even the Anemo Archon caught wind of them, ehe!"
"...I won't sell you any wine for a month now."
"W-What?! Please, don't be so cruel, Master Diluc!"
Tumblr media
thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
pink alhaitham and diluc banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly <3
4K notes · View notes
Text
If It All Fell
Tumblr media
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??
a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3
Part 2 ♡
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.
Gods, your head hurt. 
A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 
“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”
You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 
You took a pause. 
And then another. 
Who was the last person you had seen? 
“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 
The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 
“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 
“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 
“Witches?” 
“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 
The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 
Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 
Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 
You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 
“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 
Another lapse in silence. 
“My Gods…” 
Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 
But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 
You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.
“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 
“Azriel, she—” 
“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 
There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 
You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 
You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 
“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 
Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 
Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 
Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  
“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 
His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.
That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 
The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 
Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 
It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 
Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 
When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 
“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 
It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 
But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 
Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 
You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 
“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 
Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.
The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 
“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 
“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 
A twig snapped beneath a boot.
Azriel growled low in his chest. 
The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 
You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 
“Stay away from her.” 
“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 
A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 
Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 
Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.
Part 2 ♡
2K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 3 months
Note
Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️
distance [ s.r ]
Tumblr media
Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions
WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship
pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending
wc: 1.6k
masterlist!!
a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-
Tumblr media
You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.
He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.
Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.
Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.
Gone was the Spencer you knew.
Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.
You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.
“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”
It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.
“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.
Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.
“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.
It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.
You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.
You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?
You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.
You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.
He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.
You were wrong.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.
You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.
You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.
“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”
“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”
You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.
“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”
“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.
“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.
“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.
“Spence-”
“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”
“Spencer-”
“I hope he makes you happy-”
He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.
“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.
“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”
“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.
“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.
“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”
“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”
You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.
“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.
“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.
“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.
“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”
2K notes · View notes
privitivium · 5 days
Note
ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
Tumblr media
workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
Tumblr media
738 notes · View notes
luveline · 11 months
Text
spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below
please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 
You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 
He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 
"Something looks wrong." 
You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 
"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 
He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 
"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 
"Gabs?" he asks. 
"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 
You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 
"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 
"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 
"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 
"Am I being weird?" he asks.
"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 
"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 
"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 
You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 
"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 
"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 
"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 
Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 
"Hm?" you hum in question. 
Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 
The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 
"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 
Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.
It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 
"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.
He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.
"Was it scary?" 
"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 
"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 
"Yeah, he did." 
"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 
"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 
You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 
You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 
You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 
"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 
"She's in her room. Call her." 
You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 
"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 
You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 
"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 
"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 
He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 
"Woah, careful." 
"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 
"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 
Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  
"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 
"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 
Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 
"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 
"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 
You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 
"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 
She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 
"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 
Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.
"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 
"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 
Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 
She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 
"What?" he asks.
"You're not doing the thing." 
"The thing?" 
You frown. 
"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 
He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 
He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 
Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 
"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 
He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 
When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 
You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 
"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 
"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 
"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 
"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 
"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 
You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 
Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 
"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 
His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 
"For what?" You blink. 
"I don't know." 
You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 
He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 
"You're really something special," he says quietly. 
"How so?" 
His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 
"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 
"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 
You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 
"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 
"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 
"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  
"I must have some good luck," he says. 
His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 
You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 
"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 
Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 
It's not a bad kiss. 
You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 
The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 
"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 
He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 
"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 
"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 
He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 
You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!
3K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 5 months
Note
you can't just give us the image of Simon holding hands during sex, now I need something to sleep on
Simon doesn't fuck— Simon makes love. Passionate kisses are exchanged as the clothes come off at an almost painfully slow pace, taking his time to savor every single second with you, to truly take in just what he's about to do with the woman he knows he'll spend the rest of his life with.
His kisses only stop when he has to take a few seconds to truly admire what's in front of him, to take in the sheer beauty, to look down at you like you're his savior. In many ways, you are. His rough, calloused hands go up to cup your cheeks, gently forcing your face up to keep eye contact as his forehead rests against yours. He swears he can see God every single time he looks into your eyes, ignoring his own reflection and focusing simply on everything they hold; your love, desire, yearning, lust.
