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#just god i love this pairing no one is doing it like them!!!!!
coco-loco-nut · 21 hours
Text
Iconic
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life
masterlist
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“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.
“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.
“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.
“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.
“How so?”
“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.
“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.
“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.
“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.
“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.
“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.
“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.
“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.
“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.
“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.
“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.
“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.
“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.
“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.
“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.
“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.
“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.
“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.
“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.
“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.
“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.
“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.
“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.
“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.
“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.
“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.
Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.
“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.
“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.
“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.
“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.
“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.
“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.
“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.
“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.
“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.
“Hey,” he groans at the jab.
“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.
“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.
“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”
“Who said I’d marry you at all?”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.
“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.
“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.
“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.
“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I love you too.”
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ssparksflyy · 3 days
Note
hello! can i request jason grace or leo valdez x child of hypnos reader ? (gn) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.
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jason grace dating hcs! ٩(ˊ〇ˋ*) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
pairing: jason grace x child of hypnos!reader warning(s): none!! js fluff :) a/n: i love children of hypnos, u stay sleepy ! also me writing this running off five hours of sleep ( the most ive gotten this week ) yikes..
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mr gets up willingly at six am nd his sleepy lover ♡
there are times where u literally have to beg jason to go back to bed cause omfg what r u doing. its six am. no u r not going to go run. no the early bird doesnt get the worm. go. back. to. sleep.
hey nd most times it works cause the thought of holding u close and a sweet sweet dream is enough to get him back in bed
but other times noooo he goes running 🙄
what is bro running from? sleep???
omg but then literally knocks tf out by like nine
one of the times when you had a sleepover planned together
you were running a little late cause ur cabin's ac wasnt working nd everybody was tweaking out
so you had to stay behind and help fix it
by the time you finished and ran over to cabin one , jason was already passed out nd lightly snoring 😭
mind you it was like 9:15 pm
its ok tho u were tired asf too , who knew fixing the ac could be so hard ??
he apologized sm in the morning tho
but u were like its okay el oh el
he cant help it bro he needs his sleep almost as much as he needs you
its better that he falls asleep early than stay up super late tho
cause like when he was helping plan out the new cabins, it was impossible to convince him to go to sleep
he wouldnt stop working nd u were like 😠 fool 😠 go to sleep 😠
nd he was like no thank youuuuu ♡
so you used your powers on him cause he hadNT SLEPT IN DAYS
u were both mad at each other in the morning and things were painfully tense
but you sat down nd talked it out like mature ppl ♡
he srsly hates fighting, he already does it with monsters nd shit so much, he doesnt want to do it w you :(
he apologized for being ignorant and promised he would be better about taking care of himself instead of burying himself in work
you apologized for using your powers on him without saying anything first, and promised you wouldn't do it again ( unless its necessary ) :))
to this day, youve still kept your promises ♡
jason is SUCH a sucker for when you touch his hair
the most relaxing thing everrrrr
i will die on this hill ppl dont play w me
his hair would be soft asf bro
best believe he uses a good conditioner !!
he lets u play w his hair nd do wtv u want with it cause like ~relaxing~
so best believe you have a 0.5 of him with all his hair tied up and looking like a palm tree
0.5s of jason would literally be flawless asf but scary
cause ur like omg by bf is so cute- god DAMN somebody get this man contacts
he looks amazing but THEM EYES
terrifying. staring into ur soul.
theyre cute tho ♡♡
you OBVI have matching pjs
i cannot decide if jason would go to sleep w just pj pants nd no shirt or if would have light blue and white striped pants, a button up shirt, slippers, a cap with a little fuzzy ball at the end, nd a candlestick
jason grace is a SPECTRUM OKAY
but he buys u so many plushies ugh
you own so many jellycats im so jealous
he helps u name them nd their literally ur children like
u have matching build-a-bears !!!
the voice memos are messages u made for each other :(
his to u is a quick ramble about how much he loves u but gets cut off cause he only had 20 seconds ♡♡
nd u get matching outfits for them!!
urs is named 'sleepy' and his is named 'sparky' ♡
i feel like jason gets some real bad nightmares
like yea every demigod does but he gets his more frequently nd their more graphic bcs of what he's seen and gone through :(
most of the time they arent even messages from his dad, theyre just really bad flashbacks of horrible times in his life
but ever since you started spending ur nights together, theyve toned down so much
now he even gets dreams abt your future together sometimes :((
he really wants to tell you about those dreams cause they feel so real but hes scared that youll think its weird or get uncomfortable
little does he know you get those exact same dreams ♡
and on the same nights as he does...
CAUSE UR MEETING IN UR DREAMSSSSSSS
nd thats how ur dad shows his love to you !
zeus doesnt gaf. wtv we dont like him anyway
i mean sometimes hes like erm gtfo my cabin 🤨
but doesn't actually do anything
u literally dont care for anybody's thoughts tho cause you bagged a baddie as sleepy as you ♡
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an two: ik i didnt talk abt sleepovers together but like ive got a jason fic called sleepover (thats also gn!) if u wanted to read that :DD but i hoped u enjoyed and have a good day/night!! GO STREAM THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT.
peace from manhattan,
percy jackson ♡
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discotitsposts · 3 days
Text
Just Ecstasy
18+ bdsm, bondage, kinks, etc so mdni
she her pronouns used
me: i’m not gonna write smut for a while probably
also me: makes this fic
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You loved your boyfriend. Really loved him. You would do anything. Well, almost anything.
The idea had seemed fun at first. A kinky little game only you two could know about.
When Spencer had held your wrists together waiting for your permission, you took a breath and said “Go ahead.”
However, the second he clicked the metal cuffs around your wrists you freaked out and tried to pull them off. You hated the feeling. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe with Spencer. That was one of the strongest feelings you felt with him.
In one quick motion he had unlocked the cuffs and held you saying over and over again, “It’s alright, they’re off, you’re ok.”
You two hadn’t spoken of this again.
Until you thought about it. You had wanted that so badly you had just been nervous. Of what exactly? You didn’t know. You wanted to try again.
A week later when Spencer gets home, you’re waiting in your sexiest lingerie smiling, holding up a pair of handcuffs that may work better for you. They had a soft padding on the inside. Not as harsh as just metal. You had picked them up at a sex shop earlier that day just for the occasion.
Spencer walks over to you and kisses you. “What’s all this?” He asks.
“You should know smarty pants.” You tease handing him the cuffs.
“I thought you were nervous. I just don’t want to upset you.”
“No no, we should have started with these. The metal ones just freaked me out.”
“Are you sure? Like are you surely sure?”
“I’m so sure, that I hid the key.” You laugh.
“YOU WHAT?!” Spencer yells.
“I didn’t want to chicken out again!” You shrug.
“Tell me where it is now.”
“Sorry you’re going to have to force it out of me mister agent.” You smirk.
“That’s Doctor agent to you missy.”
You turn around and shake your ass a little, “Come get me and force a confession out of me mister doctor sir.”
That’s just what he did.
Before he handcuffed your hands behind your back, he made sure you were alright. “Ready?” He asked.
“Yes.” You nod confidently.
He yet again put the cuffs on you. The click of the cuffs made a shiver run down your spine in anticipation.
He breaks character to ask, “Feel okay?”
“Yes. I’m alright.” You weren’t lying. It felt much better this time. You felt no anxiety. Just ecstasy. You practically moan at his hands roaming your body. Then his next move shocks you. Quickly getting back into character, he bends you over the table and spanks you.
“Wanna tell me where that key is young lady?” He threatens dominantly.
“Nope. My lips are sealed.”
“Hmm she’s stubborn.” He grabs your favorite vibrator and a paddle. “We’ll soon fix that.”
He presses the button on the vibrator. Nothing. “How the hell do you turn this on.” He asks.
You giggle. “Shut up.” He sneers. You stop laughing.
“Here let me.” You click and hold the button with your arms behind you. You hear the BZZZZZ immediately after.
“Thanks. Ok now, tell me where you hid it. Or I’ll be forced to use harsher methods.” He rubs the vibrator along your most sensitive spot. It feels amazing.
Moaning, you say, “Never.”
“Oh really?” He turns off the vibrator. You hear the buzzing stop and try to look behind you but you can’t see anything.
Spencer’s hands go up your waist and he starts tickling you. Your weakness. You scream-laugh.
“OH MY GOD AHAHAHAH!! SPENCER NO!”
“Tell me.” He says firmly.
“OK FINE ITS IN THE MEDICINE CABINET!!HAHAHAHAHA BEHIND YOUR EYE DROPS!!”
“Thank you.” He picks you up brings you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and leaves you there with the vibrator pressed against you.
He comes back holding the key. You think he’s going to uncuff you so you try to lift your hands.
He walks closer to you until his crotch is near your face. He runs his hand along your hair and says,“Oh I’m not done with you yet sweetheart. We’re just getting started!”
writing this had me 😫💗
this is probably the most sexy time i’ve ever written so hopefully it’s alright for like the first one
literally wrote this in like 20 minutes. how?!
hope anyone who reads this enjoys!! I love feedback!! 💗💗
tags/
@whoisspence
@lemonadeinfuser
@fictionalobssed
@exoticisles
@in-another-april
(if anyone else would like to be tagged in future works don’t hesitate to lmk!)
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coffeeshopguest · 2 days
Note
please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!
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I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭
The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night
Word Count: 1569
Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott
Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex
It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 
What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 
"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 
Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 
"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 
Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 
"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 
Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 
Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 
Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 
"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 
Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"
 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."
"You...you're in?" 
Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 
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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 
"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 
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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 
So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 
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Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.
"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 
And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 
"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 
You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 
You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 
"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 
A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 
"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 
He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 
Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 
"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 
To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 
In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 
When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 
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hwaslayer · 3 days
Text
love you in slow motion (psh) | one.
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♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡
—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.
—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut
—word count: 5.7k
—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, hints of a toxic relationship & ex-bf, mentions of a broken family and death, just a good ol' intro to hwa and oc + their dynamic + their family dynamics, buried feelings and overthinking!!
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"Seonghwa?" Your cousin, Soyeon, calls for him on the other line. Soyeon rarely ever calls Seonghwa, but when she does, it's usually for good reason.
"Soyeon, what's up?" Seonghwa says, hand on his hip as he tries to regulate his breathing after a late night boxing session with Wooyoung and Hongjoong.
"Y/N said she would be home earlier, but she hasn't been. Yaya's worried, I'm worried. It's pouring outside." She says frantically. He sighs, stomach slightly dropping at the statement.
"Okay, where did she go last? I haven't heard from her since earlier this morning." Soyeon lets out a hefty sigh.
"Of course she wouldn't tell you. She was with Mingi." She says sarcastically, knowing Seonghwa would be upset with you for giving in, yet once again. Seonghwa had no issues giving you the 'I told you so' every single time you've been with your shitty ex-boyfriend. He always makes you cry, and it never fails. He doesn't understand why the fuck you keep running back to him. So to Seonghwa, it's not surprising that you kept this from him. Doesn't stop him from pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding, though.
"Alright, I'll find her. Don't worry."
"Thank you. Seriously. When you see her, you better tell her to stop seeing that fucking asshole. All he does is treat her like shit."
"Yeah, I know. Are you and Junseo home now?"
"Yeah, we are. We were gonna go to Yaya's but she told me to call you first before anything."
"Good, stay put. I'll take care of it and text you. She won't be far."
"God, such a headache. Thank you, Seonghwa."
"Course." He sighs as he ends the call, tossing his phone onto his duffle bag before un-doing the wrap around his hands. 
"Done already?" Wooyoung asks, making Hongjoong shift his attention to the platinum blonde while they stand near the bag.
"I gotta go find Y/N."
"What? What happened?"
"Who knows, she was with Mingi."
"Dude is always bad news." Hongjoong chimes in, watching as Seonghwa throws his hoodie on and slings the duffle bag strap over his shoulder.
"Tell me about it." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Text us when you're all good. Hope she's okay."
"She's fine. Just needa get her out of this rain." He says, giving them one last wave as he walks out of the studio and down the steps. Soyeon is right; the rain has picked up over the last few hours, creating huge puddles near the sidewalks and curbs due to the intensity. The stream of water makes a loud noise as it falls into the drain nearby, the loud pour of the rainfall echoing throughout the empty street. Seonghwa drags the hood over his head, doing a slight jog to his parked car on the side of the studio. Luckily for him, he knows where Song Mingi lives. Luckily for him, this town isn't that big and you couldn't have gotten far.
Luckily for him, he's right.
He finds you walking about two blocks away from Mingi's place, just getting ready to turn the corner to lord knows where. He slowly drives alongside of you, rolling down his passenger window to peak over at you. He's glad he found you when he did because you have a flimsy hoodie and leggings on, the hood completely drenched and barely doing anything to protect you from this rain.
"What are you doing, Seonghwa?" You ask, eyes glued forward as you continue to walk.
"What does it look like? Get in, you're gonna get sick." You squint your eyes at him as you continue to walk. "Y/N."
"How did you even know where to find me?"
"It's not hard to figure out when you're with Mingi." He quickly glances at the street ahead, making sure there are no oncoming cars or passengers in the way. "Plus, Soyeon called. Her and Yaya are worried because you told them you'd be home earlier."
"Of course." You mumble.
"Y/N, get inside and stop being stubborn."
"Seonghwa—" He starts to obnoxiously honk his horn on the quiet street, making your eyes widen at him. You continuously tell him to stop and to quit being so loud, however, his efforts don't stop. "Park Seonghwa, what the fuck! Fine!" You groan loudly, quickly opening the door when he stops the car. You plop yourself onto the seat, glaring at him. "Happy?!"
"Not really, but at least you're in the car." He locks the doors and turns up the heat, driving off to his 1 bedroom apartment. "You can stay at mine for tonight so you don't stress out Yaya." He keeps his eyes on the road, thoughts shifting to your grandma and how worried she might be right now.
"She won't even be that—"
"She sure as hell will, Y/N. Besides, who the hell wants to argue with you this late at night? It's almost 1am. Knowing your ass and how you never listen, even though you should." He sighs. "I'll take you home tomorrow morning before I head to work."
"Whatever." You cross your arms, still feeling cold and uncomfortable after being in the rain.
"Why were you walking in the rain?" He asks, most definitely knowing the answer already. Your nights with Mingi always end on some toxic shit, all this yelling and back and forth— arguing over empty promises and issues from the past.
And for what? The dude is never gonna change. Seonghwa isn't sure what the hell you're holding out hope for. 
"I'll tell you if you spare me the 'I told you so.'" He shakes his head.
"Can't promise."
"Then you don't get shit from me." 
"Why do you let him do this to you?"
"Wow, that's actually worse than an 'I told you so.'"
"I'm being serious." He glances at you with a very mixed expression, mainly serious and worrisome tones.
"I don't know, okay. I wish I could tell you." It's silent for a minute, the only sounds filling the car are the rain pounding against the windshield and the heat on high. 
The thing about Seonghwa being your bestfriend of 16 years is the fact that you can always rely on him to be there no matter what. He's always so, so good to you; always so caring, so supportive and so protective. You've never had to ask Seonghwa for anything because he always gives, and is always ready to give. Just like tonight, when he shouldn't be here but he is. 
He had been yours, just as you had been his since the beginning.
Sometimes, it's easy to believe you don't deserve someone like Seonghwa by your side.
