#i do hope it’s an anthology series though

[daisynik7]

Rub You the Right Way

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.

Author’s Notes: First Choso fic! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Consider this my unofficial return from hiatus. Enjoy! Divider by the wonderful and super talented @/cafekitsune!

part 7 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime. 

You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him. 

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.

“Thank you so much!”

As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment. 

It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside. 

~~~

Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him. 

“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets. 

It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him. 

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.  

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.

At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?

Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely. 

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck. 

~~~

It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.  

Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.

Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next. 

“Fuck!” 

An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it. 

It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”

You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him. 

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand. 

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!” 

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.”  It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering. 

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”

You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”

~~~

Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants. 

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows. 

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything  and – 

“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more? 

“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.

He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating. 

“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.  

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself. 

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly. 

More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer. 

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!” 

It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real. 

He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”

At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you. 

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x you

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much. 

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed. 

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life. 

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers. 

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box. 

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not. 

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route. 

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room. 

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms. 

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him. 

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes. 

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows. 

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head. 

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him. 

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby. 

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction. 

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered. 

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way. 

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded. 

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out. 

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction. 

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

#harunovella writes; #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x y/n #fushiguro toji x you #reader insert #fem reader #toji x female reader #toji fluff #jjk x you #jjk au #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸

info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending

note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !

the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.

because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.

the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.

regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.

you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence. 

“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.

you believe him. 

your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”

“got me there,” you softly admit.

geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”

the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.

“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”

with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.

you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.

“okay, let’s talk.”

the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.

it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.

you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”

he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”

you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”

“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”

the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now–how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.

it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.

you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.

“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.

you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?

“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”

geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”

“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”

there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again. 

the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?

tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.

you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.

“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.

one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”

the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?

you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.

“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”

geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.

his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”

beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.  

you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”

there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.

“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”

you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.

you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”

geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”

“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”

“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.

hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #jjk x you #geto drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[sunboki]

003. SPRING IS FOR US — ANTHOLOGY

PAIRING. Seo Changbin x afab. reader | WORD COUNT. 2.4k & 15 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing, eventual pregnancy, insecurity, anxiety, reader has a period, implied smut | TROPE. fluff, suggestive, angst, comfort

( ✉️ ) — absolutely crazy about him, that’s all i have to say for myself…

Spring is supposed to be a time for second chances and new life, yet when you propose the idea of starting a family there are some doubts from Changbin who isn’t confident in his abilities as a father despite how much he wants to.

Seo Changbin wants to be a dad.

He wants to be a dad so bad it nearly kills him. Hell, the mere thought has his heart exploding in his chest.

Things like this aren’t as simple as that though. They’re fickle, they’re sensitive. Eternally fragile in his fingertips while he tirelessly keeps them from breaking.

He’s willing to carry that, carry the responsibility, the weight, for the rest of his life.

He just hopes you feel the same.

.

.

.

Traditionally, spring is the time of new life and second chances, with puppies up for adoption and maternity discounts going on in every store you walk into.

Granted, the idea of having kids never really occurred to you, but it didn’t mean you hadn’t thought about it once or twice.

“How many?” You ask, a puff of air falling from your lips as you stir the stone pot, warmth seeping upwards in warm tendrils of steam. He leans in front of you, catching an unexpected, sugary kiss.

“Four, please,” Changbin responds, dishing his bowl off the table to hand to you, who carefully loads each pork-filled delicacy into the porcelain.

He’s rid of his coat, and the tight-fitted tee underneath leaves little to the imagination while gazing up at you with curious brown eyes. Adorably polite, even after all these years together.

In fact, it’s one of countless charming things about being in love with Changbin. That and the diamond resting upon your ring finger, a new addition to the household.

He smiles softly, watching you admire the gleaming jewel. Because even months later, the same childish excitement of being married still has butterflies erupting in his stomach.

Engaged was one thing, but this—now this was better than he could’ve ever imagined.

Oftentimes he wonders how he got so lucky.

“These dumplings are the best.” He mumbles, words muffled from the big bite being chewed in puffy cheeks.

The atmosphere is comfortable, leaving only the sound of your breathing and eating hummed against the air conditioner. Although, glancing around your apartment, the lingering thought from earlier striked you again.

What if, hypothetically, a little one roamed around? Your little one.

Imagining a mini Changbin made you practically squeal, unable to contain the grin stretching at your cheeks.

Your husband noticed, of course, sending you a mildly confused stare. And after a few long moments of his questioning stare and an equally questioning tip of his head, It was too difficult to keep quiet anymore.