You look at him like he's worth something— like he's not a mutt with matted hair who'll end up getting shot in an alleyway out of pure mercy. You look at him like a stray you took in, showing him love and compassion, appreciating the way his fangs are bared at the world but never at you.
He plants the gentlest kiss on your lips before he begins descending, leaving open-mouthed kisses that light fire on their way down. His rough hands are gentle only with you, pushing your body down on the mattress with so much tenderness you swear he thinks you're a rich fine china. He plants kisses down your stomach, eyes closing as he focuses on the sensation of your warmth against his lips, swallowing thickly before he opens your legs.
Teasing kisses and soft bites are given to your inner thighs before his lips finally find what he has been craving like a starved man. One last kiss is pressed to your mound, his tongue coming out of his lips to lick a flat stripe over your already wet cunt, his saliva and your fluids mixing together, giving him the chance to eat you out even better. It doesn't take long before he's latching onto your erect nub, alternating between rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and suckinf on it, your moaning only encouraging him to keep going.
Your back arches, hand coming down to gently pull on his cropped hair, pushing him even closer to your core, wanting to feel more of the intense sensation. He lets go of your clit for a second, his tongue now more focusing on gathering the wetness all over your entrance before pushing in, his thumb coming up under his face to rub on your clit, doing circular motions as his tongue goes in and out of your cunt.
"Si— need you." Your breathy whisper earns a deep chuckle out of him, planting a kiss on top of your wet cunt before finally breaking away, standing up to his full weight and pulling down his boxers. The sheer sight of his naked body never fails to amaze you no matter how many times you've seen it, his strong, tattooed body bare only for you to see. His vulnerability is and will always be reserved for a single woman; you.
He plants a soft kiss for your lips as he lines himself up, his cock big and heavy, veins visible on the length of his shaft, but he has trained you well enough to be able to take him. He sinks into you slowly, allowing you to get used to the stretch as he bottoms out, the small gasp that comes out of your lips is enough to make his eyes drift up to your face, taking in your expression. He sees nothing but pleasure, but he doesn't keep going until you nod your head and pull him closer.
His thrusts are deep and slow, hips rolling to make sure every single inch of his cock is buried all the way inside you, a thin layer of cream forming on the base of his shaft. He supports his weight with one of his elbows, not dropping his full weight on you yet in fears of hurting you, hips rolling over yours slightly faster to hear more of your whiny moans, his thin lips planting loving kisses all over your neck while his hand blindly seeks for yours, slight desperation in his actions, needing to hold onto you like a lifeline as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge.
His hand finally finds yours, fingers intertwining, squeezing softly to display love and reassurance; to bring both of you even closer while your bodies are connected, skin slapping against skin and combined moans forming a melody he thinks about often while he's away. His tongue licks a flat stripe over your pulse before his face seeks shelter on the crook of your neck, muffled moans and deep grunts playing right into your ear. Your legs wrap around his waist, fitting oh so perfectly like a missing puzzle piece, bringing him even closer to your throbbing cunt.
"Fuck, love—" The pressure of your thighs grows, both of you not even managing to form sentences between moans yet the squeezes you deliver to each other's hands are enough to communicate. Your walls tighten up around him, velvety tissue shortly being painted white with his thick cum, feeling him go all the way inside to make sure not a single drop is wasted.
He pulls out slowly after a few seconds of regaining your breath, planting a soft kiss to your forehead before rolling over next to you, his burly arms wrapping around your tired frame, keeping you safe. Not a single word is spoken between the lovers, only gentle kisses and loving gazes being exchanged while you recover. His hand seeks for yours again, this time examining it carefully; already picturing how good the ring he bought will look on you once you say yes.