You met this adorably shy, sweet kid when he was introduced to your class as a new transfer in the 3rd grade, most kids in your class politely saying hello but going about their own business afterwards. You, though, had stuck around to show Seonghwa his new school and to eat with him. Since then, your relationship had flourished. His dad had become bestfriends with your own dad, the two of you always going on family trips together, hanging out at each other's homes, going to the same schools onward— Seonghwa was always there, you were always there. He had seen you through your very best, seen you through your very worst. Was there during your highs, was there during your lows. Knows exactly how to push you right to the very edge, but also knows how to make up for his dumb mistakes. Knows exactly how to handle you, attitude, temper and all, knows exactly what makes you happy, what makes you sad.
He knows you like the back of his hand.
Probably better than you know yourself.
Seonghwa became the golden child though, you know? He had loving parents who supported him through everything. He was a superb student [a teacher's pet, if you may], an athlete, a prodigy; always winning numerous awards and medals throughout his academic and athletic career. He had countless talents and a positive energy that people admired him for, though shy and timid in the beginning. He got along well with people and was the ultimate charmer. Attractive, had his way with the ladies— albeit, he can be an idiot when he thinks with his dick from time to time and not his brain. But nonetheless, Seonghwa is Seonghwa. He would never intentionally hurt a soul, would never intentionally give people what they didn't deserve. To be clear though, Seonghwa has his fair share of mistakes and fuck-ups, but in the end, he would always apologize when in the wrong and make up for his actions. While you, on the other hand, were his polar opposite and struggled to find your place in this crazy, crazy world.
You had never met your biological mother, and your dad had spent majority of your earlier years working graveyard to keep food on the table, to keep sending you to a good school. You spent most of your childhood growing up at Yaya's house, where your dad's sister and her family lived for awhile. That's how your older cousin Soyeon became the sister you've never had, somebody else you could rely on, fight with and experience the ups and downs with. Things were good, and they were good for awhile until you lost your dad to a rare and sudden illness.
Then, things went downhill for you.
You continued to stay at Yaya's, only having her, Soyeon and her family, Seonghwa and his family by your side. You began to push people away, you got into trouble and made dumb mistakes that hurt your loved ones more times than you'd like to admit. You had your moments where you acted solely on feelings instead of being rational. You had no filter, not being afraid of telling people if they were wrong even if it meant hurting their feelings to no end. You no longer got along well with most people, finding it hard to vibe well with majority of the crowd. No longer caring about what was in the know, what was trending; was incredibly selective about who you gave your time and effort to in fear of losing more loved ones dear to your heart.
Without Seonghwa at your side, you're not sure where you'd be. Because truly, if it wasn't for him, you don't think you would have continued to try. He was the only thing that remained constant in your life, one of the only people who continued to show you genuine care and love despite your flaws and all.
"Have you eaten?" He suddenly speaks and changes the topic, not wanting to upset you any more than you already are.
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat something." You don't respond. "Mom made some kimbap today, I can set some aside for you."
"Thanks." You say softly, watching as the car finally drives into the familiar apartment complex. Seonghwa turns the wheel with one hand, pulling into his assigned parking spot before shutting off the car. He lets out a sigh before looking over at you, noticing you're still in your sad, sulky position in the passenger seat.
"Ready? Or should we just sleep in here tonight?" You slowly turn and glare at him, mocking him before answering dramatically— knowing it's the most childish thing you can do right now, especially after Seonghwa took the time to find you and pick you up in this rain.
"Why don't you just leave me here?"
"Good with me. At least I don't have to lend you any more of my clothes and have you sleeping on my couch. Matter of fact, more kimbap for me." He says, stepping out of the car, keys rattling in his pocket as he turns to shut his car door. He continues to walk without worry because he knows the shit you pull.
You'll end up following him.
He doesn't even have to turn over his shoulder to make sure you do. He hears the car door slam after a few minutes, and he smirks a bit to himself before locking the car using the key fob in his pocket.
"You really have to slam my car door like that?" He asks, slightly looking over his shoulder before climbing up the steps.
"Sorry." You mumble, pathetically following your bestfriend with your arms crossed tightly against your chest. He unlocks his door and waits for you to make it up the steps, letting you step in and out of your shoes first before following you inside. He tosses his keys onto the entryway table before walking into the kitchen and pulling out his phone to text Soyeon that you were safe with him for the night.
"You can go shower first. Just take whatever you want from my closet." He says, eyes focused on the bag of kimbap his mom had dropped off earlier in the day. You simply nod and head straight to his closet, grabbing some pajama pants and a longsleeve. You toss your clothes into the bathroom sink, mentally making a note to ask Seonghwa if you can throw in a load of his laundry with your clothes. The last thing you wanna do is make a mess in Seonghwa's super clean apartment, let alone drag home some wet clothes from the night prior.
The shower you take is short, but relaxing. You let the hot water beat down on you, thoroughly scrubbing and scratching every inch of your body, your scalp. When you finish, you lather some lotion and pad back out to his living room. Seonghwa glances up, watching as you come towards him with his long pajama pants and a long sleeve with sleeves that falls past your hands. He thinks you're the cutest thing he has ever seen [especially in his clothes], but he subtly bites onto his bottom lip to suppress the smile forming at his lips.
"Can I do some of your laundry so I can wash my clothes? They're just sitting in your bathroom sink." He shrugs.
"Don't worry about it, I'll toss it in there before I hop into the shower." He slides a small plate on the counter of his kitchen island bar area, before handing you a hot cup of green tea. "Eat at least one." You nod, watching as he washes his hands and begins to make his way to the bathroom. You're hungrier than you thought, popping in all the pieces of kimbap Seonghwa prepared for you before downing the green tea. In the end, you feel full, satisfied.
Content.
Warm.
After a good thirty minutes, Seonghwa is out of the shower and tossing the load into the dryer. He's ruffling his semi-dry hair as he brings out a thick blanket for you, glancing at the random Cars movie playing on the tv.
"Here." He says. "You finished eating?"
"Mhm."
"Okay. I'm gonna go to bed then." He turns to head into his room.
"Hwa, can't you just sleep out here with me?" You point at the free part of his L-shaped sectional couch.
"Why, when I have a perfectly comfortable bed to sleep on in here?" He points to his room, but you pout.
"But, you also have an amazing couch that you can share with your bestfriend."
"You snore and you move around too much."
"I do not, and you'd be on that side of the couch anyway!" You furrow your brows. "You snore, too!"
"Not as loud as you, sounding like you belong in that Cars movie." He glances at the tv screen while making the dumb joke, and you groan.
"Okay, fine. Whatever." You succumb to defeat and wave the white flag. "I just don't necessarily wanna be alone."
"You're not, I'm right here."
"Pichu." Ah, there it is. That stupid nickname he's painfully grown to adore after you've told him time and time again that he looks just like the pokemon. He sighs, realizing you probably won't let this up. On top of that, he knows he can't say no to you regarding most things. So, he drags himself into his room and rips off his duvet comforter from the bed to bring with him into the living room. He sets himself up on one section of the couch, while you take up the other— heads meeting at the corner.
"The moment you rip out a big snore, I'm leaving you out here." He warns and you snort.
"You're a dick. I don't even snore like that."
"And how would you know, sleeping beauty?" He looks at you, heart content with the way you happily look at him from your side of the couch. You have no rebuttal though, so he shuts off the tv and rests his hand on the back of his head while closing his eyes. "Thought so. Get some sleep, it's getting late." He hears you rustling underneath your own blankets, head gently knocking onto the side of his that makes him suck his teeth. "Y/N." He groans with a whiney tone. "This is what I mean."
"Sorry, sorry." You pout, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm good now." You mumble underneath the blankets as you settle, satisfied with your warm and bundled position. You can hear Seonghwa's soft breathing behind you, signaling that he'll probably fall asleep soon [and quick, too]. "Hwa?" You softly call for him one last time.
"Hm?" He hums.
"Thank you." You pause. "For everything."
"You know I care about you more than anything, right?" He says, close to a whisper. "You deserve way better."
"Yeah." Is all you respond with before closing your eyes, hoping to finally be at peace for the remainder of the night. "Love you, pichu." You say sleepily.
"Love you, too." He feels the statement tug at his heart strings because Seonghwa does love you, he has loved you for years. Been in love with you for years. But you were always the most important, this dynamic and relationship was the most important, that he's learned to suppress and live with it— even though at times, he feels like he gives it away pretty easily, or lets his emotions get to the best of him. 
Everyone can tell. 
Everyone knows. 
Everyone but you. 
Surprisingly, you do fall asleep before Seonghwa. He can't help but peek from his peripherals, noticing your steady breathing under the covers. Your head is barely poking out from the covers, making Seonghwa smile to himself. He settles a little closer to you, top of your head tucked near the crook of his neck as he slightly turns towards your side and finally shuts his eyes to get some sleep.
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When you wake up the following morning, it's because Seonghwa's cussing to himself as he runs to grab his ringing phone on the island counter. His eyes quickly dart to you as he snatches the phone and answers the call, noticing you're starting to wake up.
"Sorry, Y/N." He apologizes and you let out a small squeak as you stretch and shake your head.
"It's okay, Hwa. Should probably get up anyway." You rub at your eyes, watching as he paces back into his room to finish getting ready for work. He's apparently talking to Wooyoung, agreeing to pick the guy up after bringing you home since they work at the same place— two athletic trainers for the men's sports teams at one of the universities in town, Wooyoung and Seonghwa mainly taking care of the football and basketball teams, popping into other sports if the help is urgently needed. They've both worked really hard to earn their current positions, being two of the leads who focus on training, treatment and rehabilitating their athletes at homebase, and only participating in a few quick trips for away games if asked.
As you stand and start to fold the blanket, you catch sight of how tired Seonghwa looks and you feel terrible. You know Seonghwa loves to test his limits, working out late after his shifts and barely getting 8 hours of sleep right before a busy day of tending to athletes. Despite your nagging and lecturing him on getting more rest, Hwa has gotten used to doing things this way.
However, part of you still feels guilty that he doesn't look as bright and alert this morning because of you. Because you needed more saving, because you chose to be stubborn and listen to Mingi even though he hasn't given you a reason to trust him since you've broken up.
"I didn't mean to wake you so early."
"I mean, you do have to leave soon, don't you?" You check the clock, peeping the current time as 8:27am. "Isn't this really late for you, actually?" Especially during the season, Seonghwa is always at work by 6AM, leaving super late in the afternoon. Off-season is a little easier for him, being that practice schedules are spread out due to sharing space with other sports/teams.
"Not for today. The team is lifting right now, I need to work on some rehab reports first before training and practice later today." You nod. "Are you good to leave soon then?"
"Of course."
"Okay, let me just grab a few things so we can head out. I need to pick up Wooyoung's lazy ass."
"He's not in to help with lifting?"
"Not anymore. Dude overslept." You snort.
"Why am I not surprised?"
"Director Shin loves him. She would never get him in trouble or scold him."
"She loves you, too." You say.
"Not as much as Wooyoung. She'll bite my head off first before she ever thinks about coming for him." He throws in some food into his duffle bag solely for work. The duffle bag is huge, having the university's name plastered on the side in big, bold letters— followed by his name etched onto the corner with his athletic training certification. "By the way." He points at your neatly folded, washed clothes on the coffee table. "Don't forget your clothes."
"Thanks."
"Are you just gonna go home like that?" He eyes his clothes on your figure.
"Yeah, why not?" He shrugs.
"Alright then. Let's go." He pats himself down to double check that he has everything on him before heading out of the door. You lazily follow behind after slipping into your sneakers, having to roll up Seonghwa's pajama pants so that they don't reach the floor and get dirty. You plop into the passenger's seat with your clothes on your lap, rubbing at your eyes once situated. "You didn't have to get up so early. I technically don't need to be there until 10."
"It's fine, Hwa."
"Did you tell Yaya we were on the way?"
"No, I'll just surprise her when I get there." You smile and he shakes his head.
"You need to stop worrying your grandma and your cousin."
"I'm not even doing anything!"
"You're not? Then, what was last night?" He glances at you then lets out a small scoff. "Exactly. And please stop running back to Mingi. That dude isn't gonna change, and you know that. All he does is make you upset and I can't stand it. You two aren't good for each other."
"I hear you." You say lowly, head leaning against the passenger window.
"I'm sorry." He lets out a breath, genuinely just worried about you and your wellbeing. "I don't mean to do this so early, but I just get worried about you." He ruffles your hair a bit, causing a small smile to creep up on the corners of your lips.
"It's okay. I need to hear it." He chuckles.
"Yeah, you do. You're such a fucking headache." He jokes. "But you're important to me, and all I want is for you to be happy." He pinches your cheeks, making you scrunch your nose.
"Thanks Hwa." He looks at you while posted at a stop light, admiring the way you scrunch your nose and let out a little giggle. That's how he likes to see you. Not upset, sad, or crying. Especially over Song Mingi.
The drive to your house isn't too far, or at least, it never feels too far since you and Seonghwa always engage in conversations about various things while in the car. He pulls into Yaya's driveway, parking right next to Soyeon's car. You occupy the tiny detached in-law suite in the corner of the backyard, so Seonghwa isn't surprised when you try to scurry to the backyard to avoid Yaya and Soyeon.
"She's here!" He yells and points at you.
"You're a pain in the fucking ass, Park." You glare at him while you simultaneously hear Yaya telling you to come into the house and to not even think about running into the backyard.
"Oh, Yaya! Miss damsel in distress just walked in."
"Y/N. You should've called or texted. We were worried when we didn't hear from you." Yaya looks at you disappointingly while whipping up some breakfast.
"Sorry." You mumble as Seonghwa brushes past you to kiss ass to Yaya.
"Always needing her bestfriend to come and save the day." Soyeon says sarcastically before crossing his arms. "Seriously, what the hell would you do without Hwa? And why the hell didn't you make it home in time or text to let us know you'd be late?"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hi to you too." You squint at her. "He was supposed to bring me home but we got into another stupid fight, that's all." You roll your eyes before glancing at the empty luggages she has next to her.
"So, he just let you walk in the rain? What a fucking dick."
"Language." Yaya warns, glaring at the two of you from the kitchen next to Seonghwa, who is quickly peeling a banana he took from the fruit basket.
"Where are you going?" You nod at the luggages.
"Me and Junseo are heading to Japan in a few days." She smiles. "We're way overdue for our anniversary vacation. Meaning, you're gonna have to man the restaurant." You groan. "And watch Charli? Pretty please." She pleads in a sweet tone, knowing you'll always do anything for their 3 year old daughter.
"Seriously?!"
"Charli loves staying with you and Yaya! And all you have to do for the restaurant is make sure everything runs smoothly and be the cute waitress that you already are! It's nothing you haven't done! Plus, Yoongi and Jini will be there, and Charli will be in preschool for the most part." At this point, you whine [moreso about maintaining the restaurant] while Soyeon continues to check the list on her phone.
"Speaking of the restaurant, are you free tonight?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at his phone.
"I don't know, depends on my boss here." You glare at Soyeon before looking back at Seonghwa. "Why?"
"San is back home so we're going out to the bar."
"Excuse me?!" You yell. "What the fuck!"
"Hey!" Yaya glares at you again. "Say that word one more time in my house."
"Okay, I'm sorry!" You point at Seonghwa. "But, you! Why didn't you tell me about Sannie coming back?!"
"How could I? You were too busy sulking over Mingi." He says, furrowing his brows with a cheek full of banana. Soyeon snorts and shakes her head, making you glare at the both of them.
"Ha-ha very funny. You didn't think you could tell me any other day?"
"Well, he wasn't even supposed to be coming back until next week. But he just texted us saying he decided to come back early and that he's already settled at the condo his uncle owns."
"Why aren't I getting these texts?" Seonghwa smirks and flicks your chin with his finger.
"Because boys need to talk about boy things."