“Binnie, what do you think about having a baby?”

There’s a silence, then he chokes, fist pounding at his chest to help swallow the bite of food lodged in his throat. That was the last question he’d expected to hear tonight.

“A.. A baby?” He stammers, sporting a look of disbelief.

It’s not like he didn’t want a kid, but this was the first time you’d ever mentioned the topic, he felt he had the right to be slightly shocked.

Observing the way your expression falters at his hesitation has every particle in his body scrambling to say something—something that would ease the crease furrowing between your brows.

He was never one to deny you of anything, and he loved the idea of settling down. Just one thing. Knowing how much of an amazing mother you would be had a pit of anxiety pooling in his gut. Questions like "would I be a good father figure?” and the fear of not being there for his child made his palms sweat, gaze hurriedly flickering left and right.

“Baby I—“

“Bin, it’s okay. I’m not saying I want to get pregnant tomorrow or anything, and besides, this is something I need your decision on too.” You ease, taking his hand in yours.

He feels himself loosen, visibly relaxing into your touch.

Changbin slowly inhales.

“I’m just worried I won’t be good enough. As a dad, as a husband.”

And to say your heart broke was an understatement.

In your opinion, Changbin was everything a father should be already. He was kind, compassionate, and effortlessly gentle despite his bulging muscles. Plus, to see him look so downcast, so concerned, had you rising to your feet and beckoning a hug.

A hug of which was definitely needed from how he simply dissolved in your arms, head tucked into your neck, taking in the scent of your shampoo—his shampoo.

“You’re everything a father should be. So don’t doubt yourself too much, okay?”

He snuggled closer (as if that was possible), and it wasn’t before his shoulders shook against you that you pulled away, met with the sight of hot tears littering his waterline.

There’s something special about it. Something special about him when it comes to you, because no one else in the entire world could witness Changbin this vulnerable, this emotional.

When with you, however, he lets his walls fall down.

You had to be a truly special person to have that trust.

Thumbing away the salty tears and kissing his trembling lips, he slips his hand against the small of your back, holding you against his chest while the other rests on your cheek, caressing the skin there.

Your dishes sit long unfinished on the table by the time you pull apart, nearly toppling over on the couch before having to stop and catch your breath.

Changbin chuckles, hair tousled and disarrayed in every direction. He softly squeezes your hip.

“Being completely honest, I might pass away from how cute you’d look y’know,” He mumbles, and you cock an unconvinced brow.

“Are you saying I don’t look cute now?” Amusement evident in your tone, you laugh when he buries his head into your chest, nearly blood-red in the face.

Crying out rather pathetically, your fingers intertwined once more, him peering up at you.

“You know what I mean..”

“Mmm, do I?”

Without response, he unexpectedly fixes his grip on the back of your thighs, lifting you up with ease to prop on the counter while you’re busy adoring his downright boba eyes.

Bantering back and forth with his lips giving your neck the utmost attention, you have to stop yourself from going any further when he begins slipping off the fabric of your bottoms, lightly pushing him away while claiming the dishes needed to be done.

And, albeit a tad bit embarrassing, the dish's excuse was more for the sake of not making a decision you’d regret. Since, Changbin, especially now that baby fever had definitely settled in, only had one thing on his mind and one thing only.

Knocking you up as soon as possible.

So, yeah, best to keep him out of the bedroom until you were both fully sensible adults and not desperately trying to get into each other's pants in the kitchen.

.. .

Changbin can’t name any sensible reason as to how or why he ended up in the baby section.

Somehow, his legs miraculously managed to lead him here, awkwardly shifting through aisles like a naughty teenager who snuck off to snoop around the lingerie section of a department store. Infatuated.

Hand trembling toward the pink cloth, he flinches back immediately, stung. Spending a few minutes debating on reaching out again, he hesitantly analyzes the onesie, taking in the soft baby blue collar lining and matching bib.

A stupidly giddy smile threatens to show, yet the momentary lightheartedness is quickly replaced with that feeling. That feeling of pooling dread that makes his stomach twist itself into knots, makes him automatically back up.

Fumbling with thoughts and the task of fishing his phone from his pocket, he instinctively calls the person he trusts the most (second to you, obviously). Chan.

Third being Han, but he knows the response would be along the lines of: “Let’s hope the baby doesn't end up with your genes.” So no, he’d rather not.

Wasting no time, his words seem to pour out like a waterfall. Messy, involuntary.

“Hey, uh, do you think I’d be a good dad?”

There’s a short pause, and then Chan’s skeptical voice sounds through the line, piquing with surprise.

“Wait– is Y/n pregnant?”

“No! I mean, no, not yet.” He corrects himself, feeling his face grow hot as a few shoppers spare looks his direction.

“Yet?”

Changbin sighs.

“Look, Chan, can I come over?”

Immediately his friend answers, voice as kind and welcoming as usual. He can visualize the normally taut demeanor softening, eyes transforming into crescent moons that disappear when he smiles. He’s always been that way.

“Yeah yeah of course, it’s just Jisung and I here anyway.”

Almost as soon as the call ends he’s already halfway out the door, keys jingling in hand and more than happy to be away from his mind’s forsaken hellscape (a.k.a the baby clothes section).

Stupid, sure, but when everything in your world is screaming at you to have a kid while you’re at mental war with yourself, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Luckily, his friends are there to help.

And of course, it just so happened he ran into a pregnant woman going up the stairs, heaving a hefty amount of groceries that he insisted he’d carry for her.

At this point he’s not entirely certain if it’s a sign or a haunting.

Landing an exasperated knock on the door, Changbin welcomes the smell of sandalwood along with the reassuring hug he received as well. Although, the feeling of relief was short-lived once Chan insisted he retell the story from square one.

If Changbin would have known this would turn into a therapy session, he would’ve stayed home. But knowing his friend only wanted to help, knowing he needed the help, he kept himself glued to the kitchen chair.

About thirty minutes into his conversation, Jisung enters from the hallway, toothbrush casually hanging from the side of his mouth. He gives Chan a look, but doesn’t say anything else, plopping down in the opposing seat wordlessly.

“Changbin.”

Chan’s tone interrupts his apology, helping him catch his breath after so ruthlessly spilling his guts to either of them.

“Do you want this?” He asks, giving Changbin time to process his erratic spiel.

Does he? Does he want this? Want a kid, want a kid with you?

Yes.

He wants to be a dad. He wants to be a dad so badly it nearly kills him.

“And Y/n does too?”

A nod.

“Then that’s it. You think so much you ruin stuff for yourself. Just enjoy, alright?” Chan recalls, and the rapper decides if he wasn’t producing music he could pass as a therapist.

Chan is a “just enjoy” kind of guy, a dude that despite weighing the world on his shoulders (and the industry), experienced life unabashedly. It was something he always admired.

Before now, Changbin never thought of himself as a worrier. In fact, he was probably the most laid back of his friends. When you’re involved, however, his wiring trips, and he falls ten times harder every second.

He hates how his fingers shake when hugging Chan again. He also hates the shit-eating grin slapped across Jisung’s face while gathering his stuff to leave.

“I bet fifty bucks it’ll be an ugly baby with your genetics!” Jisung shouts from behind him, watching him disappear onto the elevator. Changbin chuckles knowingly.

Called it.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t have been more dead-set on something in his life. Because from the moment you stepped inside, Changbin has you caged between him and the door.

“You want a baby?” He begins, knee wedging your legs apart. You airily gasp, mumbling into his saccharine lips.

“Bin-” You breathe, fingers gently pushing the messy black strands away from his eyes. He raises up to earn a sigh of your approval, and through hasty steps, you’ve managed to get to the bedroom.

It seemed like your predicament a week ago was finally getting its part two.

He’s crawled on top of you now, thumbing the clasp of your bra. ‘You don’t have to–”

“I want to, I’ve wanted to.” Last words coming out a tad bit lower than his usual tone, he returned to giving much needed attention below your ear, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you sink into the mattress below, drifting away in the pleasure he provided.

It’s so reviving. And despite always being reviving, you can tell the intentions are different this time. He’s taking his time with you, the honey on his lips being sure to kiss every inch of you. Savoring, remembering.

All you can hear is the numbed sound of your clothing dropping to the floor and the feather-light contact of his open-mouthed kisses, scent invading every sense and lulling you into utter contempt.

Not fucking, making love.

It feels like you’re melting.

He maps every curve, adores each flaw, kisses away the tears that drip down your face because it’s so intimate, overwhelming tides of his love swallowing you whole.

You’d be content dying like this.

But you can’t, and your husband won’t let you. He breathes air back into your lungs, forces you awake when you wish to sleep forever.

He cares, he cares thoughtlessly, deeply. He cares when you tell him you love him, bodies effortlessly connected. And he replies the same, a whisper, a mantra among your sweat and tears.

Melting away. Far, far away.

.. .