2K notes · View notes
bandgie · 4 months
Text
Reactions To You Pissing During Sex
OT8!SKZ x fem!reader
a/n: this ask got me thinking tbh I can't stop myself.
warnings: MDNI 18+, pissing obvi, crying, some degrading
BANGCHAN! - truthfully he's just too good at fucking you. knows where all your good spots are and hits them with precision. he's gripping you by the waist and bringing you down on his cock. breasts bouncing and your hands clutching onto his wrists. - that warm, beautiful feeling builds, but it feels too intense, a little too familiar in your bladder. panic hits you but it's so hard to talk when all you can is moan and squeal. all you do is shake your head back and forth as a signal, but channie is so used to you doing that when he's in your pussy just right that he pays no mind to it - when you pee, he thinks you're squirting at first. then he sees the consistency, the color, the everything. he pulls out real quick, thinking he's hurt you or its uncomfortable for you. which in fact, is completely wrong! it feels so good to pee mid orgasm, overwhelming actually - the realization gets to you that you literally pissed on your lover, and with the high emotions, you can't stop yourself from crying. soft sobs and apologies tumble from your swollen lips, which makes Chan panic. he's soothing you immediately, telling you it's okay and that it's not a big deal. your tears nearly make him cry, he's such a softie!
"No baby don't cry! It's okay, I promise it's okay, im not mad! We can always take a shower yeah?"
MINHO - has you doggy style, hand reaching around to rub on your clit. his chest is completely on your back, the pressure of everything just feels so good. you're able to warn him, telling Minho that you think you're gonna piss. - thinks you're joking, laughs and slaps your puffy pussy. you keep repeating yourself over and over until it finally happens. hot liquid splashing on his fingers. - he flips you over immediately, looking at your hazy eyes and twitching limbs. you're still peeing as your lay flat on your back, and he's looking at you slightly aroused and slightly shocked -minho is very observant, and he watches your expressions to judge whether or not you're able to continue. you have such a fucked out face, your teeth biting on your lower lips as you look up at him shyly and embarrassed. - he laughs breathlessly, surprised by yours and his excitement about the whole thing. thrusts his cock in you a few times to see how you react. your legs immediately wrap around your waist to bring him closer, and your arch your back for him to hit your favorite spot.
"pissing yourself? how old are you again?"
CHANGBIN - oh he doesn't even notice. all he knows is that your pussy is his favorite and he's drowning in it. when he feels that warm splash on his tummy, he pays no mind to it. just adds to the wetness between your thighs - you're repeating his name over and over, but changbin's sooooo lost he just repeats yours the same way. - it's not until you have to reach up and grip his stomach, pulling to get his attention. thheennn he opens his eyes, and registers your wrecked state. soaked and writhing in pleasure. changbin coos and rubs your thighs, gripping the plushness. - he's so stuck on his headspace, that just mindlessly plays with all your slick on your clit and his stomach. changbin didn't hear you say any safe word, so he takes the green light to keep going. doesn't care if you pee more or not. he just adores those pretty little sounds you make. it's not until you're both laying on the bed, coming down from your highs and back down to earth that he finally realizes you wet yourself
"you peed!?! did you like it? I liked it, can you do that again next time?"
HYUNJIN - he loves everything about you, worships you even. you pee during sex? okay and? is he supposed to care? - ofc he would stop if it bothers you that much, but it's perfectly safe to say he doesn't find it gross in the slightest. it just means he's making you feel so good that you couldn't tell the difference. and he basks in the warmth of your piss, he weirdly finds it intimate - makes you feel better with plush kisses and hushed whispers. telling you that it feels nice and he loves all of you. makes you gush with cum this time, ugh he's such a sweetheart - I feel like he would get cocky about it too during sex. like wow he's that good? he lasts extra long when you pee, just watching your cunt flood with piss onto his stomach is a beautiful sight - kinda opens a door for him. doesn't take long before he's asking to pee on you. both of you are covered in absolute filth at the end, and a shower is much needed
"oh you're such a pretty angel for me. just got a little excited huh?"
HAN - hot. like Hyunjin, hannie just loves you down to the atoms. but peeing? oh he's in love - riding him while his hands play with your tits. your hands are splayed over his tiny waist when you feel the impending orgasm, with a little something else. you don't tell him though, you have a feeling he'd rather find it as a pleasant surprise - imagine his needy expression when he sees you pee all over his stomach. he moans at the sight and bucks his hips up into you. he can feel the liquid travel down his stomach onto the sheets, filling his bellybutton - oh he's beggingggg. for cum? for more piss? for you? who knows. but he's just saying please please please with little uh uh uh's and he's squeezing your breasts soooo hard, he's gonna leave little finger marks - cums real quick after that, but you just keep riding him. there's little splash noises and your knees are soaked from the piss stained covers, but he just looks so fucked out and in pure bliss
"Baby, baby oh fuck yes. More! Make me dirty."