"Oh whatever, it's not like any of you are getting any—"
"Seonghwa, please. Tell that girl to stop talking like that." Yaya pleads for him to tell you to keep it quiet. He chuckles a bit before looking at you pointedly, tapping the tip of your nose.
"Stop that." He smiles down at you. "And who said we weren't?"
"Please, all you guys do is yell while playing FIFA and Mario Party." You sigh. "Anyway, I'm going back to sleep for a bit. I'll come in for an earlier shift at the restaurant so that I can see Sannie." You direct the statement at Soyeon and all she does is nod.
"Pick you up afterwards then?"
"Ah, it's okay. Usual bar, right?" He nods. "I'll just bus over." You tap his chest. "Thanks pichu, see you later. Have fun at work!" At this point, Yaya is walking towards Soyeon and Seonghwa, hands placed on her hips as she observes you skipping to your in-law suite.
"Hwa." Yaya tugs on his arm before he can help Soyeon pack the large luggages in her trunk and head out to pick up Wooyoung.
"Hm?"
"It should just be you two." She pouts, making Seonghwa laugh. Time and time again, Yaya has always pushed the 'you and Seonghwa' agenda, stating that you two were meant to be together. And Seonghwa doesn't mind, he always laughs about it. He kinda likes that Yaya [everyone, really] thinks so, and if things were easy, he'd make it happen without question. But things aren't— because there's always that voice in the back of his head that tells him he needs to leave things as they are or else everything will be ruined.
He doesn't want that.
He would rather bury his feelings than lose you.
There's no way you'd go that route with him. You've made it clear to everyone that Seonghwa was your bestfriend and your bestfriend only. That people need to quit shoving the idea down your throat because you could never; he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt to hear it.
"Yaya, you already know the answer to that." He says anyway and she pouts even more, leaning her head against his firm bicep.
"But you're the only one who knows how to handle her. She's such a handful but you've always stayed by her side."
"Mm, I don't think I necessarily had a choice." Yaya chuckles and gently swats his arm playfully.
"You two should just kiss and get married."
"Kiss and get married? Wow. What a plan." Soyeon says sarcastically, making Seonghwa laugh.
"No can do with that one." He places a small kiss on the top of her head before helping Soyeon with the last large luggage. "I gotta pick up Wooyoung and head to work. Text or call me if you need me." Seonghwa says.
"Make sure my baby cousin doesn't do anything reckless tonight when she's out with you guys? Like, I don't know, run to Mingi while drunk?" Seonghwa shakes his head at Soyeon's response.
"Won't let her out of my sight." He waves one last goodbye before settling into his car and driving off.
It's 20 minutes to Wooyoung's apartment, and another 15 to the university from there. When he arrives, Wooyoung tosses his own duffle bag in the back and plops into the passenger's seat before slouching into it.
"Did you find babygirl?" Wooyoung asks, making Seonghwa furrow his brows at him.
"Yes I did, and stop calling her that."
"Why, are you jealous? You can't gatekeep Y/N to yourself. I'm close to her, too." Wooyoung smirks.
"Shut up before I make you walk to work." Seonghwa glares at him. "It's not even that, it's just weird."
"Why is it weird?"
"Because it is."
"Because you love her?"
"Get the hell out—"
"I'm sorry! I'm kidding!" Wooyoung says in a high-pitched tone before laughing. "But, really, it's not weird."
"Yes, it is."
"She loves it and she's used to it. Therefore, I'll keep using it. Resting my case, your honor." Wooyoung snorts. "What happened last night anyway?"
"I don't know, she got into a fight with Mingi and walked out."
"He didn't come after her? It was pouring."
"Nope. She was gonna walk to.. I don't know, actually. She was just walking in the rain."
"That's not okay." Wooyoung sucks his teeth and does a slight head tilt. "They're toxic as hell to each other." Seonghwa shrugs.
"I know. I tried to tell her but at a certain point, that's all I can do. It gets really hard to control someone's behavior and police their actions."
"Can I ask you something?" Wooyoung looks at him with a small smile. "I'm genuinely curious."
"What?" 
"Why haven't you made your move on Y/N? Your feelings for her have always been obvious."
"Have they? Seems like she's the only one who hasn't seen it." Wooyoung shrugs.
"Yeah. I mean, you drop everything— and I mean everything— for her without question. And you get all affectionate with her!" His tone raises a bit. "You hate initiating affection! If that ain't love.." Wooyoung tilts his head again and squints at Seonghwa.
"She's my bestfriend. All of that happens naturally."
"It's not just that, and you know it. I know people really do put their bestfriends on a pedestal, but you put babygirl before anyone and anything. Even yourself." Seonghwa slightly winces at the Wooyoung's nickname before shaking his head.
"Not true."
"Very true. Look, dude. It's not bad, but I do hope you leave some space for yourself. I know she would never intentionally hurt you, but it still doesn't eliminate the possibility of getting hurt at some point. I don't want that to happen, especially if you've poured everything in her over these years." Seonghwa lets out a breath and pauses for a moment because for once, Wooyoung makes sense. And he's right. He has poured everything in you, continues to pour everything in you very willingly— sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's putting you before everything, that he's dropping everything for you.
Hell, it's even to the point where he can't even date properly and sleeps around from time to time to let out steam. It's because he just feels this attachment to you; an attachment past being your bestfriend— like some thread of hope he holds onto, thinking that some day, you'll see him in that light.
Someone who could genuinely, deeply and strongly love you, care for you, support you, with no boundaries.
"I know."
"Why don't you just tell her? You know, be honest." Wooyoung shrugs. 
"I don't wanna lose her, and I'm afraid I will if I do. I'm afraid I'll fuck everything up between us and change the dynamic just because I wanted to be selfish."
"I don't think you'd lose her. I'm sure she wouldn't let that change anything between the two of you, either. And why don't you think she'd go for it?"
"I just don't think she would."
"Maybe she's thinking the same way as you." Wooyoung sees the university in sight and starts to loosen himself up, getting ready to head out of the door as soon as Seonghwa pulls into a spot. "I think you should go for it, Hwa. You can't live like this forever. You love her, she should know. And if things don't work out, I doubt she'll let that change things between you two. You two understand each other well, and you both make sense together."
"Mm, yeah. Thanks." Seonghwa gives him a pursed smile before Wooyoung slips off his seatbelt and smiles.
"Guess that means I can tag along again tomorrow?" Seonghwa rolls his eyes and steps out of the car before slamming his door.
"I'll think about it, lazy ass."
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♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @cheolliehugs @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab
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imnameimswrld · 1 day
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. . . ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐆 ⁰⁰ ׄ ⑅ JJK ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ
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— DESCRIPTION ੭ jk gets some family time off, and the first thing he does is boom a flight to China to see you race.
— PAIRING ੭ jeon jungkook x gf!ferrari!driver.
— FILE ੭ social media au.
— DISCLAIMERS ੭ pet names (baby, my pretty girl), short and sweet !
— FACE CLAIM ੭ none.
❪ main masterlist | kpop masterlist | bts masterlist ❫
━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━
ynusername
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liked by ursister, uarmyhope, and 1 243 344 others
ynusername guess who's baacckkk (for a bit) ❤.
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user1 OH MY GOD IT'S OUR FAVOURITE F1 WAG
user2 MY PARENTS HAVE BEEN REUNITED TT
user3 shut up I've missed them they're so cute 😭😭
user4 petition for jk to return home because man's has served enough and mother misses him. [ liked by ynusername and 565+ others ]
ursister added to their story ! • 1hr
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ynusername added to their story ! • 1hr
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j.m replied to your story !
yn, help.
he won't stop crying.
jesus, bro looks like he lost bam and yet, it's just coz u won won a race.
hey ! I worked damn hard to win jimin.
yeah yeah, now please come collect ur man, he's rubbing his snot all over my versace shirt.
user1 replied to your story !
if you two beak up, love isn't real anymore.
so true.
abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz
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abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz might just sneak u into my bag, because damnit woman... i love you so much.
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user1 bro just revived his account for this post no one talk to me because I'm not gwenchana.
user2 oh to have a love like this...
ynusername baby, I'm already in ur suitcase.
↳ abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz perfect, I'll shove a little straw in there so my pretty girl doesn't suffocate, okay ?
↳ ynusername and snacks ?
↳ abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz of course hon, what kind of boyfriend do u take me for ? [ liked by ynusername ]
user3 God, it's me again.
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Note
Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader
Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???
Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!
Thank you! :)
you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue
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summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment
fic type fluff
pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader
word count 1.8k
warnings none
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The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.
So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.
And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.
"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.
For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.
"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.
"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"
This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.
If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.
The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.
Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.
One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.
You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”
Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.
"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.
"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.
But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.
Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.
But for you it just made your love for her grow.
One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.
"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.
"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.
You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.
If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.
"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."
You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.
Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.
However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.
But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.
Nor did you.
"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.
"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."
"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"
"What do we tell the little ones?"
"The truth?"
"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"
"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."
"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."
The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.
"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"
She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.
"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"
The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.
"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"
Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.
"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."
While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.
You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.
She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.
Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.
You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.
But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.
Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.
The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.
At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.
Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.
Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.
When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...
"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.
She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.
Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.
Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"
Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?
She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.
"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.
Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.
Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.
Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.
"It's a date, L/n."
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hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!
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6ix9inewiturmom · 15 hours
Text
Long day- matt Sturniolo
Summary: You had a long day at work and matt gives you some lovin to help with your long day :)
Warnings: SMUT, P in V, parsing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, use of Y/N, Dirty talking, Degradation, aftercare!
A/N: I LOVE SWEET MATT!! ITS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!! ignore the song, i couldn’t find one so since he knows sm about bags
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Today has genuinely been the worst and longest day of my life. I’ve worked front desk at a salon for the last year and a half now, i had people coming in asking me about what to do for their hair type, karen’s complaining about their hair, just overall horrible, im just the front desk lady for right now i cant really tell these fucking people what to do, make a damn appointment. Matt and I have been together for 3 years, and have been dating to the public for a year and a half, when i graduated cosmetology school. thankfully after this cursed wednesday evening i was on my way to Matt and i’s house that we also share with his triplet brothers. i pull into the driveway and make my way to the door and unlocking it.
“Baby?” i yell walking up the steps.
“he’s been in his room playing video games streaming for like 4 hours” nick says shooting me a quick smile before looking back at his phone.
i knock softly on the door “jesus christ im streaming guys” matt slams his head set down on his table and opens the door “Wha- oh my god Y/N i’m so sorry i thought it was one of them” he says quickly changing his tone giving me a soft peck on the lips.
“it’s fine” i breath out giving him a smile walking into his room.
“tell the stream Hi, baby” he pulls my hand into frame making me force a smile onto my face.
“hi everyone” i awkwardly wave to his camera watching the chat go absolutely crazy when i entered.
“okay well i’m gonna end this cause the mother of my future kids just got here” he says making a smile appear on my face.
he ends the stream and turns around facing me almost analyzing me.
“why do you keep looking at me like that?” i roll my eyes and make my way to our shared closet pulling out a pair of his sweats and a T shirt of his.
he walks towards me leaning against the door frame “all of your clothes in that closet and you still choose to wear mine, but to answer your question you seem off” he says softening his tone.
“i’m fucking fine matt, damn, all on my ass for nothing” i groan out pushing him out of my way and falling on the bed scrolling on my phone.
“umm okay” he huffs sitting down next to me on the bed “so how was work?” he says breaking the silence of tiktok playing in the background.
i groan “it was long i guess” i place my phone on the bedside table and turn towards him.
“you guess?” he questions giving me a soft smile.
“find it was so dreadful, answering calls from people who can look up these answers on google, and oh my god i had this karen come in and” i laugh softly “and she literally accidentally tried this hair mask and fried half her hair and blamed it on me, knowing i’m just the front desk representative, then on top of all of that this lady yelled at me for eating carrots at the front desk” i say while he’s staring at me passionately listening to everything i have to say.
“did you say anything to that lady who yelled at you?” he asked while looking in my eyes as passionately as he can.
“my manager heard her yelling at me calling me ‘unprofessional and rude’ and ended up almost calling the cops on her for causing a disturbance” i smile back at him.
“well it sounds like to me you need a little distraction from your long day at work eh?” he smirks leaning into me as i playfully roll my eyes and lean into him crashing his lips onto mine smiling into his kiss.
he softly places his hand on my cheek pointing his tongue out a little begging to explore my mouth, i slightly open my mouth as his tongue dives into my mouth immediately taking dominance from my tongue and intertwining with mine. his hand travels from my cheek to my breast giving my bare breast a gentle squeeze causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. his hand travels down to my waist and toying with the waistband of my his sweatpants.
“can i?” matt pulls away and softly asks me.
i smile and playfully roll my eyes “yes matt you can”
he carefully crawls on top of me tapping my waist as a signal to lift my hips up. he pulls my pink lacy underwear and pants down together in one throwing them on the other side of the room.
“such a pretty pussy” he says softly running his slim fingers in between my wet folds collecting my arousal onto his fingers “and so wet” he smirks back up at me.
“matt” i drag his name out in a whine, “please don’t tease me” i stare desperately into his eyes through my eyelashes.
“Only because you asked so nicely my love” he smiles at me leaning down and starts placing mouth kisses directly into my clit flicking upwards with his tongue.
“Oh fuck Matt” I moan out placing my hand on top of his head and pulling at his hair causing him to grunt through my pussy sending vibrations through me.
“You like this hm?” he smiles and shoves his fingers into my hole curving them slightly upward and making me go absolutely insane.
“Yes!” I chant repeatedly.
My walls tighten around his fingers and my clit spasms between his teeth. “Someone’s close eh?” he smirks leaning his head upwards while moving his fingers in and out while reaching my sensitive clit with his thumb making figure 8 movements around my bud.
“S-so close Matt” I cry out arching my back off the bed and rolling my eyes back.
“Uh-huh? You close?” he taunts smiling at me and immediately thrusts his fingers into me touching my G-spot so easily.
“YES- FUCK MATT” My hips twitched upwards “FUCK I'M GONNA CUM” I scream out bucking my hips up.
“Come on baby, cum for me” his voice softens looking down at me coming unglued from just his fingers with amusement in his eyes.
With just his words, the knot in my stomach broke and cum dripped down from me and onto his fingers.
He lightly tapped my leg “I ain't done with you just yet, sweetheart” he said smirking at me.
“Matt I don't know if I can take another one..” I said out of breath still coming down from my very intense orgasm.
“You know your safe word, Y/N,” he says ripping his shirt off. “And you never have to be afraid of using it, I'll stop immediately you know this.” he pulls his sweatpants and boxers off in one freeing his hard cock and slapping his stomach.
he crawls over me placing my legs on either side of his hips and slowly agonizing using his tip to slide through my wet folds teasing me.
“Matt,” i whine “please fuck me”
“Patience sweet girl, patience” he smiles at me slapping his cock on my clit and making me jerk upwards and squeal.
He slowly puts his tip into me then removes it and slowly enters it again and removes it before roughly bottoming out into me gripping the headboard for support making his knuckles white.
“Oh Matt” i moan out.
He rolls his hips deeper into me smirking down at me “You like this hm? God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, and taking it so fucking well” he groans out.
My legs wrap around his waist forcing his body to get deeper each time he pushes himself into me making my eyes roll back into my head causing me to see starts, My moans become hoarse from the strain on my voice.
“Aww has my gorgeous whore gone dumb? Can't talk? What happened to all that attitude you had earlier?” he grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger.
“Uh huh, uh huh” i bite my lower lip and nodding vigorously.