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, sweaty grip holding the tests in each hand as the timer on your husband's phone ticks by.

How you haven’t passed out from nervously holding your breath is a mystery. Granted, in the back of your mind you have a hunch, especially with your period being late too, but that doesn’t make this any less crucial.

He’s squatting between your legs while you sit on the toilet, and in any other circumstance you would’ve called it crazy. Nevertheless, this wasn’t any other circumstance.

Thumb rubbing comforting circles atop your thighs, the buzz of his phone has you sporadically trembling, waiting.

He gently cups your face in his hands, landing a kiss on your nose.

“You know I love you, right?”

And you stifle a tearful reply. A tearful “I love you” murmured before flipping the tears over and witnessing two identical plus signs staring right back at you.

Both of you stop breathing, and Changbin’s gaze repeatedly shifts from the box showing what lines are positive and what aren’t before gradually lifting his head to you, watery smile adorning his features.

“Binnie, I’m pregnant.”

> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#stray kids x reader #straykids x reader #stray kids x y/n #straykids x you #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz suggestive #straykids fluff #stray kids suggestive #stray kids fluff #seo changbin x y/n #seo changbin x you #seo changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin comfort #changbin x you #changbin angst #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #stray kids changbin #straykids changbin

[collecting-stories]

I just imagine nuzzling into rick grimes’ s neck after a long day and him just stroking my hair.

Birch - Rick Grimes

Summary: just some escapism featuring Rick being soft and dreamy.

A/N: Thanks for being so super patient. I know this was requested eons ago and I so apologize. Feels like life is knocking me around a lot lately and I haven't gotten to write like I want to.

TS Anthology Series | The Walking Dead Masterlist

✰ so I cannot leave, yes, I must here stay ✰

There was no sure way to determine exactly what hour of the day it was, probably mid-evening given the warmer temperature and the just setting sun. If daylights savings still existed and the sun was still setting at the time that it used to before the entire world fell apart then you had to wager a guess that it was sometime close to 7pm...maybe 7:30pm even. You had stayed on Eastern Standard Time, not that stuff like that even mattered anymore. Really the only thing you could be certain of was the ache in your joints and muscles and the fact that the sun was setting. Blue hour was upon you. 

Alexandria still felt relatively new, even after the few months that you'd been living inside the walls, but you had already gotten used to the possibility of a shower after a long day. It was impossible to tell accurate time and you made do waking up with the sun and trying your hardest to go to bed with it too, unless you found yourself the unlucky candidate for night watch. Tonight you had no responsibilities once you crossed the threshold into your house though, just a shower and food and sleep. You had planned it in that order but the moment you turned off the water and changed into clean clothes you were collapsing on the bed, your body sinking into the soft surface. You were halfway to being completely out of it when you felt the bed sink down behind you and you shifted onto your other side, coming face to face with Rick. 

"Well if this isn't the best sight in the world," you mumbled, moving in as close as possible, pressing a kiss on the underside of his chin.

"I asked Carl where you were when you weren't at dinner, he said you came up to shower."

"Hoping to catch me in a compromising position?" You teased though you were only half-aware of what you were even saying, still far too tired to be completely awake. 

"Oh most definitely," Rick laughed and you could feel the sensation of it. "You doing okay?"

"Just tired," you replied, nuzzling further into his neck, bread tickling your skin, as he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly. "You got stuff to do?"

Rick hummed in response. You couldn't see his face, but judging by the way that his hand had slowed its monotonous movements and his breathing was starting to even out you were certain that his eyes were closed and he was on the way to sleep. He mumbled something, too indiscernible in both your tired states for either of you to be confident in what it was.

"What?" You chanced asking, lifting your head just enough to see the underside of his chin, beard thick now that it had grown back in. 

"Got dinner," he managed, eyes still closed, "downstairs."

"We should get up then?" You asked, slowly coming back to the living.

He hummed again, shaking his head just slightly, enough to let you know that he disagreed with that suggestion. This was the first time in two days that he'd even managed to lie down in bed. Lately he'd been falling asleep sitting up on the couch and then staying up for watch or because Judith was restless or any number of other reasons that drew his attention away from the bed in the upstairs bedroom that the two of you shared. 

"Rick," you whispered, kissing his jawline as gently as possible, reluctant to really wake him unless he wanted to be woken up. 

"I'm getting up," he promised, though he made no move to actually get up. 

"I can see that."

"I am, just give me like, five more minutes of this," Rick replied. 

You tucked yourself back into his side, closing your eyes against the fading sunlight coming through the window. No doubt someone would be coming upstairs, knocking on the door and disturbing your peace soon; there was always something that someone needed Rick for. But at least for five minutes (or just right now) you could pretend like all that didn't exist and it was just the two of you. 

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes fic #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes blurb #the walking dead blurb #the walking dead imagine

[gffa]

Hey! What are your favorite Obi-Wan-centric books/comics, if I may ask? Have a nice day and may the force be with you

Hi! I have a bunch that I've enjoyed! Trying to keep this as Obi-Wan-centric as I can, though, honestly, for as much as he appears in a lot of stuff, he's not necessarily always the center of the best stuff for his character. NOVELS - CANON:

Padawan by Kiersten White - This book dethroned all other books for me to take the #2 spot of Lumi's Favorite Star Wars Book Ever! It's charming, it's thoughtful, it's good-natured, it's funny, it had a fun adventure, it gave Obi-Wan some hellion little best friends as a Padawan, and just made me fall in love with the world all over again.

Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure by Cavan Scott - The CYD books (same concept as Choose Your Own Adventure books) can be an acquired taste, but I found so many lovely moments in this book, some genuinely delightful details (MACE WINDU THEATRE NERD) and some great Obi-Wan & Anakin moments. Plus, Bant Eerin recanonization!

Brotherhood by Mike Chen - I have talked at length about the problems with the Anakin parts of this book (basically: if you take it at face value, it's pretty vile towards a Black character), but I have a ton of affection for the Obi-Wan half of this book. The way he moves with his feelings, acknowledges them and lets them pass through him, the way he genuinely cares about the Neimoidians, the way he tries to be thoughtful and you can see how deeply he cares about Anakin, is all really good.

From a Certain Point of View: A New Hope (specifically the first one, not the second one) has three short stories that are stellar for Obi-Wan: "Master and Apprentice" by Claudia Gray (make sure it's the ANH anthology, not the full novel by the same author), "There is Another" by Gary D. Shmidt, and "Time of Death" by Cavan Scott. All have either really lovely insights into Obi-Wan's character during ANH or have him being utterly hilarious.

NOVELS - LEGENDS:

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover - While not actually perfect, there are some things I don't fully agree with or think the book matched what was on the screen, when this book gets it right, it gets it so right that no other book has ever compared. This utterly elevates what was already my favorite Star Wars movie, and this man can turn a hell of a phrase.

Wild Space by Karen Miller - This is a book that I could pick apart in a lot of ways (it feels like two half-books stitched together rather than one coherent story, it doesn't earn its ending, it doesn't really do justice to the Jedi), but I love it because it's such an utterly dramatic book, everything about the events is larger than life, and has a spar with Obi-Wan and Anakin where he smacks Anakin on the ass, touches his face and tells him he did well and the look on Anakin's face in return almost makes Ahsoka cry because she's so touched, and contains the phrase "wringing wet and blowing hard" about their duel. Like, that's the kind of chaos you're in for and it's AMAZING.

COMICS - CANON:

Obi-Wan by Christopher Cantwell - It's only a five issue mini-series but it's a great look at Obi-Wan's character at various points in his life and I had so much to say about it, so I really felt it held up to analysis, and it really brought the feelings.

Obi-Wan & Anakin by Charles Soule - Another five issue mini and it does not get near enough credit for being tremendously well plotted and illustrating a lot of bigger points about Obi-Wan, Anakin, the Jedi, and the Republic, why good people were making the best choices available to them. Also, the single most gorgeous art I have ever seen in a comic.

Any of the Age of Republic comics by Jody Houser - These were a series of oneshots focused on various heroes and villains, and if you're specifically looking for Obi-Wan content, the Obi-Wan one and the Anakin one were FANTASTIC looks at the character.

Clone Wars: Battle Tales by Michael Moreci - Another mini-series and IIRC Obi-Wan was only in some of them, but he got some truly great moments of defending the clones and being an amazing leader in them.

COMICS - LEGENDS: These are so much harder because they're so spread out and often times it's just one or two issues that even have Obi-Wan in them. Ones I do remember enjoying:

