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kikufuku01 · 1 year

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I Love You Always

Sukuna x Reader

Part 10 Dancing on Your Own ♡ ♡ ♡ Part 11 Toxic in You series m. list

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It hasn’t been the same since. Sukuna acts like he’s fine with you when you’re around the others, but now his eyes don’t linger on you. He barely starts a conversation with you, shit, he talks to Kazuya more than he does with you. Kaede thought it was weird but you told her it was nothing. Just friends outgrowing each other due to hanging out too much in the past. They don’t seem exclusive yet either, so it’s safe to say that they’re still talking? You don’t know, but you’ve been trying to drown yourself in Kazuya as much as possible. You’ve been ditching Kaede’s group invites, saying that you and Kazuya were already busy, and when he’d try to join them, you would tell him to give them some space.

Another thing is, you’re completely dreading today. It just feels like it’s gonna be a bad day. You’re pushing the cart around the store with an empty mind while your mom adds things in. She’s on the phone with your dad, talking about work or whatever, so you’re just left alone to follow aimlessly.

“Did you want this, sweetheart?”

She’s holding a pack of Himemaru rice crackers in the air to get your attention. You barely look at them, “sure.”

Just like that, she drops them in the cart and continues her conversation on the phone. Nothing in particular catches your attention since you don’t seem to have much of an appetite lately. You wouldn’t call it depression either, that’d be going overboard. You just miss how things were before.

Your mom taps your arm, “are you alright these days? You’re not grabbing all the snacks you usually eat.”

“I’m on a diet,” you lie, turning into the next aisle.

She stops you right there and crosses her arms, a worried look in her eyes. They search you for answers before she opens her mouth again, “you know, before I was afraid you were eating too much and now…”

Her nervous smile quivers, “you’re not eating and it’s a drastic change. These are also signs of pregnancy, sweetheart. You’ve been going out a lot and staying out during late hours, I’m afraid of what you’ve been doing.”

“Mom–”

“I’m not stupid. I was your age once too, you know. I know that you’re having fun, but I just wish for you to be safe. Your father hasn’t caught on, but I am concerned. How about after we shop, I take you to the clinic to get a checkup?”

“I haven’t done those things yet, so there’s nothing to be scared of. We’ll just waste our time going over there.”

The attitude in your tone takes your mom by surprise but she nods in defeat, “you sound like you’re telling the truth, then.”

You stick your tongue out at her to lighten the mood, “let’s just finish this up and go back home.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Your dad has been walking on eggshells around you as well over the last few months. He doesn’t speak to you any different, but maybe he too can pick up on your shift in mood. Is it really that drastic? Surely you’ve always been a grump, so what’s the big difference?

“I’ll take those,” he says as he takes the groceries from your hands.

You allow him to take them and follow him into the kitchen to help sort out the items. Your mom also comes in to help, leaving out what she’ll make for dinner.

“Will you be joining us?”

You look at your dad with a shrug, “I think I have plans with someone, so I’m not sure.”

He juts his lips but nods understandably, “you are going out with a female friend or male?”

“It’s a mix of both genders. We’re a group of people.”

“Shouldn’t you introduce us so that we know who you’re with?”

“It’s not necessary, so no.”

You give him stern eyes and head towards your bedroom. You’re annoyed by people constantly prying into your life. You don’t want them to meet Kazuya because they’ll misunderstand what he is to you, and you most certainly do not want them to meet someone like Sukuna. They’ll only judge, because that’s all they do. Especially your mom.

Since you’re bored, you decide to change out of what you’re currently wearing and put something else on. “I’ll be back later,” you shout as you close the door behind you.

Your feet guide you through the area you first saw Sukuna. He’s not there anymore, obviously. The spot is now taken over by a guitarist, playing his heart out to make some extra cash. The tune sounds nice to your ears, but it does strike a couple of heartstrings. A grin appears on your lips as you dig into your wallet, grabbing a single twenty. You diligently place the bill in his guitar case and back up into the rest of the crowd again to listen.

The man sends you a gracious smile and tips his head at you, “thank you~”

Your hands come out in front of you and wave, “don’t mention it.”