“Words or I stop” he thrusts his hips deeper into me and maintains his violent thrusts.
“YES MATT FUCK- RIGHT FUCKIN THERE” I finally answer him with a strain in my voice.
My response only made him thrust into me deeper and faster. My cervix spasms around his cock signaling how close i am making a long groan exit from his lips. “Hold it”
He rolls his hips and pounds his hips into mine “Matt” I drag out his name with a moan.
“Come on, you got it” he nods his head continuing to thrust and abuse my cervix.
“S-so f-fucking close” I whisper scream out.
“Cum” he buries his head into my neck moving his hips in a way that kisses my cervix making me release all over his cock creating a white ring around the base of his cock.
His thrusts become sloppier as he releases into me painting my once pink walls a nice white color and slowly pulling out watching a mixture of his cum and mine slowly fall from my hole.
He vaults to his bathroom quickly so no one catches a glimpse of him or me in our naked state to grabs a warm cloth and slowly runs it down my legs cleaning him and me up before lying next to me placing my head on his chest.
“I'm sorry for the attitude I had earlier, I just had a rough day and shouldn't have taken it out on you,” I say “Thank you for lighting my mood up” I smile facing the TV drawing small circles on his stomach.
“Hey don't worry about it, we all got bad days baby, I'm just glad you're good now, that's all that matters to me” he softly says running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp and falling fast asleep in Matts arms.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N Pt 2: HEY LOVES!! Sorry I haven't been so active in trying to recover from being violently hungover for the last 2 days LMFAOO… I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! i promise ill be active more!!
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mclennonlgbt · 2 days
Text
Paris in John and Paul’s life
30th September 1961:
“John and I went on a trip for his twenty-first birthday. John was from a very middle-class family, which really impressed me because everyone else was from working-class families. To us John was upper class. His relatives were teachers, dentists, even someone up in Edinburgh in the BBC. It’s ironic, he was always very ‘fuck you!’ and he wrote the song ‘Working Class Hero’ – in fact, he wasn’t at all working class. Anyway, one of John’s relatives gave him £100 for his birthday. A hundred smackers in your hand! That was a real windfall. None of us could believe it. To this day if you gave me £100 I would be impressed. And I was his mate, enough said? ‘Let’s go on holiday.’ – ‘You mean me too? With the hundred quid? Great! I’m part of this windfall.’” - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“We planned to hitchhike to Spain. I had done a spot of hitchhiking with George and we knew you had to have a gimmick; we had been turned down so often and we’d seen that guys that had a gimmick (like a Union Jack round them) had always got the lifts. So I said to John, ‘Let’s get a couple of bowler hats.’ It was showbiz creeping in. We still had our leather jackets and drainpipes – we were too proud of them not to wear them, in case we met a girl; and if we did meet a girl, off would come the bowlers. But for lifts we would put the bowlers on. Two guys in bowler hats – a lorry would stop! Sense of Humour. This, and the train, is how we got to Paris. - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“And Paul and I also did the same thing, once. We just cancelled. We’d made it, in Liverpool. We were making good money, for those days. I can’t remember what it was – maybe a couple of hundred dollars a week – but enough that you’d have a little extra. You’d have it in your back pocket. And Paul and I just— A relative of mine gave me a hundred pounds, for my birthday, which I’d never seen that much money in me life. Paul and I just canceled all the engagements, and left for Paris… And George was furious, because he needed the money – to work, you know. But that was another time when the group was in debate as whether it would exist or not.”  - John Lennon, 1976, an interview with Elliot Mintz
“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together – in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart Sutcliffe, Anthology
“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, ‘God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris – John was funding it all with his hundred quid.
We would walk miles from our hotel; you do in Paris. We’d go to a place near the Avenue des Anglais and we’d sit in the bars, looking good. I still have some classic photos from there. Linda loves one where I am sitting in a gendarme’s mac as a cape and John has got his glasses on askew and his trousers down revealing a bit of Y-front. The photographs are so beautiful, we’re really hamming it up. We’re looking at the camera like, ‘Hey, we are artsy guys, in a café: this is us in Paris,’ and we felt like that.
We went up to Montmartre because of all the artists, and the Folies Bergères, and we saw guys walking around in short leather jackets and very wide pantaloons. Talk about fashion! This was going to kill them when we got back. This was totally happening. They were tight to the knee and then they flared out; they must have been about fifty inches around the bottom and our drainpipe trousers were something like fifteen or sixteen inches. We saw these trousers and said, ‘Excusez-moi, Monsieur, où did you get them?’ It was a cheap little rack down the street so we bought a pair each, went back to the hotel, put them on, went out on the street – and we couldn’t handle it: ‘Do your feet feel like they are flapping? Feel more comfortable in me drainies, don’t you?’ So it was back to the hotel at a run, needle and cotton out and we took them in to a nice sixteen with which we were quite happy. And then we met Jürgen Vollmer on the street. He was still taking pictures." - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“Jürgen had a flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front, which we rather took to. We went over to his place and there and then he cut – hacked would be a better word – our hair into the same style.” - John Lennon, 1963
Interviewer: I heard you took a trip to Spain before once, didn’t you? On Holiday? Paul: I didn’t go to Spain, no. I tried once to make Spain but… and John and I were gonna hitchhike. We hitchhiked down from Liverpool… We didn’t hitchhike. No, we got the train down from Liverpool ‘cause we thought we won’t hitchhike down the first bit. And we got the boat over to Paris. Then we got the train into Paris ‘cause we thought: “Well, it’ll be too hard to get a hitch here”. And we just stayed in Paris all week. And eventually… I mean, all the time trying to get out of Paris and make Spain! We never made it, we just flew home at the end. What a lazy hitchhiking Holiday!
“The thing was all the kissing and holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic just to be there and see them even though I was 21 and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing. And they weren’t not mauling at each other, they were just kissing.” - John Lennon
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As was written in this post: That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.
Unconfirmed quote (may or may not be true): 
"He must have been fond of me to spend that money. He let me have all the banana milkshakes I wanted.”  - Paul McCartney
In January 1964, only a few scant weeks before the Beatles took America by storm, the band mates settled in for an extended stay in Paris. For the group, the Parisian visit proved to be a magical experience, with the Beatles playing 18 shows at the Olympia Theatre between Jan. 16 and Feb. 4 (source).
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The photo Paul took of John (in the "Eyes Of The Storm" book):
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1969:
Hoping to get married in France, John Lennon and Yoko Ono flew to Paris on this day [16th March].
The couple had decided to marry on 14 March 1969, two days after the wedding of Paul McCartney to Linda Eastman; whether it was in response to this event on some level is open to conjecture.
On McCartney’s wedding day Lennon and Ono were travelling to Poole in Dorset, where he introduced her to his Aunt Mimi. During the journey he asked his chauffeur Les Anthony to go to Southampton to enquire about the possibility of the wedding being held at sea, on the cross-channel ferry to France.
(source)
“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible” - Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life (2008)
"We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required." - John Lennon
1974:
“After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.””
— May Pang, Loving John (1983)
1978:
Wings album "London Town" is released. It includes the song "Cafe on the Left Bank", the lyrics of which clearly refer to John and Paul's trip to Paris.
Late 1970s: John is singing to Paul about Paris in a home recording.
1994 - Paul inducting John to Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:
“And then on your 21st birthday you got £100 off one of your rich relatives up in Edinburgh, so we decided we’d go to Spain. So we hitch-hiked out of Liverpool. And we got as far as Paris, and decided to stop there for a week. And eventually got our haircut, by a fellow named Jürgen, and that ended up being the ‘Beatle haircut’.”
I also remember watching an interview with Paul about his album "Memory Almost Full" (2007). Interviewer: There is a very beautiful song called "The End Of The End", the way you talk about your whole ending, and the lyric goes: "It's a start of a journey to a much better place." You mean, better than England? Paul: It's basically a start of a journey to France. Or Spain through France. Yeah, that's what it is. It's a much better place, Paris. (unfortunately, I don't have a link)
Also worth mentoning:
"All You Need Is Love" begins with La Marseillaise.
"Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" contains French-language speech by BBC broadcaster Pierre Le Sève.
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laivi · 2 days
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— " (I'M) WAITING FOR THE SUN "
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。 ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: dazai osamu & reader.
SYNOPSIS: it was just a single string, so thin it could easily be cut with scissors, however, with just that mere red thread, it tied you to him.
tags ➜ alternate universe — modern, no abilities, painter!reader, writer!dazai dreams, pining, generally a fluff, soulmates trope, catching feelings, open ending, named reader — only last name though, dazai osamu is bad with feelings implication. ‹𝟹
⋆ author's notes: I wanted to try something new and the first thing that came in my mind was soulmates trope.
send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←
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You have always been a dreamer.
Oftentimes you would drift away from your surroundings into an imaginary world, your sense of reality blurring away.
In that world you would feel relaxed, happy and at peace even if it's for merely a few minutes. A world where you could erase everyday from your mind and form an illusion of something you were unable to grasp, a world filled with colors and beauty.
It's bittersweet.
And although it's painful knowing these are nothing more but surreal fantasies, hopes and dreams it's worth it in the end.
However—as of late, your daydreams changed into a one singular daydream that, for whatever reason, keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record.
Day or night, in the painting room or in the peace of your room, whenever you close your eyes, be it a ten minute nap or eight hours of sleep the same scenario will play in front of your eyes over and over again.
Sun will shine its way through the grass as your fingers brush against your creamy white lace dress. Birds will sing their song to which you'll hum under your breath as the fruity smell of just bloomed flowers lingers in the air.
You'll sing and dance and laugh as if you're the only one in the world.
Then after a while you'll approach a big cherry tree in bloom, and suddenly you won't be alone anymore. There, in front of that very tree, will stand a person with chocolate colored brown hair carried by the wind, wearing a white button up shirt along with black trousers.
They'll look in the distance, seemingly unfazed and each time and even after twenty times you've seen the ending, you would approach them slowly when—as if on cue the person will turn around and you would freeze up at your spot, your heart skipping a beat because in front of you will stand the most beautiful human you have ever encountered. For a moment, they'll lock eyes before they vanish into the air, leaving no trace behind.
Then you'll twitch, snapping back to reality.
bleary and cloudy, immense hues of darkness lay hold of your sight, then as the starch gradually settles to the bottom and the skim rises to the top, at last your eyes wearily open—unable to remember his face.
It's as if when their eyes lock everything fades and your brain stops. It's weird and the more times it happens the more annoying it gets.
The person in your dreams feels familiar yet so out of reach. Like you've known them your entire life but hasn't even met them yet, as if the two of you were tied by a red thread of fate.
His presence is strong. Unique. Strange.
You can remember the way the smell of carnations surrounded him, the way his chocolate colored brown hair rode on the breeze, the way they were so tall you almost felt embarrassed standing near him but you can't, for the love of god, remember their face.
You feel their stare on your face. You know that your eyes lock each time and that each time they do your heart skips a beat. You know it and yet you can't pinpoint even the most obvious things, like their color.
You want to know more and everytime that you feel like you're getting closer to discovering something, you would get pulled out of the state of unconsciousness, snapping you back into reality.
It was as if it was mocking you, laughing at the anger it was giving you.
Your eyebrows knitted together, hands balling into a fist.
You ha—
The sound of wood splitting in half brought you back into reality, disrupting the scrambles of thoughts beginning to form within your mind.
huh ?
You lift your head, met with the sight of your paintbrush splitted into two. The other half of the paintbrush falls, accompanied with the sound of thud.
Your lips, which were previously formed into a thin line, parted.
"nazoki, did you just break your brush?"
you tense up. you feel everyone's eyes shift to your frame, hushed whispers accompanied with snickers filling the room. sweat builds up on your hands as the giggles continued, and you bit down on your lip, hovering your gaze on your thighs.
"It can be easily fixed but remember, that's not your own and you need to learn how to be careful with the brushes."
meekly, you dipped your head in response.
"yes ma'am..."
It was already late when you arrived back home.
The sun had gone down, and the skies embraced by hues of warm colors had turned into vast of blackness already.
You didn't change out of your clothes, with the fatigue beginning to overtake your body, you didn't bother to do so.
You gently unlocked the door to your room and slipped inside.
you were greeted with pure abyss, which was anticipated since it was already night. however, there was still some disinctive things within the shadows, like the books sheltered on the shelves, the roses in the vase on the nightstand, and the paintings in the corner of your room.
you perk up.
you moved, walking towards to the empty canvas at the corner of your room.
In front of you, you laid down an empty white canvas and some newly bought paint from few days ago. without a second thought you started painting. You didn't know what you were going for just yet but you settled on just letting your hand move freely across the canvas.
One stroke then another—you paint sky, petals and a silhouette.
So far it's turning pretty decent but the more you draw the more anxious you became. The brush in your hand starts shaking as you reached out to paint the silhouette's face.
...
What now?
Cold sweat runs down your face and you had to take a moment to snap back to reality. Suddenly your stomach fills with dread and you had to take a break from painting.
The face. You couldn't remember the face.
You didn't finish the painting that day.
There is no need for you to open your eyes because when you came to your own senses, feeling grass beneath your palms as the sun beams directly in your face, you knew exactly where you were.
Despite going to sleep in a bad mood you can't help but feel strangely relaxed now that you're here.
Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and took a look around. Nothing, as far as you're aware, has changed. It's still the same dreamy place you visit everyday (sometimes even multiple times).
Birds are still singing, the sun is still shining and the flowers are still blooming.
After a short walk you find out the unknown person is also still here, simply staring at the distance.
You freeze in place and simply admires them from afar, staring at their back profile.
They stand there unbothered.
You take a big risk of walking up to them—not too close but not as far in an attempt to get a better view. Nothing.
You're scared.
Then you get a crazy idea.
Now you're terrified.
Quickly, before you get a chance to make a cowardly decision and back up, you ran towards the person and grabs their wrist, not giving them enough time to turn around.
First thing that you felt is warmth. Their skin is warm.
You lift your head head and meets their face that is now painted with a shocked expression, lips parted. When your eyes meet you felt fear, surprise, shock, happiness, anxiety all at once because you've finally caught them.
Then all emotions swirling within your chest dulls and the person slips away, disappearing from your grip once again.
First thing, you did when you woke up is rush towards the canvas and frantically attempts to copy down the face, that expression of surprise and alarm, as similar as possible before eventually it too leaves your mind.
However it doesn't turn out anything like you've seen just a few moments prior. The expression on its own looks pretty amazing and the face is really unique, not quite like anything you've drawn before, but it's not his.
Shit.
Why? why couldn't you do it?
You were so close and yet—
You slipped up.
You didn't get it. You needed to remember. You didn't know why.
All you knew is that this person drives you crazy.
Surrounding you, there was variety of pages of papers, canvas, multiple art supplies.
You pull out canvas after canvas messing up, repainting, scrapping, breaking, trying again, over and over again but nothing feels right.
Before long, what little memory of the person's face is left in your memory vanishes leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. You fall to your knees, gripping the paintbrush in your palm firmly, cursing yourself. Why? Why couldn't you remember?
It continues like this for a while. After every nap you would pull out your sketchbook, which has by now found its new place under your pillow, and try to sketch the face but each and every time you'd be met with another failed attempt.
It felt like a curse of some sort. Wanting to remember but not being able to. Wanting to know but not being able to meet. Wanting to understand but not being able to learn.
You've tried many different ways. You tried jumping him. You tried running into him. You tried approaching him slowly. Sometimes you'd lock eyes with him, sometimes he'd disappear the moment they establish physical contact. You'd sketch day and night but you just couldn't nail it.