The Clone Wars: The Smuggler's Code by Justin Aclin - A short graphic novel where Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka go on a beach vacation and run into a criminal from Obi-Wan's past and the entire story is UTTERLY UNHINGED, it's so hilariously over the top that I hyena laugh ever time I read it.

The Republic series from Dark Horse had a bunch of good Obi-Wan moments in it, if you don't mind paging through a lot of other characters. It's about all the Jedi, so they all get their turns, so I would suggest getting this one from your local library to find the issues you're most interested in!

Honestly, so much of reading SW books and comics is the willingness to pick out small fragments of gold amidst the bigger blargghh, like would I recommend Jedi Apprentice or Jedi Quest as some of my favorites? No, probably not, but that doesn't mean that Jude Watson didn't know how to turn a hell of a phrase and that I won't pull out fantastic quotes from those books! Would I recommend the Titan magazine comics? No, they're charming but the art is wonky a lot and they're too short to really go into much depth. If anyone has any comics recs to include, feel free to add on! The novels were easier to remember, but there have been so many comics that I feel like I'm missing some obvious ones.

#obi wan kenobi #novels recs #comics recs

[after-witch]

Hello hello, do you happen to have any movie/show rec for like dark content...?? I liked YOU but kinda lost interest around the second season lol. I love your work! You do seem to be like a soul who has great taste in media, so I just thought I'd ask. 😅 I could also use some media recs in general! Movies, music, shows, anything you love!Thank you so much! 💖

Hi! I don't really have any recs similar to You (IMO season 1 is the only like.... genuinely good season, though I wish it kept the books visceral darkness at the end) but here's some horror movies with darker content that I like-- (note this films may have graphic violence, sexual assault, other dark themes)

Zoo (2005); horror anthology based on a short story collection by Otsuichi. Some super fucked up stuff here. I also recommend the book!

Cabin By the Lake (2000); about a horror movie writer who gets some very direct inspiration for his works. Absolutely underrated gem!! It's got a bit of an obsessive/dark love feel to it. There is a sequel that is even more OTT, not as good as the first one though, but it's still neat.

The Night House (2020); A suddenly widowed woman starts having disturbing dreams in their shared home. LOVE IT. Actually have a prompt from last year's Horrorfest for this one that I'm working on.

The Last Exorcism Part II (2013); this film gets a bad rap!! It's got some creepy moments, an underlying theme of an obsessive demon... I suppose you should watch the first film before watching this one though.

Suicide Circle (2001); this film was my personality for way too long but it's still a damn good movie. Very dark, bleak, gory but in an OTT way. The sequel, Noriko's Dinner Table, is also very good.

Nightmare on Elm Street Series; I mean, they're classics. I'd say films 1, 2, 3 and "A New Nightmare" are essentials. But especially 1 and A New Nightmare. 2 is drastically different, 3 is when it starts getting silly with quips and gimmicks, but I love the character of Nancy who appears in 1 and 3 so...

So many more but my brain is blanking... hope this gets you started!! I will say "Zoo" and "Suicide Circle" are definitely the more extreme of these movies, maybe not to every horror fan's taste.

#ngl I think I'm bad at providing recs because my taste is just all over the place

[railingsofsorrow]

╚═══════ the originals masterlist ═══════╝

+ KEY: angst - A ; fluff - F ; trigger warning - TW! ; allusions to s3x - ¢ ; happy ending - ♡ ; not happy ending - ☂, not posted yet -✍ ; requested -♟]

( fyi: "old!" means it's an old work and my writing has improved since then. )

☆ ○ o。 ☆ 。 ○

‣ KOL MIKAELSON

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

drabble #1

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

we’re making flowers fly | reader shows hope how to make a little spell F, ♡ (old!)

jealous | kol mikaelson gets jealous when and old friend of reader seems too excited to see her. F, ♡ (old!)

apocalypse | reader finally understands what the three little words mean between them, and says it back. F, A, ♡ (old!)

✍ I know you're in love with me | based on this prompt list; kol is fed up with your antics... or is him? F, A, ♡

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

rules of gambling | assassin!reader is hired for a mission and kol mikaelson is the target. A, ♡, ♟

⟿ blueberries & ballrooms | sequel of rules of gambling. A, F, ♡, ♟

diving in | reader loses a lot in a short time, but an old friend tries to tell her that not everything is how it seems. A, ♡, ♟ (old!)

disruption of balance | kol mikaelson attempts to bring his lover back. A,TW!,♡, ♟ (old!)

firestorm parallels | reader helps kol learns self-control, but feelings weren’t on the table of this agreement. F, A, ♡, ♟

lucky one | reader gets cold feet and she decides to visit some old friends. A,F, ♡

paper rings | post-wedding bliss. F, ♡ ﹃ part of the t.s anthology (old!)

✍ love looks good on you ( even though I'm not the cause of it ) | it's the happiest day of your life: your wedding day! until he walks into the room minutes before you walk down the aisle. "how do you explain telling me you love me as I'm about to say yes to someone for the rest of my life?"﹃ based on this prompt list A, ☂

✍ the way I loved you | stefan salvatore is kind and sensible and you couldn't ask for anything better. but beneath the “you look beautiful tonight” you miss the screaming and fighting and the way his name slipped out of your lips at 2a.m. you liked assurance and perfection but you missed insanity. more than anything, you missed the way you loved him. you missed kol mikaelson. A, TW, ☂ ﹃ part of the “taylor swift anthology”

⟿ ✍ the way I loved you [alternate ending] A, TW, ♡

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✍ till death do us apart | A, F,

SERIES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✍ AGE OF THE DAMNED: Finding out things about yourself can be exciting and challenging. You're never ready for what life plans ahead for you. to Faye Harlow, that was clear the moment she turned seventeen; her world drowned her in uncertainty and nothing became more dangerous than unraveling her own secrets. “I'm staying whether you want me to or not.” “Do you have a death wish?” “You only realize that now?” A, F, TW!

‣ KLAUS MIKAELSON

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

loving you is all I know | you need silence and him but he doesn’t seem to understand that. A, F, TW!, ♡

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

‣ HAYLEY MARSHALL

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

‣ REBEKAH MIKAELSON

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unusual | reader and rebekah are together and rebekah wants to tell everyone but reader is still unsure. F, A, ♡, ♟ (old!)

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

‣ FREYA MIKAELSON

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

ONE-SHOT

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

SERIES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

‣ HOPE MIKAELSON

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

‣ THE MIKAELSONS (ALL PLATONIC)

DRABBLES

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

BLURBS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

time heals | reader’s family is attacked, but she’s left alive to get through the aftermath. A, F, ♡

always & forever | you and hope have a quarrel. there's spilled blood and a few apologies. A, ♟, ♡

the taste of your own tongue | reader storms out and ends up getting hurt, now it's up for her sisters to find her. A, ♟, ♡ (old!)

MULTICHAPTER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[still to come]

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

© RAILINGSOFSORROW, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#the originals masterlist #rebekah mikaelson × reader #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #hope mikaelson x reader #hayley marshall x reader #freya mikaelson x reader

[daisynik7]

Cure for a Hangover

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)

Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.

Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)

part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that. 

It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away. 

You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor. 

However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.

Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues. 

There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?

Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon

Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass

Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow

You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.

“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”

Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy. 

Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”

He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”

You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“Am I in heaven?”

You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”

“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile. 

“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling. 

His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does. 

Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated. 

You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”

Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”

Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”

“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm. 

You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”

“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.

You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”

He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”

You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack. 

You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them. 

It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep. 