The man leans towards a smaller build, with soft fluffy hair and delicate looking hands. He’s pretty, but you can tell he’s fairly young, possibly mid-teens. He’s completely different from Sukuna– why are you even comparing the two? You snap out of your own thoughts and turn around to leave the crowd. Probably wasn’t a wise choice to revisit such a nostalgic area.

You shove your airpods in and blast music to drown out the real world while you walk to the next destination. It doesn’t take you too long, but you push through the doors and approach the hostess, “hi, I’m sorry, do you know if Mastuyama Kazuya is working today?”

She beams brightly and bows a bit, “oh yes, his shift should be over in a few hours. Let me get him for you, he’s in the back.”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he greets, coming out from the back.

“Just thought I’d visit you for a bit,” you reason, “sorry, is it rush hour for you?”

Kazuya titters softly, “you’re fine, the kitchen can handle it.”

You push your hair behind your ear as you speak, “I’ll just be a second. I know you’re busy, so are we still going to the movies later tonight?”

“About that…” he trails off.

He wipes the sweat from his forehead with his forearms and pouts a bit, “I must be famous today. Sukuna and Kaede came to visit not too long ago.”

“Did they?”

You’re not sure as to why he’d bring them up, but you listen anyway.

Kazuya gestures towards a table, “yeah, they finished their meal like half an hour ago.”

“What do they have to do with our plans later?”

“Matsuyama, we need you back on the stove,” an employee says as he pokes his head out.

Kazuya nods hurriedly at him, “I’ll be right there.” He gently pinches your cheek, “they invited us to the club tonight and I kind of agreed without thinking. Don’t be too mad, okay? I gotta go, so I’ll see you tonight. See ya!”

“But–”

A fat sigh blows past your lips at the sight of him rushing back into the kitchen. Damn, you knew today felt shitty for a reason. Clubbing? With Sukuna? In a place where alcohol is involved? Not that you have to drink, but the environment is giving you flashbacks of that night, and it’s not bright. You will admit, there are times when you have dreams of that night and it drives you crazy! It’s that guilty conscience of yours…

Maybe you can find a way out of this, right?

♡ ♡ ♡

Kaede keeps blowing up your phone about tonight’s plan. She wants to know what you’ll wear, how you’ll do your hair etc. You’re not answering her much, just giving her short responses. Do you sound like a bitch? Probably. Do you care? Not really. Everything in your closet seems too bland and stupid but you managed to figure something out. It wasn’t anything too flashy, since you still have to see your parents, but enough to get you into the club.

You’re outside the gate, waiting for Sukuna’s car. He decided it’d be cheaper and safest to just use his chauffeur and who are you to argue against that? There’s a mix of emotions that you’re feeling as you wait, but the most defined one is anger and irritation. You don’t want to see Sukuna and Kaede flirt, mainly because you’ve been getting those flashbacks. Shit, you can barely look them in the eyes.

Right as you’re thinking this, you see the familiar black car pull up. It stops right in front of you and the passenger window rolls down.

“Get in,” he spits out coldly.

You barely catch it. That’s how low it is. Loud enough just for you to hear. He’s not even looking at you, he’s just staring straight ahead, and you want to smack that big ol’ head of his. You want to shove your hand through the window and fuck up his stupid, gelled back hair. Does he realize how stupid he looks? Okay, he doesn’t look stupid at all, you’re just being petty, but that’s okay!

You groan and open the back door to see both Kazuya and Kaede. They smile at you and shower you in compliments, ones that go in your ear and out the other. You’re only focusing on the back of his stupid pink hair. He got his roots retouched, how conceited. Ugh, and his cologne is too overwhelming. It makes your stomach churn.

“You doing okay?”

Kazuya’s eyebrows are pointed upwards in a worried way as he examines your sour face. Upon realization, you fix your face and hum, “peachy.”

You look at what Kaede is wearing and you instantly feel insecure. The feelings you feel, it’s the same as when you introduced Kaede to Sukuna. Why do you keep feeling this way? It’s annoying. Her hair is loosely curled, her makeup is done smokey, complimenting the dress she has on and her heels are sexy and strappy. Her charisma is even crazier tonight.