Slowly but noticeably a pile of crumpled up paper in your trash can started increasing. So far you've ruined three canvases and wasted almost an entire sketchbook which gave her an confrontation from your roommate, both from the trash and the one canvas you borrowed from her.
"If you need canvas, please just buy one for yourself. I'm gonna get scolded by my mother."
"the trash can in your room is starting to overflow with trash... some of the trash are even on the floor already, please dispose of them if you can. I don't know what you're trying to do but you should give it a little break, it doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere either way."
you've apologized multiple times for it, but in spite of her intentions being different, the painful truth behind her words pierces through your heart like an arrow. You weren't not getting anywhere that much is right but she's trying.
you were trying so hard because for the first time in a while you had a goal set in mind.
That night you didn't bother the guy. Instead, you sat down leaning on that big tree watching him stand just a few meters ahead of you.
You haven't given up of course but god you were tired. you sigh, releasing the tension in your body, closing your eyes beneath the tree's shadow.
You didn't know what you expected but someone snapping you out of your thoughts you sitting next to you was not it.
For a moment, you were too scared to look aside because this is a rare opportunity and you couldn't mess this up and yet at the same time you could wake up at any moment so if you were to waste this it would eat you up from inside for days. Anxiously, you moved your head and catches sight of the brown haired individual's side profile. It's the sight so dazzling you suck in your breath and bites your lip and just stares.
Every time you visit, you noticed a small detail you haven't before. Like how they shift from one leg to the other when the cold breeze brushes against their concealed arms, you wondered if it was really that cold for him, or how messy his hair was, you could've presumed he didn't take care of himself.
Today, you notice his eyes are shimmering brown, bright and full of life, no . they weren't full of life, they were filled with pure abyss, barely reflecting any source of tiny sparks. He was tired, lonely, and empty. You wondered how long they spent in this realm. Does he have a home? What's his story and how did he end up here? Just now after you take a good look at them, you started questioning all those things. Up until now all you knew was that they were here each time you fell asleep and that your face gets red and your heart skips a beat whenever you get near.
For the first time that you stared at them for more than two seconds, you started noticing all the little details. His bone structure, every single lash on his eye, even how messy his hair was. You take a mental note of it and stares for so long that you didn't even realize he might've feel awkward until they cough and move their face to the side, hiding their face a little bit further with the locks of his hair.
"I'm sorry."
You speak up slowly.
You wonder if he was even real.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, cold, suffocating silence.
He gives her a side eye but don't say a word. You, not knowing how to react, just stares. You stare back, drowning in their eyes, not even realizing how close they've gotten to each other.
You have drawn many portraits of many different people up until this point in your life. The beauty of it all is that every person is different, unique and beautiful in their own way. Each painting you did is special because it's not like any other. That's, in your opinion, the beauty of this world. Even now, this person that might be nothing more than a fragment of your wild imagination is unlike any other you've met.
They are so beautiful it made you sick. Not just their physical appearance but their aura and their company. The way when their hands touch it sends an electric shock through your body or the way you get all warm and fuzzy inside when you were near him.
you swallowed down a thick saliva, forcing yourself to speak again, you didn't know what you were gonna say but with the tense atmosphere between the two of you, you wanted to ease it up, thus allowing the words in your throat to carry out.
"Hey."
The boy shifts his gaze towards you upon your call, moving his head along his gaze. You feel the hue of light red beginning to adorn your cheeks as soon he turns his head to your direction.
You fidgeted with your fingers, "You're a very pretty person."
You could feel his stare on you, but he didn't utter a single word.
"When I say pretty, I don't mean it just at that... you're so pretty that I could be with you all day just to watch the cherry blossom tree's bright pink light glow on your skin and how it brings out a million subtle sparks of color in your eyes, and In the evening, I could draw you all night long until I have no more strength, and when it's finally night with the moon, I could close my eyes to remember the day going by as a reflection of you."
as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how close your faces were with just a few centimeters apart from each other. you two were so close, It distilled a warm fuzzy feeling within your chest.
"you're quite talkative."
for once within several dreams, he finally uttered a single word, and just the mere sound of his voice made you speechless. he leans his head slightly closer and you couldn't help but think that your faces will crash. you were sure your faces will crash and you're scared if they do the universe as we know will explode but the world collapses before you could get a chance to blink and suddenly you were panting in the pitch dark of an all too familiar room.
They say everything comes with its good and bad sides so you presumed the same must go for this entire situation too.
If it were up to you, you'd say the good thing is you finally finished your painting. After so much time and effort you have finally created something you're satisfied with.
Bad, or rather unfortunate, thing is that the next time you went to sleep you didn't dream at all. At first you thought it was a mistake so you pulled her blanket over your frame and went to sleep again despite the morning sun desperately trying to climb on your bed through the closed windows and your roommate gently knocking on your door.
Nothing.
After a few more times of not being able to wake up in that imaginary world of yours, you started to freak out a little. It was understandable though. When you spend so much time somewhere, so much that it turns into a habit, it's only natural to get worried when it abruptly stops with no sign whatsoever.
For now you'll just have to learn to adjust to your new reality.
It has been a year since you last dreamed of that dream.
you struggled to accept the truth, occasionally glancing at the painting you've finished right after your last dream. however, as time passed by, you managed to divert your attention to much more important things, slowly forgetting the world you would often dream off.
you didn't know whether you liked it or not but you supposed it was fine since a lot of great opportunities were beginning to appear to you.
"That's why nazoki-san, we would love to invite you as a guest artist for our next gallery showcase!" Words were ringing in your ears like an echo. There were thousands and one emotion flowing through her body. Excitement, joy, disbelief, anxiety and so much more.
Finally, It's finally happening. You couldn't help but think to yourself. All that hard work and effort is finally paying off.
When you got a call from a nearby gallery asking for someone with your last name, you presumed it was for your mother, a professional artist who had few of her works showcased there, that's why the first thing you felt when they said it's you they needed was confusion.
You've been drawing for years, joined many different art courses and took many drawing classes, participated in many events but getting an offer to have some of your work showcased in a big, professional and well-known gallery for one of their events was something new—a step closer to achieving your dream.
Of course, you didn't hesitate and swiftly agreed to the offer.
It's only when it came time to choose your best work you got a tad uncertain about which paintings to pick.
You decided to go for one landscape drawing, one abstract and one portrait.
Choosing a landscape and abstract was easy, you simply chose your most recent work, a work which, by chance, was seen by her classmates and some teachers and received tons of compliments.
Choosing a portrait was a bit harder though—there was just so much diversity between your models you'd feel bad choosing one out of many other, just as beautiful, ones.
You dig through the canvases in an attempt to find a perfect one when your hands suddenly brush against the beige fabric pulled over one of the canvases, hiding it from view.
A drop of cold sweat rolls down your neck as you uncover the familiar painting. It's still the same as you left it a year ago.
When your dreams stopped you felt as if you lost a part of yourself. Being unable to face the painting you worked so hard on, you ended up covering it up and leaving it to collect dust in the pile of canvases.
Even now when you looked at it, a part of you feels like sinking but the feeling of dread is easily outshined with the feeling of nostalgia and warmth.
you decided which portrait to bring to the event.
More people have visited the event than you had originally planned, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Almost. All the praise you got made up for it.
You would be lying if you said you didn't like to be praised. You loved the words of affirmation, to hear someone from a higher level acknowledge her efforts and make sure you're on the right track.
You were silently lurking in the crowd the entire day, starting conversations when you'd get the chance, giving speeches about her art.
You talked and talked, over and over again, repeating what you've already said over twenty times by now and every group so far would listen carefully. Seeing them genuinely interested in your work made it all worthwhile.
Soon enough, night fell and people started leaving one by one, saying their goodbyes. It's a shame that the day has come to an end but if you're lucky maybe you will get more chances like this in the near future.
"nazoki-san!" One of the gallerys workers approaches you, "Would you mind picking up your work? I still have some guests to see off."
"Alright! Thank you so much again!" You bow down your head before you make your way to the hall where your work has been showcased up until now. It was a part of their agreement that when the event is over you'll get to bring your paintings back home.
When you step foot into the room, however, you find you weren't not alone. Almost like a deja-vu, in front of her stands a familiar brown haired person with their back turned towards you, in his hand, he held a book, it seemed like he was looking for some inspiration.
Your heart sinks.
Immediately, you stop in your tracks.
How?
Blood in your veins freezes as the cold sweat starts dripping down your face. It can't be…could it?
"E-excuse me-e—" you tried to speak up but your voice breaks in the most embarrassing way possible.
The person twitches in surprise, turning around with a startled expression on their face and it's the same damn expression you saw that day when you first grabbed their hand. you swear it is. It has to.
The person points an index finger to himself, tilting his head to the side, "Me?" as soon as you heard that voice, you knew damn well it was.
For a short moment their eyes lock. It's the same chocolate colored eyes holding the same lonesome warmth and oh you want to rush towards them at full speed and tackle them to the ground but youi calm yourself down and continues to talk, "We're closing."
Your voice comes off stronger and steadier this time but the hint of nervousness can still be distinguished.
"Oh… I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."
So much happened today. You talked a lot, you walked a lot and on top of that you woke up early with only three hours of sleep the night prior, perhaps you're just imagining things. Maybe you're daydreaming again. But his voice sounds so real and you can see them so vividly even with you vision blurry from exhaustion.
There is so much you wanted to know, how, why, what, when, huh?? you heard stories about people's dreams coming true, about how some met people in their dreams but you never imagined anything so…extraordinary happening to you. But here you were with so many questions lingering in your head and so little time so you decided fuck it no matter what happens this time, no matter what kind of story your faith is writing, whatever happens in this timeline you weren't letting them go again.
The chocolate haired person gives you a warm smile, although, It looked a bit forced, you didn't say anything as he turns back to glance at the painting in front of them one last time.
"I was just thinking about how this painting looks a lot like me."
Your knees buckle up underneath you.
Weak .
you felt weak.
but you couldn't even focus on that, all you could focus on was how the person you've been longing for was indeed right in front of you.
and with that, the interlude halts.
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₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.
2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you. reblogs and likes are appreciated.
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krushedstars · 2 days
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PAWNS IN THE COSMOS
‧₊˚ ┊synopsis ... in a world where your soulmate is chosen by you, you wanted to be sure you would be happy as you delve into the complex webs of love.
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‧₊˚ ┊fandom ... jujutsu kaisen. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ ft. ... geto x gn!reader, gojo x gn!reader. ‧₊˚ ┊au! ... soulmates, college. ‧₊˚ ┊genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ content ... fluff, angst. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ word count ... 5.1k. ‧₊˚ ┊cole's note ... yes, the uni bits were based on my personal experience, ignore that and enjoy ur reading ♡
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How is a person defined?
Of course we can delve into personality tangents and unique character traits that only each of us possesses in a perfect combination of stars and magic. However, this alone is not enough. A person is created by more than mere looks and personality; there are dreams, each person's own ways, unique hearts that shine with specific colors conceived by each thought, each action, each desire.
A single personality is not enough to define a person – and all the gods knew this. And as such, a new system was created.
Numbers.
What else to define a person than the infinity of numbers that made up the universe?
All human beings were born marked with simple numbers that dictated their souls; from zero to infinity, passing through the infinities of decimals that each one had for having managed to acquire a body in that new world.
Stuck on the back of their necks, hidden by occasional hair and various clothes, the numbers became something sacred in that society; not only was it something that defined a person, that made them unique, but they were also the main factor in relationships and connections. The thing is, bored with the eternity of cosmic lives, the gods liked to create small games that helped them in the static passage of time – and what more exciting than guiding the various lost souls to their better half?
A soulmate was something primordial.
Created long before the first star was born, soulmates roamed the world hand in hand, their stardust unique to each pair created by the various gods. They were essences without bodies, united only by cosmic dust that insisted on cradling them in the eternities of time and space in the universe. However, just star and cosmic dust was something monotonous, without any substance of its own, without a body of its own that made everything much easier to see, to be marveled at.
Thus, the first humans were created.
A connection that was only felt by the universe, beautified by the stars and constellations that they made their homes, was now something tangible, something that could be seen, something that could be admired. And, since then, relationships began to blossom in the world according to the seasons, making all the love that was felt to be the cause of all the misfortunes and happiness in the world.
Every year, small letters with a specific number and initials appeared on the bedside tables of thousands of people, a hint to eternal happiness appearing in black tones on a white background.
For years, humans followed their cards, creating happy and fulfilled lives for centuries, never once contesting the appearance of neither their cards nor their veracity; the gods commanded, the humans followed.
“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.”
“What?”
Gojo placed his apple juice on the table and looked at his friend, intrigued by the numbers he recited so naturally.
“It’s their number.”
“Their?” Gojo raised an eyebrow and let out a small pretentious smile, knowing perfectly well who Geto was talking about.
“Their. I saw it yesterday when they got off the bus. It was very brief, but I'm sure that was the number.”
“And what do you intend to do with this life-changing information?”
Geto looked at Gojo for the first time since they sat at the bar table. A smile played on the brunette's lips, his dark eyes shining with the possibilities that danced in his mind.
He leaned forward, his chest almost touching the plate with his sandwich and, in a whisper too low for such a noisy space, Geto spoke in a soft and quite convinced voice.
“Write down this number and compare it to the one on my card.”
“Have you received your card yet?”
Gojo's question came out automatically, a trace of nervousness clinging to the various syllables, his blue eyes widening behind his sunglasses.
“Not yet,” Geto sighed and resumed his starting position, playing with some loose crumbs from his sandwich. “But I believe it’s coming soon. I don’t know how to explain it, but every time I look at them…”
The words that were going to come out of Geto died in his mouth without having a chance to see the light of day. Taken by a mystical force, a chance written by the cosmos, Geto raised his face at the exact moment you entered the bar.
You looked beautiful that day.
Favored by the beauty of that day, the sun's rays painted your smile golden; your eyes shone with the light of new experiences, your words sounding as delicate as the breeze that day.
You entered the bar without any worries, your laugh filling the space with the delicacy of its sound. You were with your group of friends, looking for a free table in that crowded bar for you to have lunch before your afternoon class. Your eyes scanned the compartment with some hope, a smile lingering on your lips after a joke from your best friend.
And then you noticed. In all that confusion, oblivious to your friends' conversations, too focused on finding a place to sit, you saw Geto looking at you. Static, without any thought beyond his eyes, without any reaction when you approached him, your smile expanding with each step you took.
“Hello,” you stopped behind Gojo, one of your hands resting on his chair as your eyes jumped from Geto to Gojo. “Ready for the test?”
Gojo put his hands on his head, ruffling some of his silky hair as he let out a small growl, which made you laugh. And what a laugh. What a melody sung by your lips that seemed to fill the entire bar, drowning out every sound that appeared there.
“I spent the night studying, but I couldn’t memorize anything,” Gojo's outburst was accompanied by a tired sigh, his body leaning back against the chair, making you let go of it. “I don’t think even a miracle could save me.”
“Think of it like this,” you walked to the side of the table, Geto and Gojo on your sides, your group of friends in front of you waiting for you. “It’s about the Bible. Jesus will be with you.”
Gojo gave you a small frown and picked up his apple juice again, giving Geto a little kick under the table.
“And you? Are you ready?” Geto spoke finally, holding his sandwich and taking a small bite as he waited for your response.
“What helps me is being able to take the Bible with me,” you confessed between smiles and winks. “But I’m confident. Our presentation actually went well.”
“The teacher liked it,” Geto set down his sandwich and looked at you. “I think we even make a good team.”