FELIX - doesn't say anything about it, just keeps fucking you. he's not sure if it would embarrass you or anything, so he just waits for you to say something first - but he does really like how it looks. your moans are higher and you can't stop shaking. he swears your pussy is softer, wetter. he gets more vocal too, pushing your thighs up to your chest to fully expose your wet clit to him - ugh watching it squirt out of you onto his pelvis? oh he likes that a lot. rubs your sensitive nub to try and squeeze more out of you. smiles mischievously when you squeal and thrash, as if in warning - felix didn't know he could be this nasty, he enjoys that you're marking your territory in the most animalistically way possible. makes his eyes roll back, deep moans when he finishes inside you
"Fuck, you're so wet. Wanna taste you so bad."
SEUNGMIN - oh he's mean. asshole. you're squirming away from his brutal thrusts, pleading with him. oh but he wants you to. wants to see how mortified you get when you piss all over yourself. gives him a huge power trip - he'll go harder, pin your hands above your head so you can't cover yourself. laughs manically when you finally let go. his beautiful smile twists evilly when you softly sob. he'll hold both your wrists in one hand and use the other to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him - man he just loves that humiliating look on your features. the tears in your eyes, the quivering in your lips. makes your lips pucker open so he could spit in your mouth. if you wanna be nasty, seungmin is sure to leave you filthy - your cries turn into choked moans when he starts fucking into you again. it's too much, emotionally and physically, but you love being a good girl for him. he always makes sure to make it up to you afterwards anyway
"Did you really pee on yourself? You really are just a dumb puppy."
JEONGIN - it's really his fault, you wouldn't have peed if it weren't for his actions. he read on the internet that if you press down on your partner's stomach while you fuck them, it makes their orgasms much more extreme. - yes, but at a cost. your release feels beyond amazing, seeing stars in the midst of it. you dont even recognize yourself going pee because everything just feel so good. head thrown back, back arched, eyes rolled, god you're cumming hard - he's in shock. the article didn't mention anything about this. his thrusts slow, but he was soooo close to his own release that he can't fully stop. plus you seem to having a rather fun time, it would be a terrible idea to pull out - you're clenching on his cock repeatedly, pussy fluttering around his cock from your intense orgasm. your cream mixed with piss is surprisingly a good combination to i.n. - everything just sounds so wet, but you hardly have the mind to care. just that pleasurable thrusting in your walls that hit your deepest part numb your senses. are you cumming again? are you pissing? squirting? doesn't matter, you just don't want him to stop - it's after you're both clean and snuggled that i.n shyly tells you of your accident.
"Your pussy felt so good like that. Is it weird that I liked it?"
2K notes · View notes
eustasskidagenda · 7 months
Text
anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?
Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡
☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000
You can read the part two here & the part three here
Tumblr media
Kid
Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 
Seriously, Kid, ugh. 
So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.
Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 
Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 
So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 
"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.
Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 
He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"
He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.
"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.
He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 
"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 
And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.
Tumblr media
Zoro
Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?
He's trying his best.
Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 
He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 
Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 
"Now open your legs for me" 
Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 
He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 
Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 
If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.
"Such a brave girl"
Tumblr media
Law
As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 
He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 
"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 
As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 
He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 
And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.
"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 
He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.
Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 
"You're ready?" 
He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"
Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.
Tumblr media
Sanji
Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.
Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 
Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 
Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 
Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.
As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)
You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.
Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 
Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 
Sanji is so sweet please, help.
2K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 7 months
Text
Eddie Munson gets famous at fifteen, after a YouTube video goes viral.
He's the kind of famous where he can't leave his house without being mobbed; where his name is plastered across grocery store tabloids and every fifth Pop Crave post; who has to make special arrangements with stores, whose body guards have body guards, who's forgotten what it's like to be normal. He's the kind of famous with well-chronicled stints in and out of rehab
And he thinks, at thirty, why not do a reality show? Why not let everyone in the world into his life because they're there anyway?