“You look sexy,” you compliment, sending a wink her way, regardless of the bad feelings inside.

Kaede giggles and shies away, “stop~ you’re teasing me.”

Your focus then turns towards Kazuya and your fingers land on the sleeves of his shirt, “you look great too, Kazuya.”

No one sees the red hues that glare through the rearview mirror, you’re all much too focused on your own little conversations, blabbing about this and that. Sukuna’s jaw tightens at the sight of you and he ignores the way your laugh sends shivers down his spine. You’re a fucking ungrateful bitch, that’s what you are.

Thankfully the ride isn’t too long. You’re all dropped off in the middle of the street and left to wait in line for the club. Kazuya is walking in front with Sukuna while Kaede holds your arms for support. It wasn’t too wise of you guys to pregame in the car, but it already happened, so.

“Where are you going?”

You call out with a glare and Sukuna barely looks back at you, “to the front.”

Kazuya spits out short apologies to the people you’re all cutting and taps Sukuna, “shouldn’t we be waiting in the back?”

“I work here,” Sukuna says, smiling his best.

Oh, that’s right. Sukuna works as a bartender at a club. This must be the place. Why didn’t it click in your head sooner?

Kaede’s grip on your arm is so tight that you feel like your arm will snap off. You’re about to say something to her, but Sukuna reaches out for her and takes her from you, “come here.”

He greets the bouncer and whispers something in their ear. They don’t even hesitate to let you all through, and as crazy as it is, you smile at Kazuya with excitement and raise your eyebrows, “I guess we don’t gotta pay.”

“Does that mean we get free drinks too?” Kazuya jokes, pulling you closer to him as the music begins to blare louder.

Sukuna chuckles, “that, you gotta pay for.”

You promised yourself not to drink too much, in fear you might slip up. Kaede and Sukuna, however, have been taking shots left and right. Their tab must be huge. Kazuya is the only one completely sober, but he’s having fun regardless, dancing with no shame. He’s fun to be with, at a time like this. You’re trying too, you are.

In order to distract yourself, you continue to dance with Kazuya, but not in a sensual way. Just goofy moves and whatnot. You’re not too sure how long it’s been, but maybe you guys have been here for two hours already. You’ve lost the other two in the crowd, so it helps to keep you distracted.

There’s just one thing… luck is never on your fucking side!

Kazuya reaches into his back pocket and leans towards your ear, shouting, “I gotta take this!”

You follow him towards the bathroom area and wait for him there to avoid separation. You pray that it’s a useless phone call, but something in your gut tells you otherwise. Approximately six minutes pass and Kazuya comes back out with a sorry smile.

There’s dread in your eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?”

He thins out his lips and gives you a soft caress before leaning towards your ear to shout, “sorry, y/n, but I just got a call from work. Someone had to go home suddenly and no one else could cover their shift.”

“But it’s almost eleven–”

His eyes shut, “I know, I know, but our restaurant stays open until 1am and they don’t have another chef. I’m sorry, y/n.”

You bite your tongue and huff, “it can’t be helped.”

Kazuya frowns too, since he feels sorry for having to suddenly abandon you, “I can help you search for the others before I leave–”

“Just go,” you blurt, your chest swelling with the action.

When you see the hurt in his face, you apologize, “sorry, it’s not your fault. It’d be better if you arrived over there quickly. I’ll look for them myself.”

You’re both shouting over the music, but you can hear each other clearly. He looks around the club once more before pulling you into a hug, “I’ll see you later, y/n.”

“Yeah,” you mutter against his chest.

♡ ♡ ♡

So, you might’ve had a few more shots. Just three more. Your vision isn’t fucked up, but your anger has subsided. Oh, you’re also dancing way more, now that you’re here by yourself, but it’s still fun. You get a couple of guys and girls here and there, but they know the drill, they don’t stay too long. In all honesty, you’ve kind of forgotten all about the other two people you came with.

That was, until… You’re shouting over the music with a random group of people you’ve found. It’s a mix of both women and men, mainly consisting of women. They know how to party, how to have fun. You watched them take body shots off of each other and when they offered you, you quickly denied, “it’s okay, I can’t get too drunk!”

“Awh, maybe next time then,” one of the men suggests, giving you a cute pout.