~~~

Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment. 

He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day. 

“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities. 

His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure. 

Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?

Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go. 

Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night. 

Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t. 

He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”

She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee. 

His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”

She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”

He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.

He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.

He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”

She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”

“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?” 

“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs. 

He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?

~~~

You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!

Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!

Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”

You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”

He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further. 

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.

He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious. 

You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts. 

“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”

You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”

“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.

Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”

“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.

You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”

He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”

“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.

“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.

He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”

You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”

You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”

You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt. 

You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence. 

He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”

“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.

He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”

Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”

You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”

You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”

And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted. 

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe smut #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series

[raccoonfallsharder]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚2023 in review

i was thinking about doing a "year in review" but then i realized that's just. everything so far. so you could check out the ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗masterlist ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗ if that's what you want.

here's the highlight reel though!

fluff. smut-free, can usually be read platonically or romantically ✮ spice. explicit lines or references ✩ smut. abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ smut. detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

everyone's fave: ✩˚₊‧♡ Blackmail Material ♡‧₊˚✩ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 3/3 parts | word count: 30,591. a classic tale of "that fuckin raccoon found your sex toy." post-endgame friends-to-lovers smut with feelings.

the one that started it all: ⋆｡°✩ The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl ✩°｡⋆ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | | no use of y/n | f!reader | 5/5 visits | word count: 37,783. In Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) / Issue #3, Rocket asks a stranger on the ferry to "make sure nobody does anything weird" to him while he naps, and the stranger just, like, abandons him while he's sleeping?? who does that? when a stranger asks you to watch their stuff in a coffee shop, it's a holy obligation. x100 if it's a hot local space pilot trying to catch some Zs on the ferry. get in loser we're gonna fix it. first installment in the ⋆｡°✩ Domestic Scenes in Space Travel ✩°｡⋆ series. comics-based but you don't need any comics background knowledge to ride this ride.

my very first kinktober!: °˖✧♡ kinktober 2023 ♡✧˖° [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 12 complete days | word count: varies. just a lot of raccoon smut (usually with feelings). mind the ao3 tags. minimal editing (ie, typos abound; concepts are superficial; in kinktober we say "fuck everything - including plot").

a fluffy anthology of eight oneshot reminders: ✩࿐࿔take what you need [COMPLETE / ONGOING] ✮ fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: varies. the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good). this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

my (current) personal fave oneshot: adorations 𖥔 ݁˖⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | oneshot | word count: 4,518. you have a habit of complimenting rocket. he decides to give you plenty of reasons to keep doing so. aka rocket has a praise kink and no-one can convince me otherwise. mcu-based smut with feeeeelings. set sometime shortly after volume two. dirty talk, (light) biting, (light) degradation, use of slut as a term of endearment. fast-burn enemies-to-lovers & angst with a happy/hopeful ending. praise kink, obviously. part of ⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧₊ ☽ anthology ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

other notables! let me love your OCs ˗ˋˏ♡ˎˊ˗ ✩ over fifteen pieces of fanart for fellow gotg fans!

˚₊‧✶headcanons & minifics✶‧₊˚ [COMPLETE / ONGOING] ✮ fluff | no use of y/n | gn reader | complete | word count: varies. twenty-two headcanons, minifics, & drabbles! mostly fluffy, sometimes angsty.

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ* ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | rocket x f!oc | 23/27 chapters | wip | word count: pending. 23 of 27 chapters in this longform fic (to be completed this february!)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 2024 aspirations

january

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ Chapter XXIV & XXV ❤︎❤︎

florescence❀, chapter four year three: flowering. ❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. just buy the damn thing already & it's fuckin' laundry day.

february

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ Chapter XXVI & XXVII [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

florescence❀, chapter five year four: formation. ❤︎❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. get some frickin' sunshine. ✮

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part one: planting. ✩

march

florescence❀, chapter six year five: dispersal. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. have you taken your meds today? ✮

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part two: ripening. ❤︎

･:*𑁍✧˚₊ eavesdropper ₊˚✧𑁍*:･ oneshot. ❤︎❤︎

april

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part three: plucking. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

real *ੈ✩༄‧₊˚ oneshot. rating TBD

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part one & two. ❤︎❤︎

may

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part three & four. ❤︎❤︎

warm compress ☾.༊·˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ oneshot. ✮

june

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part five & six. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

untitled⋆｡°✩ Domestic Scenes (aka Sweatshirt Girl) ✩°｡⋆"finale" [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

july

᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.⋆｡✶˖ evasive maneuvers (practice expansion) parts one & two [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

★♫｡°𝄞☕︎✎▤ other duties as assigned ▤✎☕︎ 𝄞°｡♫★ begins? [LONGFORM / SLOWBURN].

august

sunshine ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹ (sunshine expansion) unknown parts. ❤︎❤︎

★♫｡°𝄞☕︎✎▤ other duties as assigned ▤✎☕︎ 𝄞°｡♫★ begins? [LONGFORM / SLOWBURN].

#2024 aspirations #rfh fanfic #fanfiction masterlist #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon x oc #rocket raccoon x you #rocket x you #rocket racoon x reader #rocket raccoon fanart #gotg oc #gotg rocket #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon x reader #rfh masterlist #blackmail material #take what you need #rfh kinktober #window across the galaxy #domestic scenes in space travel #sweatshirt girl #adventures of space pilot & sweatshirt girl #florescence #aspirations

[football-and-fanfics]

The Medic - #2 - Mason Mount

About the series: The Medic will be an anthology-like series about the reader working for the medical team of the club. Each chapter will feature a different setting/scenario and a different player.

Who: Mason Mount Prompt: Stitches Warnings: mentions of blood and injury (only mild though), mentions of medical procedures.

You stood at the touchline, eagerly awaiting the referee's approval for you to step out on the pitch and treat the stricken Chelsea player.

A few moments earlier, Mason had been on the receiving end of a studs-forward karate kick, which had caught him squarely on the upper arm. The torn sleeve of his shirt was unmistakable, even from a distance, and you were fairly sure you saw blood as well. Mason's desperate glance over to you only confirmed what you already knew: he was injured.