There's this guy on the crew, beautiful as a fucking sunrise. He's all golden-tanned and chestnut-haired, with these big hazel eyes that makes Eddie stomach swoop deliciously whenever they happen to meet his.
His name is Steve.
And Eddie, well. He's learned his lesson about jumping into relationships. So, Steve is nice to look at, and that's all there is to it.
---
They're at the studio, and Eddie, he only smokes when he's recording but he's "not allowed" to do that inside. So, he steps out into the alley behind the building, eyes falling shut as he hands search his pockets for his pack of Camels and his Zippo.
"I didn't realize you smoked," a deep voice says from the darkness.
Eddie startles, eyes flying open. Steve is leaning against the brick of the building, cigarette perched between his pursed lips.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Steve. With the crew."
"Eddie," he answers by instinct.
"I know," Steve chuckles. His hazel eyes are golden in the yellow streetlight.
"Oh, right." He lights his cigarette and inhales deep.
"I really like what you're doing in there." Steve nods his head towards the studio.
"You a fan?"
"Never listened to you much before. Not really a metal kinda guy, but I like it."
People aren't usually honest with Eddie. It's refreshing.
"Glad you're getting into it! How's your--uh, job going?"
Steve laughs. "First assistant camera, that's my job." Eddie's expression must read a total blank, but Steve only smiles. "I make sure everything's in focus while we film"
"Is that--hard?"
"Sometimes," Steve agrees. "How do you like being the star of a reality show?"
Eddie huffs out a breath. "It's more fun than I expected. Like, sure it's weird to have you guys follow me around, but at least I invited you, you know?"
Steve's dark eyes are fathomless in his perfect face. "You'll let me know? If anything happens that you don't like?"
Eddie nods, taken aback by the serious line of Steve's pretty mouth. Before he can respond more, the back door creaks open, Gareth's backlit shape leaning into the alley. "Eddie? They're ready for you."
"Duty calls." He smiles at Steve as he stomps out his cigarette. "See you around."
---
Eddie goes to a house party in the hills. It's just a handful of people, all of them he's known for years, no cameras in sight.
Someone asks how things are going with the band. Eddie doesn't think anything of it. Why should he, among friends? Why should he when they already know the resentment that Gareth, Jeff, and Freak have for him? Eddie got signed and not his band. The guys--they never really forgave him, think he could have tried harder.
So, he says--he says--"I wish they didn't resent me so goddamn much still. To this day! They're millionaires and they're pissed at me? Fuck that. I got them here. I got us all here."
They're filming the next day at Eddie's house. He's working on a new song, engrossed in his acoustic and his notebook.
He's so in the zone, it takes him a second to register when Gareth bursts into the house.
"Fuck you, Munson," Gareth screams. "What the fuck is this shit?" Eddie's own voice pours from Gareth's phone, and Eddie's stunned speechless for dozens of seconds as he tries to comprehend what's happening.
"I didn't--" he tires. He raises his hands placatingly, but his minds a whirlwind, thoughts a tangle, heart a mess of betrayal and hurt and fear.
"We should be fucking grateful?" Gareth yells. "You spoiled piece of shit, fuck you!" He lunges towards Eddie, but Steve darts from behind the camera, moving to block Gareth's path.
"Stop filming," Eddie shouts. He lifts his arms to block the shit. "Get out," he snaps at the crew. " Now!"
He and Gareth scuffle towards a set of double-doors, heated words low and unintelligible.
"Don't come in." He tells the crew. "Steve, I mean it. Tell them to stop."
Eddie shoves Gareth into the other room, slamming the door behind him. Still, the mics pick up the screaming fight between the two men.
Hours later, Eddie finally makes his way back to the main part of the house, finds Steve standing at the kitchen island.
"Why are you still here?" He's too exhausted from the fight to put any inflection into it.
"I was wo--I wanted to make sure everything was okay," Steve says. He relaxes against the island. "Are yo--is everything okay?"
Eddie's laugh is humorless. "Something like that."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The tears he kept at bay with Gareth prick at his eyelids until they burn. "Not really, no."
Steve nods. "We could--you wanna watch a movie?"
This startles a laugh out of Eddie, one that has tears flooding his eyes and he has to blink fast, look down, anything so Steve doesn't notice.