“And I wouldn’t give anything for you two,” you smiled as you gently ruffled Gojo’s hair. “Well, I'm going now. See you later.”
Geto followed you with his gaze out of the bar, the way your body walked excitedly towards your friends, the way your smile didn't leave your lips for a single second.
“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.” Geto repeated it again under his breath, his eyes still fixed on the bar door.
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“I can’t believe the teacher gave us more work,” Geto grunted, storming into his room. “Where do you want to start?”
He placed his Bible on the desk, throwing his backpack onto the bed. Gojo followed in his footsteps, throwing the book on the bed and placing the backpack on the floor, opening it immediately with a sigh.
“We can start with the document the teacher gave us…” Gojo’s voice was full of doubts and uncertainties, his hands frantically searching his backpack for his notebook. “We can read it and go from there.”
Geto didn't say anything.
Sitting down at the desk, the brunette turned on his computer and waited a few moments until his desktop began to glow in shades of blue and silver. “You start with the document and I’ll look for which books we need to study.”
Gojo nodded and, after making himself comfortable on his best friend's bed, he began to dive into the waves of knowledge in the document, reading and rereading concepts and terms, looking for something in the various lines of ink that could help him in his new work.
Geto, in turn, opened the web page, typing a few words before spending minutes opening and closing tabs, desperately looking for help. Beside him, the Bible was open, several sheets of papers and memory aids reminding Geto which books he needed to highlight and look deeper into.
Shrouded in stories and theories, the two friends didn't notice as the hours passed; Too focused on their work, taking some notes and highlighting the most important thing, Geto and Gojo disconnected from the outside world, believing that, the sooner they finished that work, the sooner they would free themselves from the academic responsibilities that gave them so many headaches.
The sun was slowly setting.
From Geto's bedroom window, the various street lamps began to shine with the certainty that a long night was approaching; cars and people retired to their homes at the end of a long day of work and in the sky, between the soft clouds and the dark blue expanse, several stars made their way to the earth, telling in their death endless stories of past memories and lives lived.
Geto stretched out in his chair. Putting down the computer mouse for a moment and looking away from the screen for the first time since he got home, Geto felt tired. Totally devastated by a complicated day in his life: the Classical Texts exam had gone wrong, no matter how many prayers were in the Bible, he knew that his grade would go down; the teacher, at the end of the exam, gave his students one last assignment in a week full of exams and presentations; and, to end the last ray of hope in Geto, that day had been another day in which he was unable to do anything other than admire you.
It had been almost two years, but Geto had simply withdrawn into a bubble of shyness that prevented him from functioning decently in front of you. He didn't understand why, but you had a power over him; like a spell, an enchantment that prevented him from functioning normally in your presence. It all happened so fast, he didn't even remember the first time he succumbed to your charms, but, once consumed by your unique, cosmic essence, he found himself trapped in a web of emotions that prevented him from leaving.
But now was not the time to dwell on you. Now Geto had an obligation to fulfill and, as much as he wanted to ignore it, he knew that his responsibility as a student had to be pleased.
“Do you want to order food?”
Gojo straightened up in bed, putting his pencil behind his ear, adjusting his sunglasses on his head. “I’m not very hungry…”
“But we need to eat,” Geto stood up with a small grunt, walking away from the desk and grabbing his cell phone. “I'm going to order some food and I'll take the opportunity to call Shoko to ask her for the texts for tomorrow.”
Gojo didn't answer him.
With tired eyes and a yawn trapped in his mouth, Gojo saw his best friend leaving the room, making the room plunge into serene silence.
Tired of studying, feeling a strong pain in his back, Gojo fell onto the bed, taking out his cell phone and starting to explore the digital world while waiting for Geto to return.
Gojo was freely lost among images and videos, reading loose sentences without any context, finding a bit of tranquility in the mess of others; Gojo's slender fingers moved across the screen with ease, clicking on images and links, allowing him to sink into a little peace before returning to work.
But no matter how involved he was in the digital world, that didn't stop Gojo from listening.
It was a faint, low sound, like the turning of a page; it was brief, lasting only a second, something too small to be noticed; but Gojo noticed, Gojo realized that something had happened, and when he sat back down on the bed and looked at Geto's desk, he saw it.
A small, white card rested gently on the wooden surface. It was thin, almost invisible from Gojo's point of view, but those dark letters, that black that adorned the card left no room for doubt: Geto had just received his card.
Gojo leaned forward, looking closely at the initials and numbers written on the card.
There was silence.
A dark silence took over Geto's room, leaning into every corner, refusing to leave through the door that Geto had left open. The shadows in the room seemed thicker at that moment, gaining a bit of dimension when seen from the corner of Gojo's eye; it seemed like they were watching him, trying to keep Gojo's actions in their dark corners, silently judging everything Gojo did, everything he thought.
But Gojo continued to look at the card, memorizing the initials and numbers, repeating them in his mind over and over again. Until he heard Geto's voice approaching the room and he let the shadows keep the secret he had just made.
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Geto was at the bus stop patiently waiting. Letting the sun warm him through the bus stop window, Geto faced the road with a smile on his lips.
Seeing students and teachers walking up and down the street, hearing the happy birdsong and feeling the cool breeze of the day on his face, Geto couldn't be happier at that moment. That day, it seemed as if the whole world had gained a new color, a new meaning, as if all the stars that made up the universe had arranged themselves especially to link Geto's path.
He was certain that in that day nothing would destroy his enthusiasm. Not when he held tightly to a small white card and waited patiently for a bus to arrive, for you to arrive.
It had been mere minutes since Geto arrived at the stop to see your bus arriving punctually at your building. Keeping all the enthusiasm he was feeling in a small box inside his heart, Geto approached you when you got off the platform, ready for another day of classes.
“Good morning!”
“Oh, good morning, Geto,” your smile painted constellations, illuminating the entire universe with a simple curve of affection and delicacy. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.”
You stopped walking and looked seriously at your classmate. Confused by why those numbers were recited so passionately, you waited for Geto to continue his reasoning. Looking closely at Geto, you couldn't help but let out a small smile; there was something about his childish enthusiasm, his cosmic joy that made you feel at least the slightest bit comfortable.
“It’s your number, isn’t it?”
“And how do you know my number?” your smile had taken on a playful tone, not realizing where that conversation would lead you, or why he was having it with you at that moment. As such, and as always, you just waited.
“Because they gave me that number yesterday.”
Geto handed you the small card he kept in his hand. Curious about his words, you looked at that white piece of paper, seeing your number and initials in dark tones.
Y/N 83220674,193
You remained silent for a moment while you assimilated all that information.
In reality, you hadn't received your card yet, but you didn't care. In so many years of life, you have never had the need to get together with someone, to let the gods guide your destiny with a mere card; but that didn't mean you weren't expecting it. You were never a romantic by nature, avoiding cliché films and closing the books when the couple began to express their eternal love for each other; but that didn't mean you didn't want that magic for yourself.
The reality is that throughout your life you have had to worry about something more than the triviality that was love. From friendships to school, your entire life was made up of obstacles that prevented you from delving into the complex webs of romantic relationships that could have been.
But there it was. A card. Your number. Your initials. There was no denying it – Geto’s soulmate was you.
Still trapped in those complex numbers and the beautiful initials carved into the white of the card, your mind began to wander to a future that could exist, leaving you speechless, completely surrendered to the surprise of the event.
“You seem excited about that idea,” not knowing how to respond, not knowing how to act after that revelation, you tried to focus your attention on Geto, starting to walk into the building with your colleague always by your side.
“Just happy for the confirmation.”
“Confirmation?” You looked at Geto confused and he just smiled before opening the door to the building for you.
“I always knew it was you.”
You gave a small laugh that gently echoed through the interior of the building. “What made you so sure?”
“That’s what I felt.” Geto let a sigh escape him, his lips expanding more and more into the victorious smile he wore. “Since the first day I saw you.”
You looked curiously at Geto as you climbed the stairs to the second floor.
“I can't explain it to you, but from the first day I saw you, I felt something inside me change. It's hard to explain, but it's as if the forces of the universe were pulling me towards you. Many times, without meaning to, I was already looking at you and wondering how I could talk to you.”
Geto's words traveled seamlessly to your ears, collecting all the celestial magic they could grab along the way. Geto's confession appeared wrapped in the stardust of the sky that sheltered you, leaving you to smile shyly at your colleague's frankness.
Would it be true? All the words Geto said seemed too whimsical to be real, his honesty appearing like a small butterfly on warmer days, flapping its wings and simplicity with the lightness of someone who didn't care about what he said.
“Very well,” you said finally, opening the door to the classroom and giving Geto space to enter. “And what do you intend to do with this new information?”
“For starters,” smiled Geto, leaning against one of the desks, the one where you always sat, and putting his hands in his pants pockets, “I’m going to ask you out on a date.”
“What if I say no?”
You sat in your seat, placing your backpack on the table and looking at Geto with amusement.
“I will invite you until you say yes.”
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You wouldn't go as far as to say you were in love, but the truth was you felt something.
You would never think that agreeing to go out with Geto would bring you the avalanche of feelings that you started to feel. There was something about him. Something that moved you, that managed to reach your core and comfort your heart as if it were a blanket. You couldn't explain what it was, you couldn't explain what it was like, you just felt it. And it was something so unique and unusual that it consumed you every time you were with Geto.
Since the day you agreed to go out with him, your whole world seemed to have changed.
“Explain something to me,” Geto stretched as he sat in the chair. Leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, he stared at you, eyes so bright and passionate that he made you feel important.
“What?”
“What do I need to do so I can be yours?”
You choked on the water. The words that Geto said hadn't crossed your mind, taking you by surprise.
You coughed once, twice, three times, placed the glass of water on the table and looked at Geto, your eyes still shining with the tears that had formed seconds ago.
“What?”
“I just want to know,” his smile was infectious. Whenever Geto looked at you, he smiled, a smile that spread across his face and made him more beautiful, more brilliant, as if that curve of his lips were the only detail about him. “We have already gone on several dates. We already know each other well. What is missing?"
You stared at Geto.
In fact, you felt something every time you were with Geto, your heart growing warmer with each moment shared with him. But that something was indescribable, you couldn't understand the nature of that something. What was it? How had it come about? Why did it torment you so much every time you were with Geto?
Yes. You could ignore it. Just take yourself in the comfort of that feeling, and allow yourself to enjoy a little of the tranquility that that feeling offered you. But there was something about that feeling, there was something that made you feel nervous. Maybe it was because you were happy and it had been years since you last felt so carefree and light; maybe it was because you couldn't explain what you felt, the lack of words and descriptions leaving you delirious. You didn't know exactly what it was. You just knew you weren't ready.
“I'm waiting,” you let out a small smile, looking at the water in the glass and thinking deeply about that something attacking your heart. What was that?
“For a formal request?” Geto let out a small laugh, so beautiful and melodious that it made the authenticity of your smile change tones, the small line becoming more real with that laugh. “I can kneel here right now and ask you to be yours.”
“No,” now it was you who laughed, holding Geto's hands when he made a move to get up. “Don’t you dare!”
“So what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give you anything.”
“My card.”
You whispered your confession a little nervously, letting your voice get lost in the university bar.
Geto looked at you, the smile that beautified him so much gently fading as he thought and repeated your words in his mind. Your card. Your card? Why were you waiting for something you already knew? What did you want to find in your white piece? Why was confirming a number so important to you? Didn't you feel your connection? Didn't you feel how your souls were interconnected for generations and eras, your essence existing on the same star before inhabiting the human bodies that held you back from expressing your true love?
“Why?”
Geto's voice had changed tone. Before playful, sprinkled with passion and affection, it was now serious, monotonous, without any feeling attached to the intonation of the syllables.
“Just…” you continued to stare at the glass of water, too embarrassed by your whim, thinking that your request was a betrayal for Geto. “I just want to be sure.”
Geto looked at you without showing any emotion. His bright eyes were now opaque, focused on your figure, studying your posture; his lips were in a straight line, too tense from the conversation to be able to express a mere smile.
Finally, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and putting his hands in his coat pockets.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll wait.”
Geto's words gently lifted your chin, finally looking at him, seeing a small, shy smile on his lips, filled with a small sadness, wrapped in understanding.
“Tell me your number.”
“Sixty-nine point zero, one, six, zero.”
“…six, zero,” Geto’s number was now saved on your cell phone. You were smiling, believing that that exchange of numbers could be the last drop to fill the glass of your doubts – it had to be him, you felt it.
Geto got up from his chair, smiling and offering you his hand.
You put your cell phone away and held Geto's hand, feeling his warm, thin fingers intertwine with yours, gently pulling you out of the bar and taking you through the city's flowery paths to your house.
Saying goodbye with a kiss on your forehead, Geto watched you enter your home, the smile he still wore being painted with love and complete devotion – how he loved you.
You sighed when you entered the house. You were tired. Classes were becoming increasingly demanding and, with the semester almost over, the pressure only increased.
You placed your hands on your shoulders and pressed down hard as you walked to your room. Your back was burning, a fog of anxiety was clouding your mind, your feet were asking for a moment of rest.
You threw yourself onto the bed, leaving your backpack at the bedroom door. You were exhausted, you couldn't even open your eyes. Ready to get some sleep before studying, you took your cell phone out of your pants pocket and placed it on the bedside table next to the white card.
The white card.
As if pinching you with electricity, the card woke you up to reality. You quickly sat down on the bed, holding that piece of paper in your hands. Finally the confirmation, finally the key to your happiness.
S.G.
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You abruptly pulled Gojo into an empty room. After closing the door with some force, you faced your friend who looked at you confused and a little worried.
“What…”
“You should have told me.”
You cut Gojo's words without any difficulty, throwing your card at Gojo, he fumbling to catch the lightness of the paper.
You were upset, completely furious. Your heart pounded with the knowledge of that betrayal, forcing you to look at Gojo with angry eyes and trembling lips.
“What happe…”
“Look at the card,” you didn’t want to shout at Gojo, it wasn’t in your nature to speak loudly to other people, but at that moment, totally consumed by all the emotions that arose in your heart, you couldn’t control your tone of voice, your words coming out louder than intended. “Look at the card and explain to me why you didn’t tell me!”
Gojo's blue eyes looked at you nervously, the glow that embellished them giving them a fear that was completely unknown to him. It took a while. He was still assimilating your words, repeating them in his head, trying to understand what you specifically meant. But, when all the dots connected, when your anger became justifiable and the card essential, Gojo quickly looked at the card, letting out a small curse when he saw the initials and numbers that adorned the white piece of paper.
S.G. 2430.1872
“I can explain…”
“I don't believe it. It is really you! You switched the cards!”
You let out a fake laugh, turning your body to face the door in an attempt to calm down. After taking a deep breath once, twice, three times, you looked back at Gojo, who now had a look of determination that didn't match your conversation.
“He loves you.”
“He’s not my soulmate,” you couldn’t explain, but your eyes started to water. Anger? Despair? Betrayal? What emotion did you seek from the turbulent sea that shook your heart to make you want to cry?
“That doesn’t invalidate the fact that he loves you.”
You shook your head, your lips forming a fake, angry smile, painted with the turmoil that existed in your heart. “You know perfectly well it does.”
“Listen,” Gojo approached you, the card held in one of his hands, his sunglasses almost falling off his head. “You like him. It's noticeable! The way you look at him, the way you shine when you're with him. You…"
“No!” you shouted without realizing it, snatching the card from Gojo's hand and waving it in front of his eyes. “You are my soulmate. It's you I have to stay with. You are the one I have to love.”