Though he suggests it, neither of you bother to exchange socials; his words nothing but empty. You sway to the loud music and look around, your eyes scanning over hundreds of faces but… you see him. You see him anywhere. You see him in the midst of the crowd, no one but him. It’s not because of his bright pink hair, it’s not because of his tattoos. You see him because he is Ryomen Sukuna.

All of your movements still instantly as you watch what’s in front of you. He’s stuck in the middle of a crowd with rowdy people, but in his arms is a very drunk Kaede. Her eyes are closed as she grinds her hips against his, her arms lifted and wrapped around his neck as a way to help support herself, even though he’s got both palms planted on her hips. Their faces are so close that it’s almost like they’ll kiss, and it sparks a fire in your chest. You feel it all at once while your head spins at the sight. Your chest stings, your heart falls, your face feels heated, and your heart is pounding so hard against you that it hurts. There’s a stupid, fat lump in your throat as you continue to watch them dance with each other.

His expensive silk shirt is unbuttoned, like always, and you see the way Kaede’s nose dips closer to his bare skin. Will she lick him? Sniff him? They’re dancing so sensually. Are they both drunk? Is he taking advantage of her? Are they together? Have they done more than this? A million questions race through your head as you stomp through the crowd, not caring that you rudely bump into people.

With hate filled eyes, you march over and shove a random girl out of your way. You’re so focused on your own heightened emotions that you don’t care if you get into a fight. She glares at you, “what the fuck is your problem?!”

You ignore her and continue to push through. Without thinking, you grab Sukuna’s wrist and yank him away from Kaede, making them both stumble.

“What the fuck are you two doing?! Are you fucking out of your minds?!”

The poor girl is much too intoxicated to understand the situation, only reaching out to grab Sukuna’s hand while her head leans on his back for support. He looks down at you coldly, “what?”

Fuck, you’re too stunned to speak now. Where did all that anger go? It seems to have disappeared the moment he laid eyes on you. His eyes pierce through you so harshly. His nostrils flare as his patience runs out and he steps back to grab Kaede by her waist. He then proceeds to use his other hand to grab at your forearm harshly, choosing to drag you guys to the bar. He quickly waves over one of the bartenders, “this girl is with me. Make sure to have someone watch over her in the back room.”

“Don’t take too long, can’t guarantee that boss will let her stay.”

Sukuna sighs in annoyance, “tell him she’s with me. He won’t care.”

He doesn’t wait for the other guy’s response and continues to drag you. You’re a bit scared with how shady the door looks, but he drags you out and you realize that you guys are in an alleyway. Sukuna’s chin rises, “what the fuck was that all about?”

You glare up at him as he continues, “I was hitting it off with Kaede. Why’d you do all of that?”

“I’m worried,” you stupidly admit.

You hate how weak you sound. You hate how unconfident you’re feeling from just his gaze.

Sukuna scoffs out loud at you, “worried about what? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He steps closer to you, “for you to be with Kazuya without needing to worry about me? You set me up with Kaede and now you’re concerned?”

His face leans down, hovering over yours as a petty smirk draws itself on his lips. Your heart feels like it’s about to explode. You raise your chin pridefully, scoffing at his attitude, even though you had one first, “jeez, you must really like her. I didn’t think you’d be that upset about it.”

“Well, I am,” he quickly replies. There’s spite laced in his voice.

You blink a few times at his confirmation, and it seems to calm your sudden burst of anger. What used to be irritation morphs into something of shame and you lower your face a bit, “sorry for acting out then. Go back to her.”

You want to leave. You want to go home and cry. You want to be anywhere but here. You’re already turning around to walk away from him but he calls out angrily, “we’re not done talking, y/n.”

You hate the way he says your name.

“I think we are,” You’re only a few steps away from him, “you can go back to being touchy with her.”

Sukuna groans to himself, his voice becoming more stern, “I said we weren’t done talking. Stay still and look me in the eyes.”

You turn around to face him, “it’s fine, it was a spur of the moment.”

You motion towards the heavy door, “let’s just go back, she’s probably worried about you.”