"You know what I want?" he says. It's soft enough that maybe Steve, across the kitchen, wouldn't hear.
"What?"
"To have friends who won't sell me out for a couple thousand bucks." The tears start falling, his throat choked with emotion.
He wants to stop, embarrassed to be crying in front of Steve, but now that he's started, sobs shake his shoulders and he can't keep quiet.
Steve reaches for him. "Is this okay?" he whispers, hands rubbing circles against his back.
Eddie nods, cries for a while as Steve makes soothing motions against his back.
"I just wish I was normal," he mumbles when he has words again.
Steve's hold on him tightens. "I'm sorry, Eddie."
Shame hits him then, too hard to ignore, and he steps away. "I'm gonna--I'm gonna go. I--Thanks again."
He ignores the sound of Steve calling him back.
---
Eddie's playing a show. He's playing a show in a small club, something he hasn't been able to do for years, but he's doing it right now. It's electric, vibrating through his body, the crowd screaming along with every word.
So much of this is because of Steve, and Eddie can't think about it, because men like Steve aren't for guys like Eddie.
As he plays, his eyes scan the small crowd, find Steve easily. He's gazing at Eddie, lips slicked pink and parted, eyes shining. Eddie knows this look; the naked desire obvious. A heat he never lets himself feel for Steve blooms low in his abdomen, but--
He wails into his mic, forcing his thoughts away from that path. He has a show to play, one that's pumping his veins full of satisfied adrenaline. Nothing can ruin it.
When the show ends, Eddie is high, endorphins and adrenaline pounding through his bloodstream.
Eddie, the band, and the film crew make their way out the club's backdoor. There's a car idling close by, but they only get a few steps in before there's shouting; the ear-shattering click of dozens of camera shutters; overwhelming burst of flashes.
Eddie is disoriented, dizzy; the rapid shift from the best night he's had in years, to this, mobbed by paparazzi, people screaming his name, crowding their small group. He stumbles, black spots still obstructing his vision.
Arms catch around him, holding him steady. "You okay?" Steve asks.
Before he can answer, one of the paps yells, "Munson's wasted! Can't even walk!"
"C'mon, Ed, I've got you," Steve says.
"Just get into the booze, Munson, or someone had Molly too? Maybe a little coke? That used to be your thing, right? Snort a little blow and do a show?"
Eddie tenses, almost stops, but Steve keeps him going.
The crowd surges around them, more voices yelling, more flashbulbs popping, the guy saying, "He can't even stand without help! You got a real problem you know?"and he just--can't anymore. He whirls out of Steve's grasp, lunges for the guy.
"What's your fucking problem, man?" Eddie hisses. "What did I do to you, huh?"
"Real tough, Munson, huh?" The man sneers. He shoves Eddie hard, knocking him back a few steps.
Eddie's vision fuzzes out, brain buzzing. He snarls, knows he does, knows he's losing it, can't make it stop.
Strong arms wrap around his waist, pull him off his feet. He fights it until he's pressed into a wall, until cold hands cup his face.
"Baby, baby, you have to calm down," Steve murmurs. "You have to breathe, can you do that for me?"
"I want--he can't--I--"
Steve presses harder against him, bodies joined. "You're having a panic attack, yeah? Can you breathe with me, baby? Match me?"
Eddie nods, tries, wants to be good for Steve.
He calms, as much from the breathing exercise as being held by the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Pressing his face against Steve's neck he says, "why are you always around for my worst moments? I'm such a fucking mess."
"I don't think you're a mess," he says. "I think you've gotten hurt, you've gotten cornered. And your reactions are normal."
"Why do you even care?" Eddie asks.
Steve doesn't even pause. "Cause I like you, Eddie." His hold tightens for a second. "I like you a lot."
Eddie scoffs. "Yeah, you like Eddie Munson, the hot rockstar. Not the loser who cries in your arms"
Cold air hits Eddie as Steve steps away to meet Eddie's eyes. You want to know something? I didn't expect to like you at all. I admit, I bought into all the stories on the internet. But you were never anything like that, Ed. Not even once."