You finally got the all-clear from the referee and hurried over to where Mason sat on the grass. "There's blood and it hurts quite bad," Mason said even before you could have a proper look at his arm. He sounded on edge, maybe even slightly scared. "Let me have a look." You spoke calmly, hoping your calmness would wear off on him somewhat.

Mason didn't protest when you gently took his upper arm in your hands to have a better look. There indeed was blood on his arm, and through the torn sleeve of his shirt you could already see the source of it. The other player's studs had left clear marks on Mason's arm, and with that two inch-long lacerations which bled quite a bit. "Hmm, nasty," you commented, "those will require a few stitches, I'm afraid."

You felt Mason shudder involuntarily beside you as you mentioned the stitches. "Does it have to be now?" He asked. You couldn't help but notice how his voice was an octave higher than usual when he asked that question. His gaze quickly darted to the scoreboard overhead, which showed Chelsea's narrow 1-0 lead and another 25 minutes on the clock. You knew exactly what his unspoken question was. "We can do the stitches after the match," you agreed, "but we have to wrap this up for now. You're not allowed to continue with this bleeding out in the open."

Mason scrambled to his feet and followed you off the pitch. He stood patiently, just outside the touchline, as you quickly wrapped a bandage tightly around his upper arm. "Signal me if blood starts to seep through," you warned, "I don't think it will, but if so I need to change the bandage." Mason nodded he had understood, before sprinting out onto the pitch again.

---

You sat waiting for Mason in one of Stamford Bridge's treatment rooms. As you had agreed, he showed up immediately after Potter's post-match talk.

"Sit down." You motioned to a chair. You were expecting him, so everything you would be needing already lay ready and within grasp for use.

Mason did as you asked, but you couldn't help but notice the apprehension. You sat yourself down on your wheeled stool next to him. "Are you alright?" Mason flashed his characteristic smile, but it wasn't very convincing. He, too, seemed to realize that, because he quickly shook his head. "I'm actually a bit scared of getting stitches done."

This confession took you by surprise. Somehow he struck you as the last person to be afraid of something like this, but even though you hadn't been expecting to be told this, you immediately recollected yourself. "That's alright." You tried to ease him. "It won't take long and I'll make sure the area's numbed up and you won't feel anything of it." "Okay." A deep, shuddering breath was followed by a nod of his head.

You quickly set to work to indeed get things over with as soon as possible for Mason. All the while you worked, you felt him tremble slightly under your hands, and you knew he was doing his utter best not to lose his composure altogether.

"Good match." You started up the conversation to take Mason's attention off of what you were doing. "What?... Uh... yeah." Mason answered as though awaking from a deep trance. "Nice pass to Kai, too." You aimed at the assist he had given to Kai to secure their, ultimately, 2-0 victory. "Definitely, if I may say so myself." A smile broke across his face, and before you knew it he had fallen into a second-by-second analysis of everything leading up to that assist and the goal. You let him ramble on, occasionally asking questions or commenting on what he said. Anything to keep his mind otherwise occupied.

"All done," you announced after a few minutes. Mason fell silent mid-sentence, still speaking lively about the match. "Wow." He frowned in surprise at the bandage around his arm. "I didn't feel a thing." Now it was your turn to smile. "Told you."

He got to his feet, but he hesitated to leave. "Anything else I can help you with?" You asked. Mason stammered a few times before speaking his mind. "I just wanted to thank you. You didn't make fun of me or anything about being scared of getting the stitches done, and you handled me like a real a pro. So, thank you." You smiled at him, grateful for these words. "You're welcome."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @mrswinksy, @themoon-shines Mason tags: @juliabrghs, @footballffbarbiex, @youkantebeserious, @laurasstufff1, @mmountswb, @n0n-sense PL / Chelsea tags: @ella33

Add me to the tags list General masterlist | Mason masterlist

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #footballandfanficsmasonmount #footballandfanficsthemedic

[irisbleufic]

So, I spent the last 5 days of sitting around with this serious arm injury rereading the very first epic fic series I ever wrote. Although the posting dates on the below chapters are all 18 November 2013, the reality is that these were originally posted as individual stories on LiveJournal throughout the entirety of 2004 and into the spring of 2005. Those were my junior and senior years of college. This series was the last thing I relocated from LJ to AO3, and I was too exhausted to do a proper comb-through for typos and minor formatting issues.

Well, that state of things is no more. I cleaned up all of the editorial issues during this week’s rewatch-the-film-and-reread-my-fic binge. I also changed the names of a few of the chapters (they’re really stories strung together), although not drastically. The chapter called “Clippings��� used to be called “Business,” “Spiral” used to be called “You Must Listen to Me Now,” and “Closer to Fine” used to be called “The Middle of Things.”

I had an ask a few days ago along the lines of: What the hell is Toy Soldiers, anyway? On the surface, it’s a 1991 action movie/teen drama. It stars a young Sean Astin and Wil Wheaton as Billy Tepper and Joey Trotta, the central protagonists among the cast of younger characters. At the time I saw it in early 2004, I had only ever seen Sean Astin in The Lord of the Rings. And, incredibly, I didn’t even know who Wil Wheaton was.

That might be one reason I was able to take this film to heart so earnestly (i.e. I completely lacked knowledge of Wesley Crusher, Wheaton’s Star Trek character from around that time who it was traditional to mock, although I still don’t get why). However, the primary reason this film wrecked the back end of my 2004 spring break was that I had watched The Celluloid Closet for the first time only days before watching Toy Soldiers.

I challenge any queer person to watch this documentary (about the Hays Code and the horrible fate met by queer-coded and queer characters in cinema) and this under-appreciated action film back to back and come out of it without feeling devastated and furious about what happens to Billy and Joey. Especially to Joey. And now, in an era of rampant school shootings and hostage situations, Toy Soldiers hits with even more gravity than it did in the 1990s and early 2000s.

These boys are where it started for me. Every every horrific canon media ending that has ever made me furious, every hundreds-of-thousands-of-words long fix-it series I’ve written in the past 19 years, can be traced back to this moment. This string of stories was what I wrote before I ever wrote the likes of Crown of Thorns (Good Omens), Anthology (Pacific Rim), and Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed (Gotham). Hell, one of my instrumental original characters in CoT appeared for the first time at the end of Book of Hours before I ever thought to use her in a Good Omens context.

This story has meant the world to me even though the fandom around it at the time of writing, and even now, was never more than about 20 people. Most of those people are still with me, the dearest friends I could ever hope to have 💙

*

Chapter Index for The Series / Book of Hours by irisbleufic

1. Stereotypical (2013-11-18)

2. Persuasion (2013-11-18)

3. Taste Testing (2013-11-18)

4. Leaving a Mark (2013-11-18)

5. Trick or Treat (2013-11-18)

6. Omerta (2013-11-18)

7. Translation (2013-11-18)

8. Sketches (2013-11-18)

9. Falling (2013-11-18)

10. Caught (2013-11-18)

11. What It Takes (2013-11-18)

12. Noteworthy (2013-11-18)

13. These Shadows Have Offended (2013-11-18)

14. Love Never Did Run Smooth (2013-11-18)

15. Within Reason (2013-11-18)

16. Composure (2013-11-18)

17. Clippings (2013-11-18)

18. Without End (2013-11-18)

19. Prologue: Every Hour (2013-11-18)

20. Book of Hours: Part 1 (2013-11-18)

21. Book of Hours: Part 2 (2013-11-18)

22. Flashback: Spiral (2013-11-18)

23. Flashback: Silver (2013-11-18)

24. The Orchids (2013-11-18)

25. Closer to Fine (2013-11-18)

#toy soldiers #fanfiction #wil wheaton #sean astin #good omens #pacific rim #gotham #fandom history #meta #billy tepper x joey trotta

[deadlypastelcutieart]

Awwww, now that's a sweet ending doesn't it? :)

Yes! That's right! This year marks a huge milestone for Cartoon Network's history, because this year marks the 30th anniversary of the first original Cartoon Network character, Moxy! From the 1995 anthology series "The Moxy Show".

Okay actually to be honest the show he's from is 28 years old. And I know what your thinking.. Wait, if his show is 28 years old, why are you saying Moxy is turning 30 this year?

I have explained this already many times but the truth is Moxy actually came out way before The Moxy Show came out! Before that in 1995 formerly known as "The Moxy Pirate Show", his actual debut was on November 26 1993, with a live Cartoon Network televised event called "The Great International Toon-in", which not only aired on Cartoon Network but also on Turner's other channels such as TNT and TBS in different countries. And that's where Moxy first appeared onto the channel! He was the host of the event as he was seen in-between the marathon of cartoons, interacting with children on a tv screen. And of course was known as the first cartoon character to be animated live on tv! (Actully it wasn't really live but just pre-recorded.)