With heavy footsteps, you try to get past him. Sukuna has other plans. He stops you and steps in front of you again, “y/n, I’m serious. Tell me what that shit was about. You had no fucking right to do that, to her or me.”

“I–”

Why are you getting choked up? It fucking sucks. This shit fucking sucks! What the fuck are you even doing? Why were you so mad in the first place?

Sukuna’s expression mocks you, a sneer on his face, “what, you can’t talk now? All of a sudden, the words can’t come out of your throat?”

He brings his hand up to your face and his thumb grazes your bottom lip gently, “you seemed to do just fine earlier when you were telling us off.”

There’s a stinging sensation in the corner of your eyes. Ah shit, don’t tell me it’s tears. What are they? Angry tears? Sad? Hurt?

Sukuna chuckles deeply, his thumb still on your lip, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry now.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you say as you swat his hand away from you.

You quickly spin around to walk, hoping that you get to the end of the alley quickly. Sukuna’s heavy feet only take two steps forward before stopping, “get back here, right now.”

When you don’t listen, he raises his voice, “Ichihara y/n, I’m not playing with you.”

The seriousness in his tone has you stilling. Your mind is yelling at you to keep going, so why did you stop? Again, you turn around to face him, “I don’t know, Sukuna. I don’t know why I did that.”

Sukuna’s long strides get him close to you again and there’s a heavy frown on his lips, “yes, you do. I know you do.”

He heaves a sigh, mostly for himself, and then stares into your eyes. For a brief second, there’s worry in them.

“Look, let’s just take a deep breath together, okay?” he suggests, raising a brow.

Without needing to countdown, you both inhale and exhale together. He hums expectantly, “now tell me what’s wrong.”

The reason why you were so angry? Well, you don’t want to believe it.

“Sukuna, I–” the tears fall past your eyes, cascading down your cheeks, “I’m really jealous.”

His eyes widened. They widened and then his gaze turned into something bitter, “why are you saying this to me?”

He backs away from you, “why are you telling me this? Why now?”

More tears fall as you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m really jealous when you’re with Kaede, Sukuna.”

“Don’t say that shit to me,” he spits out, “what about Kazuya, hm? Weren’t you so sure you liked him? Why are you saying this all of a sudden?”

Your eyes turn cold as well, looking at him with hate, “I didn’t realize I liked you this much!”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches at your confession, his fists balling so tight that his knuckles turn white.

You continue with a shaky voice, “I wasn’t sure if what we had was platonic or not–” your voice breaks, “so I chose Kazuya because he was the safest option.”

He shakes his head at you, seething as he does so, “you had months to figure it out, y/n. Months.”

Your heart throbs.

“Okay, I get it! You’re mad and I feel stupid and embarrassed, so just go back to Kaede already.”

You turn around and begin to speed walk, not caring if you just ruined your entire relationship with Sukuna. He, however, has other plans, choosing to chase after you. He spins you around violently, “no, don’t try to pull this shit on me. You’re fucking manipulating me.”

“I’m not!”

You try to pry his hands off of you with your own but you’re too weak. He won’t budge no matter how much you try.

You weakly shove him away, only moving yourself with the action, “I told you why I made a scene and now you’re just upset! I’m embarrassed, and I would just like to go home.”

Sukuna’s phone makes a notification sound and he quickly pulls his phone out to look at the text. He releases you with a glare, “Kaede texted me, I’m going back.”

It takes everything in him to not hug you, to not comfort you and kiss you. He’s so angry with you. You’re hurt? Well so is he. His chest heaves heavily while he tries to calm his heart, “get home safe.”

“I don’t need to hear that from you,” you spit out, looking away from him.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, “and I didn’t need to hear that shit from you either but look what happened.”

He shoves his phone back into his pocket, “whether you choose to text me when you get home or not is on you, I don’t care.” He turns around, “see ya.”

♡ ♡ ♡

You don’t remember how you got home. All you know is that you turned your phone off after catching a cab. Gosh, you’re so stupid. All of this shit is your fault. If you weren’t so stupid, indecisive and moody then none of this would’ve happened. You were too embarrassed to show yourself in front of your parents, so you crawled through your window.