“No. No! No!” now Gojo was also shouting, desperate to make himself heard, wanting to explain himself at all costs. “You don’t have to keep yours…”
“You know perfectly well what happens to those who don’t stay with their soulmate.” Sadness. Hurt. Suffering. Grief. Years of pure despair. Years of nothing but anguish. “Do you really want him to be like that? Consumed by the negativity of the universe?”
“How,” Gojo laughed, a little insane with your argument, taking his hands to his head and taking off the glasses that made him feel weird. “How is he going to be unhappy if he has loved you since the first day you met?”
“Feelings come and go,” your tone returned to normal, your gaze now trapping Gojo in a box with no escape, your conversation turning from despair to frustration. “He wouldn’t be happy with me.”
Gojo looked at you furious with your deaf ears. You looked at Gojo irritated by his empty words.
The door opened.
Geto entered.
“I heard screams… Is everything okay?”
Geto's eyes jumped from you to Gojo. He was confused, he didn't understand why you were alone in an empty room screaming. On the other side of the door, Geto hadn't been able to understand the nature of your argument, but now looking at you, he knew it was something serious.
“Tell him.” Your eyes finally got tired, the first tear sliding easily down your face, taking with it a bit of the sadness of reality. “Tell him, Gojo.”
“Tell me what?”
Now Geto started to get nervous. What had happened between the two of you to create such a tense atmosphere? How did the two of you, the ones who were always joking with each other, the ones who knew nothing more than laughter and smiles, how did the two of you end up screaming and crying?
“Tell him how I will never be happy with him because I am destined to love you.”
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scoonsalicious · 3 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 5
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content - Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. (unprotected PIV), violence, our girl REALLY not being her best self :(
Word Count: 659
Previously On...: A college boy approached you at a bar, asking for your number. You offered him an... alternative.
A/N: The Spiral begins in earnest! And yeah, he's like 14 years younger than she is. 😖 Oh wow! I almost made it on time!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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Moments later, Bad Decision was throwing you up against the brick wall in the alley behind the bar. His kisses were sloppy, lacking the skill and finesse to which you had become accustomed, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he looked enough like Bucky… if you squinted really, really hard. 
“My name’s Brandon,” he huffed, pulling back from a slobbery kiss with too much tongue. “I don’t care,” you said, reaching down into his boardshorts. He was already hard as you pulled him out, giving him a few strokes before hiking up your skirt and tugging aside the gusset of your panties. You guided him to your entrance, and within seconds he was rutting into you with abandon. He wasn’t as big as Bucky, not even close. “God, you’re so tight,” he moaned as he thrusted, leaning in to kiss you again.
“Don’t talk.” It felt good, but it wasn’t getting you where you needed to go. You hiked a leg over his hip, hoping to get him deeper, but it seemed like the spot inside you that had you seeing fireworks was a spot that only Bucky could reach. You weren’t sure if it was because of his size, or because Bucky had come to know your body so well, but Bad Decision just didn’t have what it took.
“Fucks’ sake,” you grumbled as you shoved a hand down your skirt to work your clit. Were you going to have to do everything yourself? Why were men just so disappointing?
You closed your eyes and threw your head back, roughly bouncing it against the rough brick. You imagined an entirely different body pushing into you, different arms holding you up, one cold metal, one warm flesh as they dug bruises into your skin. It was working. You were getting close.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you moaned. Bad Decision faltered in his motions.
“What?” he asked. “Who the hell’s Bucky?”
Shit. “I didn’t say ‘Bucky,’” you lied. “I said ‘fuck me.’ I want you to fuck me like you mean it.” You weren’t sure if Bad Decision bought it, but his thrusting resumed with vigor, and soon you were hurtling over the edge in your orgasm. 
“I’m gonna cum,” Bad Decision moaned. Fuck. He wasn’t wearing a condom. 
“Pull out,” you demanded.
“What? I–”
You shoved at his chest. “I said pull out! I’m not letting you cum inside of me.”
You felt him slip free and you moved to put space between your bodies. Bad Decision stood there, cock standing free and ridiculous in the sea breeze, and looked at you expectantly.
“What?” you asked as you readjusted your clothing.
“Aren’t you gonna… you know? Take care of it?” He nodded down toward his lackluster cock. “I didn’t finish.”
You frowned. “That’s not my problem.”
Bad Decision’s features shifted into something angry. “What the fuck?” He grabbed your arm and yanked you toward him. “I got you off, return the fucking favor!” 
You wrenched your arm free from his grasp. “I got myself off,” you told him. “That–” you pointed to his cock, “was practically useless.”
Bad Decision’s face grew red. “You fucking bitch!” He grabbed your arm again, tighter this time. “You think you can be a little cocktease?! You’re gonna finish what you started!”
“Fine,” you conceded, and when he let you go, you reached down and grabbed his shaft. With every ounce of strength you possessed, you yanked on his dick, and you twisted. 
Bad Decision let out an agonizing wail as his knees buckled beneath him, his hands coming up to cover his crotch. “You fucking cunt!” he moaned as he assumed the fetal position on the concrete of the alley floor. “You’re gonna fucking pay for that!”
“Sure I will,” you muttered as you walked off, leaving him writing in pain. You were disgusted with yourself, yet felt oddly empowered. You wondered if Bucky had felt the same when he’d used you.
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wu-sisyphus-gang · 2 days
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Weiss: We need to get you something casual to wear. Even I don't just have dresses. I have skirts, and jeans and yoga pants.
Jaune: What's wrong with this shirt? It's cotton. It's comfortable.
Weiss: You don't have any other shoes just those heavy boots.
Jaune: What's wrong with my boots? They're comfortable and I know if I have to I can crush somebody's skull with them.
Weiss: Besides the fact they are on my new coffee table? Get some slippers, sandals, or tennis shoes and I'll let the shirt and pants go.
Jaune: I have jeans...
Weiss: One pair? I've seen your closet. Face it. You've gone all hunter with no relaxation.
Jaune: I sleep shirtless in gym shorts. Are you complaining about that? It's not typically something a loving wife tells their husband. 'Put on more clothes.'
Weiss: You also only have one pair of gym shorts. You're so military it would make a Spartan cringe. It's not like you don't have the money for clothes.
Jaune: I've been busy.
Weiss: But now you're not.
Ruby: Ooh! We should dress him up!
Jaune: What am I? A doll?
Weiss: It's settled then.
Jaune: Settled how? Since when are we putting things to a vote. That's not allowed. Everyone has to be onboard.
Ruby: Get democratized.
Weiss: What happened to your onesie? At least you had that. At least it existed even if I am glad you just sleep in gym shorts.
Ruby: Your chest is nice to sleep on. How is it soft and hard at the same time? But we aren't hoofing it around anima anymore and you're not clawing your way back to Vale. Let us dress you up.
Jaune: Again like a doll?
Ruby: Yeah. But you're our doll. Please? For me?
Jaune: *makes the mistake of looking into her eyes, gets up with a sigh*
Weiss: We don't mean right this minute. Good gods.
Jaune: *sits back down* You know where to find me.
Weiss: You have to teach me how to do that Ruby.
Jaune: You both do that to me. You looked at me, folded your arms, and told me to get a psychiatrist and I did.
Weiss: True. But there’s something special about the way Ruby says ‘please? For me?’ Isn’t there? She does it to me too. She’s like ‘I know you like this color of paint for the bedroom but I like this one. Won’t you agree to it? For me?
Ruby: *has this look of 'who? Me? I'm not familiar*
Jaune: As far as I’m concerned you both cheat hard and ruthlessly. How often do you walk around singing in the kitchen while you’re making coffee? You cheat. You both do. You both do it as much as you can get away with and that’s quite a lot. And what am I supposed to do? I’ve got nothing. I have neither defense or offense.
Weiss: How is doing things you love cheating? I happen to sing while I’m doing chores. That’s for me. If you happen to like it, then that is on you. I am talking about how Ruby actively uses her charms to get us both to do what she wants.
Jaune: And I’m just saying you’re not innocent. As soon as you found out it turns me on when you sing you started singing at me all the time.
Weiss: Okay. I did do that.
Jaune: Bangarang. And everyone in this house knows that Ruby just looks up at you with those big silver eyes and asks nicely and gets her wishes granted. Everyone knows that. Especially Ruby. She knows we can’t help ourselves and she knows that we know that she knows. But there’s nothing to be done. What am I going to do to get what I want?
Weiss: You don’t want anything though. You don’t really care what color the annex office gets painted. You hardly care what you eat for dinner. You could probably eat the same thing every day without complaint.
Jaune: That’s exactly what I used to do at Beacon until you moved in with me. I ate the same thing every single day. And you know what? I liked it.
Weiss: You’re schizophrenic. You have to stop with these mentally unwell behaviors. That’s a part of fighting back against your illness. It’s not enough to just take the meds.
Ruby: Yeah, that’s a sign of mental unwellness… You should eat different things…
Jaune: Exactly how long term am I supposed to be thinking here?
Weiss: *Smacks his chest gently with the back of her hand*
Ruby: *much less flirtatiously and aggressively hits the inside of his thigh*
Jaune: And you both abuse me.
Weiss: Oh shut up.
Ruby: Big baby.
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sourholland · 2 days
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based off of taylor swift’s song style
a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵
summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.
warnings → strong language, nsfw content - oral sex
word count → 3.4k
reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chapter 4
“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”
Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.
“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”
With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.
“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.
“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”
Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent. 
Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.
Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another. 
“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”
“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.
“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”
“You’re both insufferable!” 
Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit a solid eight inches and you nearly wheezed the word out, tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.
“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.
“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again. 
⋆------------⋆
Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.
Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.
“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”
“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”
“Don’t be sorry, be better.”
You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints. 
Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.
Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays. 
He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.
Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.
Joe: Text me when you’re done
Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??
This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.
Y/N: Joe omg
Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee
Y/N: Can you just call me later?
Joe: No
Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side. 
When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.
Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway
Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors
Y/N: You’re actually insane
Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???
Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked
Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home 
Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building 
Y/N: Go home, Joe :)
Joe: Please
Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.
Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?
Joe: Desperately
Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao
Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen
Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility. 
“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.
“Night, Carol!”
With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.
The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you. 
“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.
“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”
He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”
The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.
This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone. 
He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission. 
“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair. 
“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”
With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.
“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”
The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”
If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.
“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.
“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”
He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center. 
His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you. 
He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.
The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.
“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie. 
You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.
“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door. 
“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”
Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.
“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy. 
“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.
“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?” 
“Is that a yes or a no?”
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theblue6ook · 2 days
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A Mundane Day
Summary: Is it ever really mundane office life as Bruce Wayne’s assistant? Bruce saves Y/N’s brothers from suspension.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader
a/n: Hello, hello. I hope everyone enjoys this fic. If I forgot to add you to the tag list please let me know! Enjoy :) [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]
It was 3 pm. Bruce stretched, rising from his desk chair, with a groan. If he was lucky, he could take a nap before his night shift. Glancing at his desk, he sighed at the files there. A mix of his cases with Bane and Wayne Enterprise documents. He felt like groaning as he sorted them out and threw his case files into his briefcase. Pulling the Wayne Enterprise documents into a stack, he slipped a paperclip at the top to secure it.
It had been a relatively boring day. There weren't many meetings or executives to debate with, just lots of paperwork. Everyone was getting ready for the next quarter, and the files were coming in hot. Not to mention, he and Y/N hadn’t been the most comfortable around each other. After her broken engagement and falling asleep in each other's arms, it was like walking on eggshells. No one knew where the other stood, and Y/N had just become single. Bruce didn’t want to be that guy. So, they were lightly stepping around each other, waiting for the other to crack.
It sounds so immature or superficial to think about with everything else going on in his life. Paperwork, cases, and patrol, and here he is worrying about how to interact with a girl. How old is he, fifteen? But still, he couldn't help himself but think back to her body. How it molded against his, pressed chest to chest, with knees knocking. The sweats she wore still smell like her. It made him want to dunk himself in cold water. Tell himself to forget it. After what happened to Rachel, he knew he shouldn't. She barely made it away from him with her life, and she was lucky all she got was feargassed. Y/N deserved better than that.
Stepping out of his office and into Y/N's. She sat quietly at her desk with her blue light glasses tucked into her hair, knawing on a red pen. She was in intense focus. He silently handed her his stack of files, and she quietly mumbled a thank you, still focused on the work in front of her. Bruce moved to the coat rack to slip on his jacket with mild difficulty. Last night, he tried following one of Bane's freighter trucks. It had not gone well for him.
Finally, he shrugged the coat on in one motion, trying to minimize the pain as much as he could, while hoping to appear as normal as possible. Y/N glanced up at him as he prepared to leave, but once he shrugged his coat on, his button-down shirt slipped forward, and a bruise appeared bright and uncovered. 
The bruise was a bright, ugly purple that took up a large chunk of his collarbone and peck. Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, Bruce."
Bruce smiled lightly, playfully rolling his eyes. She used his first name. It never happened much unless she was either outstandingly pleased or uncomfortably serious. Bruce loved it and would take it either way, especially since it broke the silence. 
Y/N rounded the desk in a flash and took him by the collar. She pulled his face down to her level, trying to get a good view of the bruise. Bruce again rolled his eyes, trying to act like it was no big deal. Slowly, he worked to pull away, but she manhandled him, pulling him back down harder, popping the top button on his shirt. He tried to act oblivious, "Y/N, what are you doing? You know, if anyone else did this, it would be harassment." 
Y/N watched the bruise silently, with her brows furrowed. She looked over the top of his shoulder down to his peck. Without thinking ahead, she stuck out her hand and placed her cold palm on his warm chest. He tensed. At the temperature or her touch, she wasn't sure, but she smoothed her hand over the bruise. It was like ink had stained his skin. She looked up at him, frowning. He was closer than she thought, her nose almost hitting his chin. "What is this?"
“A bruise,” he stated plainly. Her eyebrow rose, and Bruce sighed, “I’ve been spelunking.”
“Spelunking?” she said quickly, “What is spelunking?”
“A rich man's sport.”
“Mr.Wayne-”
“It’s cave exploration,” he admitted, smirking down at her. 
“If people belonged in caves, they would be there,” she was interrupted by a harsh ring. Pausing, she looked up at him once more, “This conversation is not over. You stay there.”
He thought about making his exit, but she would no doubt follow him whether she was on the phone, or not.
She cleared her throat, “Bruce Wayne’s office this is Y/N… Yes, this is she… What? You’re kidding… Yes, yes I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can… Okay, thank you.”
Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. She moved on quickly, though, shoving files in her bag. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” Bruce raised his eyebrow at her, and she looked over her shoulder at him, “My brothers are in the principal's office. I have to go pick them up and talk to the office about it. If I leave now, I can catch the bus-”
"I can drive you-"
"That's really not necessary-"
"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. Come on." He walked out of their office with a swagger, as if she didn't just catch the bruise on his collarbone and she really had no choice but to follow him. 
"Didn't Alfred drop you off?" she called after him, "I don't want to bother him."
"No," he laughed, "I can drive myself, you know."
They took the elevator down to the garage, and in his own personal spot was a four-seat, scissor-door Gordan Murray. Y/N had only heard about this car. It was over two million dollars, in a sparkling black that reflected blue in the sun. Oh, she wanted to drive that car.
He looked behind him and flipped her door open, "You getting in?"
She didn't know what to do but laugh. Come on he mumbled grabbing her bag and slipping it in the back before she got in the car. He closed it behind her like a gentleman. The interior was a mix of black and white leather. The seats were peak comfort and she wondered if this was what heaven was like.
The car rode like a beauty and they sat in blissful silence for some time. She saw Bruce glancing at her every now and then, curiously. She finally said, “What’s up?”