And looking back to when I first discovered this character when I saw that OK KO episode, it made me question if he was their mascot to represent the channel and I loved looking through any info I can ind about this interesting 3D cartoon dog character.

It is sad though for CN's first original character he became so unpopular and ended up being lost media to the public. But at least there are some found stuff from his show. But honestly I really thinkg we should continue to find more info! I would love to see more info about Moxy and what's his interests are? But fir now at least he's been getting a bit of attention and finally got a cameo in another CN show!

So, in honor of Moxy's 30th Aniversary, I give you all this special comic I made featuring Moxy and of course all of the Cartoon Network characters over the years! Yeah I know, I forgot to add some more but I couldn't fit much and I just really wanted to get this comic done! So if your going to complain that I forgot to add a character in this comic, I do apologize! But DAM! This was my first time drawing all these CN characters and I honestly feel proud of this! And I wanted to make sure I draw them in their right designs! But this was worth it!

So Moxy, happy 30th Anniversary to you! And happy 28th Anniversary to The Moxy Show! I know Cartoon Network dosen't care about him, but hey! I think he deserves a huge celebration! Hope there will be more info of him found! :)

#my art #cartoon network #the moxy show #comic

[fiercynn]

As it usually happens on here, we become fans of things by osmosis if we didn't seek it out for ourselves. So I've been following you for a bit and I have finally crossed the threshold from "this person I follow really loves this media and I love seeing their love for it on my dash, so glad they're having fun" over to "I wanna have fun, too." And that's all thanx to @thatgothsamurai's photobooth art.

So, I hope you can guide me on where I should start with patpran and inkpa, and the rest. Like, are they on separate shows that crossover? A spinoff? Like, what's going on, where do I start, how do I watch. Like you, I'm in the US. Any suggestions are appreciated.

AAAAAAAH THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY and thank u @thatgothsamurai for the amazing fanart as always (the photobooth fanart in question, a classic in the fandom)

okay so both patpran and inkpa are canon pairings from the thai bl bad buddy and its related special episodes! all are produced by the thai production company gmmtv.

the show and all related episodes are available to watch on youtube with english subtitles - i'll link to relevant playlists.

THE MAIN SHOW: BAD BUDDY THE SERIES

directed by "aof" noppharnach chaiyahwimhon (who is gay himself), and starring "nanon" korapat kirdpan as pran, and "ohm" pawat chittsawangdee as pat. the original show is twelve episodes, which aired from october 2021 to january 2022. i watched it for the first time in february 2022 and have not known peace every since

the premise is that pat and pran, who have lived next door to each other since birth, have been rivals all their lives because their families hate each other. after pran's sent off to boarding school for three years, they are unexpectedly reunited at university - where they find that their friend groups are also enemies, so they have to keep up the pretense of hating each other. but of course they fall in love instead!

the main story is about patpran, but inkpa is a canon side pairing featuring "love" pattranite limpatiyakorn as pa, pat's younger sister, and "milk" pansa vosbein as ink, a classmate of pat and pran's. though they get less screentime, i still think they have a delightful romantic arc themselves!

SPECIAL EPISODES

zero photography: an inkpa special episode that is set after the main show. directed by "tee" bundit sintanaparadee, whom i don't know much about, and aired in august 2022

our skyy x bad buddy x a tale of thousand stars: so our skyy 2 was an anthology of special episodes released between april and june 2023 for a bunch of different gmmtv bls. each show was supposed to have two special eps for their characters, but since two shows directed by p'aof were getting special eps (the other one being a tale of thousand stars, also a delightful show), he decided to use four episodes as a crossover of the two shows. in the bad buddy timeline, these eps take place during a timeskip that happens in the original show between episodes 11 and 12, and features patpran but has a few great inkpa appearances too. you don't really need to have seen atots to understand the eps, i don't think? but they probably are more enjoyable if you have haha

EXTRAS

"just friend" music video: nanon sings two songs on the bad buddy soundtrack, and ohm sings one for our skyy 2, all of which have music videos, but i'm linking to this song of nanon's particularly because the music video its own story unrelated to the show at all! it's very cute and is basically an au where they are employees at the same hotel (and in love of course)

23.5 degrees the series: this is not technically related to bad buddy, but milk and love are going to be starring in gmmtv's first full-length gl, 23.5 degrees, which will be directed by "fon" kanittha kwunyoo (who i believe is a lesbian)! thai gls are just starting to get attention and backing by the major tv studios, and milklove's known chemistry from playing inkpa, as well as an exciting supporting cast and director, are making everyone super excited for this

there are also TONS of behind-the-scenes and making-of extras if you get into the show but i figured this was enough to start with :D

let me know if you have questions about any of this! i'm not sure how familiar you are with thai media or fandoms, so definitely happy to share/explain more as would be helpful! <3

#bad buddy #bad buddy explainer #patpran #inkpa #zero photography #our skyy x bad buddy x a tale of thousand stars #our skyy 2 #our skyy x bad buddy #just friend mv #23.5 degrees #thank you for the ask this made me so happyyyyyyy #ask me things #id in alt text #original #asking me answering you

[bobfloydsbabe]

burst into flames for you | jake "hangman" seresin x oc

Rating: T+

Prompt: N/A

Requested: N/A

Summary: After the mission, Jas confesses why she's been ignoring Jake. Part of the Turning Tables anthology series.

Warnings: Angst, brief mention of amputation (non-graphic), incorrect medical info, incorrect Navy info, kissing.

Word count: ~2.2k

A/N: This is probably one of the Jas and Jake fics I'm most proud of. There is so much Jas backstory. Thank you, as always, to @joaquinwhorres for letting me namedrop your OCs, Caro and Dalia, and for helping me figure out why the original ending was off. Title is from I'm With You by Vance Joy. Enjoy, friends!

Likes are nice, but comments and reblogs are golden.

Meet me at the Hard Deck. Please.

Jake knew it was serious because Jas never said please. Even when she was under him and on the edge of coming undone, she wouldn’t say please. She wouldn’t beg for it. That one word sent Jake out the door of his barrack room and off to the bar.

It was mid-morning on a Saturday, and Penny had opened early. He pushed the front door with the chipped paint open and walked inside, scanning the room. He didn’t spot Jas anywhere, only Penny and a few patrons nursing coffee rather than beer.

He stalked towards the bar, locking eyes with Penny, confusion on his face. Jas had texted him to meet her there, but now she was gone?

“She’s down by the water,” Penny told him when he was close enough to hear her. He mumbled a quick thank you and headed for the door leading out to the deck. 

There, in the distance, Jas sat on the sand facing the ocean. It was cloudier than usual, but the sun still bounced off her hair, making it look shinier. He rested his hands on the deck railing for a minute, gathering up the courage to make the short trek to her.

Jake squared his shoulders, walked down the steps, and trudged through the sand. He stopped a few feet behind her and took a deep breath. 

Please.

The word still lingered in his mind. Jas rarely texted him. In fact, she had spent weeks refusing to give him her number, but finally relented a few days before the mission. She’d made him promise to let her know he was alive.

“I’d say quit staring at my ass, but you can’t see it, so just quit staring.”

“You have a great ass,” he said, closing the last bit of distance between them. When he sat, he could see the grin Jas was biting back.

“So you’ve told me,” she agreed.

“I’d never lie to you, Doc.”

At that, her jaw clenched. She didn’t like it when he called her Doc. At least, that’s what she’d told him frequently, though it was usually right before they slept together.

“I know.”

For a while, they just sat there staring at the sea. They listened to the waves meeting the shore and seagulls screeching above them. Jake looked at Jas. Her auburn hair looked red in this light, and her blue eyes matched that of the endless sea while he was on the carrier. She had freckles on her nose that’d become more noticeable since he’d met her. Her lips were pink and plush. Kissable.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” she said, filling the silence. 

He’d texted her as soon as they got back on dry land, hoping for a response, but none came. He’d gone to the Hard Deck that night to celebrate their success with the dagger squad, but Jas didn’t show. When he asked Caro if she knew where Jas was, she’d informed him she wasn’t coming. 