After lazily locking it, you plopped down onto the bed and curled up into a ball. All of these raw emotions make you feel ugly inside and it hurts a lot. You see flashes of the look in his eyes and yours close immediately, refusing to relive the moment.

You knew about your feelings. You knew this whole time; you just didn’t want to believe it. Now that you’ve told him, you feel much smaller in the world. Your heart feels like it’s been smashed to bits and pieces and don’t even get started on Kaede. How will you ever look her in the eyes again? No, what will you say to Kazuya? He’s not the one your heart yearns for, he’s far from it, no matter how much you try. He’s such a sweet man, but he’s not who you want.

After lying in bed for a few hours, you pushed yourself up and gathered fresh clothes. You heard your parents go to bed hours ago but you were too drained to move earlier. You strip and wait for the water to turn hot, getting in once you’re satisfied with the heat. The thing that sucks is the fact that you can’t focus on anything. All you see is the disgust and hatred in his eyes.

You feel dirty.

A soft whimper falls from your lips as you begin to scrub your body harshly, hoping to get rid of the feeling. No matter how much you scrub and scratch, you can’t get the dirty feeling off. If Kaede found out about your feelings, would she hate you too? This is exactly why you refused to believe in your feelings for Sukuna. She’s always shown her interest in him; she was never discreet. You let yourself sink and hug your knees while the water pelts you.

You’re the worst kind of friend. Who in the fucking world begs the man that their friend is interested in to take them to a party, proceeds to get drunk together and then fucking makes out, almost leading to sex? Only bad friends. The worst part is you begging him to keep quiet about it, because you knew it was wrong. How dare you continue to hang out with her and act as if nothing ever happened. But, you’re a coward. You can’t fess up. You don’t want to lose another friend. You let yourself cry for a few more minutes before sucking it up and ending your shower.

The bed feels colder than usual. You feel like the loneliest person in the world. It’s funny though, since you did this to yourself. You’ll continue to talk to Kaede until she eventually finds out, because you’re a coward like that. Yeah, that’s what you are.

♡ ♡ ♡

You wake up with a headache. It must be from all the stupid crying but you push yourself up and force yourself to get through the day. You still haven’t turned your phone on, as you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Your everyday morning routine is done with ease, even with a blank mind. When you roam into the dining area, your mom jumps up.

“I thought you weren’t home. We waited all night for you,” she says while adding breakfast to a plate that’s now meant for you.

“I came home quietly.”

You take the plate from her and place it at the table, moving to help her set up everything else. She squints her judgy eyes at you, “your eyes are red and puffy.”

“Oh, she might’ve just had fun last night.”

Your dad’s voice interferes and he pops into the room with a smile. He’s obviously trying to get her off of your back, but she continues to poke at you, “or she was crying. What happened?”

“I drank a lot.”

Your unfiltered comment has your parents at a loss for words and you laugh, “I’m being responsible so please stop treating me like I’m some child.”

The breakfast that your mom cooked might’ve been really tasty but you can’t seem to taste a single thing. It’s all bland to you, sadly. You feel their eyes on you. It’s annoying. With wavering patience, you place your utensils down and stand, “I’m done.”

Their whispered argument goes on deaf ears as you walk back into your room to get ready. You do your makeup as quickly as possible and then turn your phone on. There’s a message or two from Kaede and she’s apologizing for getting too drunk. Does she even know what happened last night? You don’t have the heart to respond, so you turn off your read notifications and leave her unanswered. Kazuya’s messages are just him apologizing for leaving early. You give him a short response but that’s all. Sukuna hasn’t messaged you at all, and that’s something you should probably get used to.

Anyways, you need to end things with Kazuya. You can’t continue to lead him on like this, and you should probably tell him the truth. It’s the least you can do for him. You asked to meet up with him after work and he agreed in an instance. Now all that’s left is the waiting game.

It’s not as easy to distract yourself when you’re panicking over what to say and how you’ll say it. He’s such a sweetheart that you might break and cry while telling him everything. He’d probably even question why you’re the one crying when it should be him… Oh god, you seriously need to pull yourself together before you make any situation worse.