Steve takes a deep breath, turning away as his cheeks grow pink. "And you--you're always going out of your way for people. The day I knew I was gone for you? Three weeks into filming. There was this kid interning. You didn't know a thing about him, just some twenty-year-old, and you sat down and talked to him. Were genuinely interested in everything he said."
"Steve," Eddie's voice breaks. He has to cover his mouth, lips a wobbling mess.
"I want to give you normal, Eddie, as much as I can. If you'll let me."
The moisture tumbles free from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. Eddie laughs. "God, Steve, you're--I like you, too."
Steve brushes the tears away. "So, you'd go on a date with me?"
"I think I would really like to go on a date with you, yeah."
Steve leans in, slow and gentle, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Eddie's mouth. It lights him up like a fresh struck match, nerve endings on fire. He thinks it's so much more than like already.
"Take me home, sweetheart," he says.
"Getting fresh with me, Munson," Steve smirks. "I won't have you using your rockstar wiles to seduce me."
Eddie's laugh echoes off the brick of the surrounding buildings. "Oh, sweetheart, my rockstar ways will destroy you."
"That a promise?"
---
Six months later, the first and only season of Welcome to Hell premieres. Instead, of chronicling a rockstar's debauched and wild lifestyle, it's a soft and charming love story. It shows Steve and Eddie growing closer, Steve working late into the night, to give Eddie the hint of normalcy he's so desperate for, to make him happy. It shows Eddie's eyes track Steve across a room, something like sadness crossing his face. It shows a concert that Steve arranged, the fight with the pap outside the venue, brief glimpses of Steve and Eddie in the aftermath, the gentle kiss.
In the last interview of the season, the producer asks Eddie if there will be a season two of Welcome to Hell.
Eddie smiles, glances off camera, which pans to find Steve in worn jeans and a Metallica hoodie, hair messy and wearing glasses. He gazes at Eddie, smiles this soft, aching thing.
"Nah, I don't think I need it anymore," Eddie answers. Throwing the camera a smile that matches Steve's.
2K notes · View notes
koishua · 28 days
Text
★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.
Tumblr media
! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory
Tumblr media
━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.
the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.
heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?
━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘
the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.
your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.
you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.
━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄
layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.
days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.
the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.
this is his dreamland.
Tumblr media
notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊���
633 notes · View notes
xo-cod · 7 months
Note
Hiii!! ummm… could u write sth fluffy for Simon w/ his pregnant wife pls it's ok if u can't love your stuff btw❤️
i don't even like babies but i'd give this man everything 😮‍💨😵‍💫😵‍💫 he's so fucking fine 😭
hope you enjoy babe <33 it's rushed i know 😭
Tumblr media
"no. absolutely not. you set that down right now" before you could even breathe, you heard the stern command of your husband right behind you. it was in the same voice he used when he spoke to johnny or gaz, telling them to behave and stop messing about or to the recruits that joined. either way, it was a voice primarily used by ghost. not by simon who was your dearest husband
"si... i can handle this" you sigh, raising a brow as you turn around. he has that frown on his face, creasing his forehead while his lips were set in a straight line. it would've been adorable and had you not been a little annoyed, you might've marvelled at how beautiful simon looked even when he was annoyed
"you're eight months pregnant. the only lifting you need to be doing is taking your arse from the sofa to bed" he swooped in and took the box from you, holding it in his hands as he chuckles softly. he gave you a sweet kiss to your lips, nuzzling your cheek a little
"m'sorry love but you know how i feel about you bending and lifting anythin'. you'll hurt yourself or the baby. i couldn't bear that" he grimaced slightly, shaking his head to rid the thought of any injury to you. your unimpressed face brings a soft chuckle to his lips as he sets down the box on the side, wrapping his arms around your waist as he caressed your swollen belly. his chin rested on your shoulder as he took in how far along you were. and how beautiful this was, the greatest gift you could've ever given him.
he knows the strain this pregnancy is having on your body and every single pain you experience makes his heart ache because he can't get rid of it for you. even with his support and assistance and help, your pains still make him feel so guilty for being the one to do this to you even if you both wanted it. he's a little more clingy during the last trimester of the pregnancy, he almost damn nears having a heart attack when you want to help and carry objects that are a pound heavier.
it's just in simon's nature to care deeply and it doesn't help all the parenting books he's read up on makes him that much more protective over you. still, he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he tries to hold back even if it nearly kills him in doing so.