Jas had gone radio silent, and Caro, Bob, and Fanboy kept their mouths shut on the matter. He’d even tried to intimidate Bob into telling him why she wasn’t there, but the bespectacled aviator had stood his ground, and Jake respected that even if he hated him a little for it. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, mostly joking.

Jas turned her head to him. “Do you know why I’m stationed here?”

He shook his head, brows furrowed. Jas looked back at the ocean.

Jake watched her shift uncomfortably in the sand, folding and unfolding her hands where they rested on her shins. He had never seen Jas like this before.

“It was a demotion.” Before Jake could ask what she meant, she continued. “I used to serve on the USS Nimitz. After an attack on our aviators, one of them came back with a severely injured leg. My commanding officer decided we should amputate. I insisted I could save it, but he told me it was futile and gave me a direct order to amputate.”

“But you didn’t?”

Jas shook her head, a watery chuckle escaping her throat. It made Jake move closer, and when she didn’t flinch away, he bumped his shoulder with hers, silently encouraging her to go on.

“I told the nurses, the anesthesiologist, and everyone else that we had to go ahead to save his leg.”

Jake wanted to wrap his arms around Jas and comfort her as the tears ran down her cheeks. There was something deeply vulnerable about this moment. It was like being thrown into the deep end of Jas’ conscience and left to his own devices.

Sink or swim, Seresin.

Jas took a deep breath and continued her story. “It took three hours, but I saved his leg with no nerve damage, sudden bleeds, or anything like that. He didn’t lose his leg, and he didn’t have to be discharged on medical grounds. He needed a lot of physical therapy, but he’d be able to fly again.”

“There are consequences of disobeying a direct order,” Jake said. He didn’t know what else to say. 

Jas gave off a humorless laugh and wiped at the tears still running down her face in steady streams. “My file has a long list of citations for insubordination, but this was the final nail in the coffin. I should be grateful they didn’t kick me out.”

“You don’t like being told what to do,” Jake observed.

At that, Jas chuckled again and finally turned her red-rimmed blue eyes to him. “No,” she agreed. “The Surgeon General, Admiral Warren, personally reviewed my file and sent me here as punishment. I’m working the most boring, deadbeat office in the entire Navy by prescribing more Advil and cough medicine to grown men than I can count. I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”

Jake hummed while Jas leaned her chin on her knees, studying the waves again. The clouds were slowly disappearing, making space for a bright day in California, a sharp contrast to Jas’ gloomy mood.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Jas let a deep breath go. The silence between them stretched for longer than he was comfortable with, but he knew that pushing the woman next to him wouldn’t do either of them any good. So he stayed silent.

“I lost something I cared about when I was demoted,” she told him and spun in the sand so she was facing him. Jake mirrored her action, folding his legs down in front of him.

“When all of you left for that mission, I held Caro all night as she cried. She was terrified of losing Mickey, of giving her daughter a taste of him only to have him possibly ripped away.”

Jake nodded. He remembered Fanboy pacing up and down the corridor outside their bunks after Maverick chose him and Payback to fly. In a poor attempt at reconciliation, Jake had tried to assure him he would be fine, only to get his feelings for Jas thrown back in his face. He’d never seen Fanboy that upset, not even when he had punched Jake for talking shit.

Jas looked down at the sand where her toes had slipped under his crossed legs. He could feel her wiggle them through the material of his jeans. “When you left for that mission,” she whispered and looked to meet his gaze. “I thought I was going to lose something I cared about.”

Jake’s breath hitched at the admission. He knew where he stood and had known it for a while, but was afraid to push Jas into something she wasn’t ready for. Something she may not even want.

But right now, sitting in front of him, she admitted that she cared about him. He fought every impulse in his body to surge forward and kiss her senseless. He looked at Jas, really looked at her, and saw the fragility that had crept into her demeanor. He kept quiet, but offered a small smile of encouragement.

“I didn’t know I cared. I didn’t know why I couldn’t breathe when you were gone, why I clung to my phone, waiting for a sign that you were alive and coming back. I didn’t know why I cried almost uncontrollably after Caro fell asleep, why I took Dalia for ice cream seven times, or why Martha was on my back about keeping up with charts.”

Jas took a shaky breath and let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. “Then you texted you were alive and coming back, and it hit me. I’d been so distracted because I cared about losing you. This,” she said and gestured between them, “is more than just sex.”

Jake hesitated. He was happy that Jas felt the same way, but there was a nagging question he couldn’t let go. “You didn’t show at our welcome home thing.”

Jas hung her head again, wiping tears off her cheeks. “If it helps, Caro yelled at me for that. Said you seemed disappointed, and that she sent Dalia to cheer you up.”

At that, Jake smiled. “She’s a good kid.”

He expected Jas to look back up at him, but she didn’t. She wiped more tears off her face, and Jake’s chest tightened at the sight. The sinking disappointment he’d felt when Caro told him she wasn’t coming and the fiery frustration he felt being given the silent treatment evaporated as he watched her cry for him.

He reached out a hand, placing it under her chin, and applied light pressure to get her to look up. Her blue eyes met his, and he lost his breath again. Jas was the first girl in a long time who had challenged him, who had made the chase almost cruel and the possibility of her being his the sweetest reward.

He dropped his hand, not wanting to force his touch on Jas, who was in such a fragile state he was afraid to break her.

“So why ignore me?”

She kept her eyes trained on him this time, as if forcing herself to face the hurt she’d caused. “Because this,” she said, gesturing between them again, “scares the shit out of me.”

Jake softened, the tension leaving his shoulders for the first time. He reached his hand out again, pausing mid-air to see if Jas would flinch, but when she didn’t, he cupped her cheeks. He ran a thumb across the skin, catching a stray tear as it fell.

“It’s not just sex to me either,” he admitted, and it didn’t make his lungs constrict. “I’m scared, too.”

He was. He was scared shitless to want Jas as desperately as he did. Jake had always been a one and done guy. Since high school, his mom had given him disapproving looks when he showed a girl to the door in the morning, never to be seen in the house again. Jake had dated casually most of his life, but everything about Jas made his stomach flip, and when she didn’t talk to him, he felt hollow.

“I don’t know how to be in a relationship,” Jas whispered, reaching up and grabbing Jake’s wrist. She pulled the hand off her cheek and kissed his palm, making Jake’s pulse race. “But I want to try. With you.”

When her gaze returned to his, he grinned like a child on Christmas morning. “We’ll figure it out together,” he whispered back and hoped it sounded like a promise.

He leaned forward and finally captured Jas’ lips in a kiss, pouring everything he still had left to say into it. They still had so much to talk about, so much to figure out, but he meant it when it said they’d do it together.

Jake tried to pull away, but Jas chased his lips and he smiled into it. One of his hands slid around her neck and into her hair, and he scraped his blunt nails over her scalp, coaxing a moan from her lips.

He pulled away and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.

“You gonna take me home, Seresin?”

He welcomed the grin that spread across his face, and he rose to his feet, holding his hand out for Jas to take.

“Every damn day, Doc,” he replied as she landed on her feet in front of him. She snuck her arms around his neck and leaned in for another soft kiss, not caring that a group of kids were passing by them as their lips met.

They broke apart and made their way up the beach towards the parking lot. Jake’s arm was slung over Jas’ shoulder, and she leaned into him. It was like she was made for him.

A ping sounded, and Jas pulled her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, groaning at the text that had rolled in.

“What?” Jake asked, leading her towards his car.

“Caro asked if I wanted to have drinks tonight.”

Jake frowned. “And that’s bad?”

Jas opened the passenger side door, resting an arm on the roof and looked at Jake. “No, but she’s gonna be really smug about us being a thing now.”

“A thing, you say?”

Jas groaned. “You’re infuriating.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Jake chuckled and got into the car. Once they were on the road, he grabbed Jas’ hand and kissed her knuckles.

❋❋❋

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns, @raith-way

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @seymour-cant-read

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x oc #top gun maverick #oc: jasmine lane #otp: jasman #fic: turning tables #drabble: jas #helenawrites #mywriting #writtenbyme #madebyme #i'm so proud of this fam