Truth be told, he was observing her. He needed to see if he had crossed a line when he pulled her into his arms. All he wanted to do was blurt out did I make you uncomfortable? Would you do it again? But everything in his head told him it would only lead to disaster, so he opted to ask a different question. “Two brothers then?”
“Two brothers in trouble,” she replied. 
“Parents couldn’t help out?”
Y/N laughed dryly, “I’m their guardian and emergency contact when it comes to school. We keep Frank out of it.”
“Frank?”
She sighed and spoke cooly, “My dad.”
Her cool tone seemed annoyed by the topic, but Bruce could tell her body language was anxious. Nodding silently, he decided not to pry. Bruce wasn’t even sure where he stood with Y/N, he’d rather not test his luck asking questions about her family, so they rode once again in blissful silence.
Pulling into the school parking lot, Bruce pulled Y/N’s hand away from the door handle and moved out of the car to open the door for her. He had another pleasant memory of his mother, be a gentleman, Brucie, pop into his head. It had become second nature to him now. As Y/N stepped out of the car, she noticed Bruce stepped with her toward the school. Turning to him, she said, “You don’t have to come with me.”
“I drove you here,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Honestly, I’m kind of in it now.” 
Y/N huffed, turning to reluctantly walk inside, and Bruce followed after her. Y/N knew if she really pushed, he would have stayed by the car, but she didn’t even feel like arguing. She had enough on her mind. Fighting, she thought, I’m gonna kill them. Buzzing into the office, she turned quickly to him, pointing at one of the chairs sat in the office lobby, “You can sit there.” 
“Whatever you want. I’m here for moral support,” Bruce replied as he plopped into one of the plastic, cushioned seats.
Liar, Y/N thought as she approached the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, an older woman with a shorter, choppy haircut, had given Y/N the basic rundown of what happened, but it felt like a few details were missing. Some boys were arguing over an article with Carl, and it caused a little tiff between them when Lucas got involved, and that’s when the… physical violence started, she had relayed to Y/N. What article? Why did Lucas get involved? Who was Carl fighting with? It wasn’t making sense. 
“You can follow me,” she said. She moved behind the desk to lead her over to the principal's office, but not before glancing over at Bruce Wayne and looking back towards Y/N with a curious look. Y/N mumbled, confused, “After you.”
Bruce had sat nice and close to the entrance of the principal's office. He wanted to be in range if Y/N needed anything. Not that she would, but just in case. God, what is wrong with him?
“Why would you fight him?” she scolded, sharply.
He could hear her brother try to defend himself, “He needed help!”
So, that must be Lucas.
“He needs mental help,” she teased back. “Seriously, you’re already on your third strike. What’s going on?”
“They were talking shit about you,” Bruce could hear who he could only assume was Carl mumble. That’s my cue.
It seemed as if Bruce had manifested in the doorway, “What’d they said about your sister?”
“What are you doing in here?!” she bellowed at him. Bruce took in the situation. Y/N was squatted in front of her brothers, who sat in similarly uncomfortable cheap chairs as they had in the lobby. She had her hands placed on their forearms, in a comforting manner. The oldest one, Lucas, looked like he was maturing well. He could see similarities between him and Y/N, but for the most part, he had his own individual look. His eyes were bordering on sunken in, and his cheek sported black and blue from his fight earlier. The second boy Y/N was with had to be Carl. He looked younger and impressionable. He clung to Y/N’s arm as if she hung the moon and sported a black eye and busted lip. Not only that, he was the spitting image of Y/N, but that wasn’t even the most shocking part. There at the desk was no one. No principal. Not a single person. 
“Where is your principal?” he responded, unbothered.
Carl stared up at Bruce Wayne flabbergasted, “Holy shit.”
“Don’t swear,” Y/N said with clenched teeth. “You need to go sit in the lobby-”
“Sorry, I’m late, Ms.Y/L/N,” the principal stepped in. “I had to settle a matter with the other student.” Their principal, a stout man with a slick combover, looked over at Bruce Wayne with what seemed to be slight shock and then a knowing look. He cleared his throat and gestured to the two empty chairs. “Please sit down. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Wayne.”
“I’m sorry he really doesn’t need to be here-”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, interrupting her. Bruce looked over at Y/N and gestured his hand for her to sit first. She was embarrassed enough as it was, she really didn’t want him to hear about her dysfunctional family here, at her brothers' school, of all places. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N broke the silence, “Where are the other student's parents? I’d like to speak to them about this whole situation.”
“Well, that would be me, Ms.Y/L/N.” You have got to be fucking kidding me. Y/N looked over at Bruce in disbelief. Should the principal be handling situations his own son is involved in? She certainly didn’t think so. 
“Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate,” Bruce started, “to be handling your own child’s punishment? Regarding the situation, I mean.” Y/N gave him a sideways glance telling him it wasn’t his place to butt in, but he seemed to ignore it.
“Mr.Wayne,” the principal seemed to become defensive quickly, “I don’t suggest you put your nose into other people's business. These aren’t your kids.” Wasn’t he the one to tell Bruce to sit in? Y/N became visibly annoyed.
“As a donator,” Bruce smirked, and Y/N felt her ears perk up, “I just can’t support a school that handles issues in such a way. You understand?”
The principal’s face turned white, and every negative feeling Y/N had about Bruce Wayne, had dissipated. She could kiss him on the mouth.
Oh, he was good. He was so good at getting around people, getting exactly what he wanted to be. She felt a sigh of relief leave her chest, and Bruce placed a knowing hand on her knee. He was letting her know, I’ve got you. 
-
After the sour meeting with Carl and Lucas's principal, Y/N had suggested she and the boys take the bus home, despite her brother's protests. Bruce simply wouldn't allow it; he had other plans for the four of them. So here they all sat at Lucy’s Pancakes, a breakfast diner near the office. Y/N couldn’t even be bothered to be annoyed with the change in plans after Bruce’s stunt earlier. Her brothers might have been suspended if he hadn’t stepped in.
So she pleasantly ate her Choc-O-Chunk pancakes sitting across from Bruce Wayne, who looked like peak domesticity. He gave his full attention to her brothers, answering their every question and whim. With his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, she couldn't help but grin. It was all too sweet.
Her brothers threw all kinds of questions at him. 
How much was your car?
What do you even do?
How did you meet our sister?
How much money do you have?
How many girls have you dated?
“So you broke up Y/N and Russ huh? I’d call it an upgrade.”
Y/N swore her head had completely swiveled when Carl asked that question. Bruce looked up at her, unsure how he should respond. He had to remind himself it wasn't his place, but he found himself shaking his head anyway. Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Carl, what?! No-"
Bruce cleared his throat and slipped out of the booth, "I think I should go pay the check."
Y/N couldn't help but feel so embarrassed, watching Bruce head toward the cashier. "Okay, not funny, Carl. What are you talking about?"
“You didn’t see the article?” he asked.
"That asshole kid was saying you were Bruce Wayne's bitch," Lucas said angrily, "Carl headbutted him."
"The article in the Daily Planet,” Carl handed her his cracked iPhone. There on the screen was her and Bruce at her birthday dinner. Y/N was photographed with Bruce’s arm on her bare waist, fingertips dipping into her dress. He was whispering in her ear in the picture, and she blushed about as red as her dress, but other than that, she looked good. It was the headline that shocked her. Bruce Wayne Breaks Up Assistant’s Engagement By Lois Lane. She snatched the phone out of her brother's hand. 
Bruce Wayne’s assistant, Y/F/N Y/L/N, was seen at The Ocelot wearing her engagement ring, but where was it the next day? Bruce Wayne might be the answer. 
Sources say the bachelor's assistant was involved in a four-year engagement with her high school sweetheart, Danny Russell. After witnesses saw Wayne mingling with Y/L/N in the Ocelot, the assistant appeared ringless as she walked into Wayne Enterprises the next day. Sounds like a classic romance trope to me-
“This is bullshit,” Y/N read.
“I dunno,” Lucas spoke pointing to the picture. “You look pretty close there.”
She slapped his hand out of the way, “Bruce is not the reason I’m done with Russ-”
“Your sister was lucky to dump that cheater,” Bruce emerged again, placing a tip down on the table. 
Carl turned toward Y/N for confirmation. Once he realized it was true, his eyes turned cold, “I’ll burn his house down.”
“He couldn’t afford a house and even if he could it’s none of your business,” she spoke pushing Carl’s head down, “now eat your pancakes.”
@pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @maxinehufflepuffprincess @padsfirewhisky @moejoeflow @pank0w @qardasngan
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itsataraxiaa · 2 days
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sunday brainrot will not leave me ALONE just thinking abt his little "triple faced gods blah blah tell the truth" AURRRGGHH need to be interrogated by him SO BAD
omg yes
I imagine a scenario where you were his little insight spy without your knowledge and he‘ll use the Harmony to coax the information out of you. But this time- he was jealous of someone he didn't know.
i‘m completely normal about this man I swear
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Clematis
pairings: Yan!Sunday x reader warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Reader referred to as „Angel“, god complex Sunday (?)
it was supposed to be a simple meeting with your loving boyfriend.
when he requested your presence, you initially thought he was stressed because of work again and that he needed rest- that he needed you, as usual.
after bidding farewell to the shopkeeper you were currently with, you made your way towards the Reverie Hotel. Some Family members on the way recognized you and gave you a small smile or a simple bow- mostly due to the fact that you were Sunday‘s lover. You reciprocated the kind gesture and gave a quick smile as well, even after having the strange feeling of being watched.
once you were on the plaza in front of the Reverie, you noticed one of Sunday‘s crows on one of the fences, watching you closely. They have always been around the city and Sunday told you to simply ignore them, so you did. But today, they seemed restless; when you left Dewlight Pavillion, when you walked around Golden Hour, when you bought some snacks from a Pepeshi Person- at least one crow was watching you.
opening the doors to Dewlight Pavillion, you were expecting to see Brina behind the reception counter greeting you, but instead, you were met with utter silence- as no one was in the room. A hint of uneasiness washed over your body as you continued to traverse through the Pavillion. Even in the halls, where there were usually some guards, there was silence.
you were filled with worry before rushing towards Sunday‘s office, flinging the door open- only to see him stand leisurely in front of the bookcase.
after hearing you entering, your lover turned around and gave you his charming smile.
„Good, you‘re here, my dear.“ he said, one hand behind his back and the other directing towards an armchair. „Please, sit.“ you slowly shook your head as you turned to the door again, stuttering over your words. „The… e-entire Pavillion- there‘s.. no one.. i-is everything okay?“ as you turned back to Sunday, he gave you a reassuring smile. „yes, everything is fine, Angel. Please, calm down and sit.“ you shrugged before listening to your lover, sitting down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach did not falter one second, but you were telling yourself that you were safe as long as Sunday was there.
„Dear, you seem more stressed than I was a few moments ago. Shall I ease your worries first before I tell you mine?“ you let out a long exhale as you nodded your head. Usually, you were the one calming Sunday down after a long day; stroking his hair, cleaning his wings, kissing his temple- he always said he appreciated these small gestures and you loved to do them.
sunday did the same to you right now. He brushed a few hairs out of your face, held your cheek in his palm and kissed you lightly on the forehead, his wings engulfing your head softly. your body and mind had calmed down by the time he retracted his face and when he smiled again you mirrored it. However, when you looked closer, his smile wasn‘t genuine and behind, there were his crows- their eyes focused on you.
„Have you calmed down? May I now share my troubles with you, Angel?“ he asked like usually and without hesitation, you nodded. „Of course.“
„Perfect. Now, there have been some… ‚issues‘ inside the Family‘s network. The Bloodhound Family has been trying to apprehend a stowaway, and please, don‘t take this the wrong way when I say this,“ the feeling in your stomach only increased and you didn‘t like it.
„you meet a lot of people everyday, and the stowaway was one of them, we believe. You wouldn‘t mind telling me about that, would you?“ Sunday had his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly with his thumb, the fabric of his gloves smooth on you skin, but your breath hitched as his hand traveled to you chin, holding it.
"I'm afraid I don't know a-anything." you tried to sound normal, but the small stutter gave you away, yet Sunday only chuckled. "I don't need any of your lies today, love. My patience has been running thin these past few days." his charming smile was replaced with a small frown and your body was betraying you. You tried to compose yourself, but it was futile.
"I only need truths." Sunday said and his whole demeanor changed.
"Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."
your whole mind was shooting blanks as you felt an unfamiliar dizziness wash over you. The whole room was becoming too colorful, and your lover's face became distorted as he made you look at him again.
"I apologize for the circumstances, but you gave me no choice. Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed." his words were echoing in your ears and you finally realized the situation you were in.
The crows, the empty pavilion, the Harmony: he was watching you.
"Who were the people you met two days ago on the Dream's Edge?" he asked and multiple memories flooded your mind. At this very moment, you were scared. Scared at your Lover. You didn't want to answer but a terrible headache took your mind off the idea.
"...not many, I remember... Chadwick, Colleen, those small birds... and that one... man?" the headache eased once you answered but the Harmony's influence was still present.
"What man? What was his name? What did his appearance look like? What did the two of you talk about?" you wanted to get up from your seat and run away, return to reality- but you knew that your legs had no ounce of strength.
"I don't remember his name, but it was something with A... Adan, I believe...and he had blonde hair, I think... with brown eyes." the room was getting more and more blurry with each second you didn't answer, but the loss of equilibrium made even your memories hazy. "We talked about the view of the Dreamscape... yes, that's it.." Sunday hummed unsatisfied as he heard your answer, clicking his tongue.
"What else? What else did you talk about?"
"I don't remember...! My head hurts..." Sunday held your face in his hands and made you look at him. His hands were soft to the touch and a worried smile was plastered on his lips. "I really didn't want to do this, Angel." he cooed, his face close to yours. "You know I only want the best for you, don't you?" those sweet words made your heart melt as you remembered the times where he took the blame if you accidentally ruined some of the Family's documents or when you broke something in Dewlight Pavilion.
"Angel, I gave you everything, and I can give you even more- I can give you everything that exists in the world, just tell me what I want to know." your breath hitched before he placed a soft kiss on your lips and you think you lost your mind after everything was hazy. Your memory, your view, the voices- everything became duller and duller by the second. Sunday asked something and you answered, but you can't comprehend what you said. You only felt his hand graze your temple before darkness engulfed you and you blacked out.
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the soft humming, a calming scent, and a damp towel on your forehead welcomed you when you regained consciousness. as you slowly opened your eyes, a feather before your eyes greeted you and the humming stopped.
"You're awake. I was afraid you wouldn't wake up today." Sunday said softly, his hand on yours, stroking it gently. "...what?" you groaned as you fully regained consciousness, the headache returning tenfold. The damp towel was replaced by a hand, and you heard some whispering from Sunday.
"...oh, Triple-Faced Soul, may their fatigue vanish completely and let the harmony heal their mind."
you sighed as your body and mind calmed down, your worries from before disappearing. "Sunday...? what happened?" you asked when you saw his face full of worry.
"Nothing that needs your concern, Angel. Please, rest up and let me take care of you. Will you allow me?" you nodded at his gentle words and he hummed contently. His hand grazed over your arms as you felt more at ease before slowly falling asleep again. Sunday continued humming, even as he turned his face to his crows.
"Inform someone from the Bloodhound Family of this individual, and let them apprehend this... "stowaway." the crows disappeared in a blinks eye before he faced you again. The frown turned into a small smile again as he bent down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
"No one is allowed to 'flirt' with what is mine."
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A/N: hehahehafuu I'm going feral because of this man
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