"you look so goddamn beautiful, lovie" he hummed softly in your ear, his thumb stroking tender circles on your hip whilst he gently rocked you both side to side
"you're just saying that" a soft chuckle leaves your lips and he narrows his eyes a little, amused at your words
"you know i've never lied to you before and i don't intend startin that now. you're beautiful. you're so beautiful to me, baby" he spoke with nothing but pure sincerity in his voice, his dark brown eyes sparkling underneath the living room lights. they're just so expressive, you can't help but lean into him with pure love at how you could've scored such a perfect guy.
it's such a warm intimate moment shared between the two of you, his hand gently rubbing over your baby bump while he holds holds you close. his whole family in his arms <33
2K notes · View notes
teddybeartoji · 7 days
Text
snow leopard!gojo, who pounces on you in the early morning, brushing his nose against yours. he nips at the soft skin of your cheek and then at your earlobe, giggling to himself as you begin to stir under him.
cracking open your eyes, you're met with a giddy big cat. his tail can't stop twirling around – he's just so excited. he bumps his nose into your again with a big grin before pulling back and situating himself onto your lap. he's so cute.
he thinks you're cute, too. all sleepy and comfy and warm. he watches you rub the remaining sleep from your eyes with a yawn and he wiggles his hips on top of you, diverting your attention back to him. he points to the window with way too much enthusiasm and he revels in the way your eyes widen at the sight.
big snowflakes dance in the air and it just looks so beautiful. no wonder why he's so revved up. the light from outside illuminates the whole room and you take the moment to admire him. his pretty crystal-blue eyes are glued to the window; snowflakes swim in the pupils and he's perfect. white hair and white eyelashes, he looks like a proper snow angel. his dark fuzzy ears twitch and a smile makes its way onto your face.
his tail swings by you and you grab onto it gently. it's so soft. you let it swirl around your hand and fingers and now he's staring at you. his lips are so pink and so are his cheeks. and the tip of his nose. he's extremely excited.
so, you usher him off with a laugh, ordering him to put some warm clothes on while you do the same.
he doesn't need as many layers as you do and he thinks you look absolutely adorable all bundled up like that. he fake-bites your nose just before stepping out, making your face scrunch up with a laugh. pulling on your gloves, you rush after him. his eagerness is rubbing off on you, there's no fighting it. he looks so happy and that's making you happy, too.
satoru doesn't waste a second before diving into the snow. he literally dives in head first and you stare at him in shock. his head pops back up and he has the most beautiful smile on his face. he shakes his head like a wet dog, making the snow fly everywhere. his eyes lock onto you and you know what's coming. backing up with a nervous laugh, you try to escape your boyfriend but you can't.
his giggles echo over the street as he tackles you into the ground. soft snow breaks your fall but it doesn't really matter because the only thing you feel right now are the butterflies in your stomach. he's so close. his whole body rests on top of you and it's nothing new; it's ridiculous, how he still has this effect on you. he brushes a few stray hairs from your face and his breath fans over you.
"you're so pretty."
his voice is gentle, the syllables falling from his lips just like the snowflakes outside. slow and full of love, ready to engulf you completely in them. there are stars in his eyes as he stares down at you – dainty flakes adorn his hair and his cheeks are redder than ever. he's perfect.
he presses a quick kiss to your lips and then he's already scrambling off of you, leaving you in the pile with a flustered expression. when you push yourself onto your ass, you see him rolling around in the snow and you can't surpress the loud laugh that creeps up your throat. his head whips towards you and he gives you another bashful grin. your heart feels so full.
satoru is laying down on his stomach and he's wriggling his ass like a real cat. he looks silly (and so fucking cute). his big crystal eyes stare at you over the snow pile and your cheeks hurt from smiling. he plays his part in being a big bad predator and he lunges at you again, proud of the sounds spilling from your lips. you spend another fifteen minutes by running away from him. by throwing snowballs at him. by getting tackled. by laughing so hard that you almost piss yourself. and by getting kissed stupid. he can't keep his hands away from you for more than a minute and you couldn't be any happier.
698 notes · View notes