For hours, you practiced what you would say to Kazuya so you wouldn’t stutter for words. You looked into a mirror and trained your facial expressions so that you’d be less tense in front of him. You even imagined the pained expression that he would hold when you broke the news to him, but you still felt horrible when doing so. Kazuya truly is a soft soul and a great friend. You’d hate to lose him, but you know he’ll be gone. You’ll be left alone for a long time too, since Kaede and Sukuna won’t stay by you after this either.

It’s already a little past 6pm and you’re on your way to meet Kazuya. He chose a small coffee shop since he wanted some caffeine. You stop in front of the door and take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the last time. Just like before, you force a smile and pull the door open, the little bell dinging above your head.

“Welcome in,” you hear the employee greet. You suck in a breath and lock eyes with Kazuya who waves you down. He looks different today, almost as if he knows something. Yes, he’s smiling, but it’s forlorn. You walk to him and sit down, nervously accepting the warm drink he offers you.

“I went ahead and ordered for you too,” he says while retracting his hand.

“Thanks.”

It’s a dry reply. Oh god, you feel terrible. Kazuya taps the table with the pads of his fingers, “listen, about last night, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, maybe a little too fast, “it’s fine, seriously. I–”

He cuts you off, “you wanted to talk to me, I know. So, what is it?”

“Uh…”

Shit! All those hours of practicing went to fucking waste! Why can’t you speak up? Are you just stupid and useless? Is that it? He deserves to know the truth, so why can’t you stop being a coward and speak up? You called him to talk, so talk.

Kazuya’s hand slides across the table and he gently holds your index finger. Only that finger. You appreciate how he still respects your space and boundaries, even after all those months of you basically leading him on. He rubs his finger over your smooth nail polish and he shoots you a kind smile, “you have pretty hands.”

“You always say that.”

A grin stretches as you recall the many times he’s complimented them. No matter what color or length, he’d always comment on it. The memories are bittersweet as well, and you’re a bit upset at yourself for even smiling at a time like this. Kazuya’s other hand brushes through his hair, revealing his forehead as he does so.

“It’s about time you smile at me, timid girl.”

Your face turns red, mainly from embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Kazuya.”

He lets go of your finger and grabs his cup, drinking the warm beverage. When he’s done, he looks back at you, “It’s alright, y/n. I think I know what this is about.”

“You do?”

Your voice is small. You hate it. How can Kazuya keep smiling at you?

“I’ve been trying for months, y/n. I’m not clueless.”

Your head falls, “I’m sorry.”

The fact that you don’t deny him only proves his theory. Kazuya didn’t know for sure, but now his questions and doubts are confirmed. He tries not to let it show and instead keeps smiling at you, “I told you that I noticed how you changed here and there over time, but I didn’t want to bother you about it in case you were also figuring yourself out.”

Kazuya becomes quiet for a short while but then continues, “I didn’t want to believe it at first, but after I saw Sukuna’s wallpaper, everything just kind of clicked. You’re not a good liar either, y/n, but I like that about you. It makes you kind of cute.”

You laugh again, because you don’t know what to say. All you know how to say is ‘sorry’ and you’re sure that Kazuya doesn’t want to keep hearing that from you.

Everything about him is calm, from the way he looks at you, to the way he speaks. He seems completely fine on the outside, but he’s screaming at himself internally. He wants to break down and cry because he does truly like you, but what good is it if the person you’re interested in just can’t find it within themselves to like you back. His right leg bounces quickly under the table, but you don’t know that.

Kazuya suddenly leans over the table to tap your hand, mainly to get your attention, “I really liked you and I hoped that we could work out, but I understand. Thank you for trying anyway, y/n.”

There’s a small, teeny tiny weight that lifts from your chest, “is this really okay with you, Kazuya?”

“Mmm… no hard feelings, promise.”

Poor guy… he’s flashing you such a pretty smile but you can see the tears welling in his eyes. You only have yourself to blame for this. If you were honest from the beginning then he wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. You tilt your head up at Kazuya when he pulls on your finger.

“It’s always been him, huh?”

Does he seriously want an answer to that? It would only hurt him more… You see the expectant expression though, so you nod with shame, “I didn’t want it to be him, I swear. He just snuck his way in.”

Kazuya lets your finger go and slowly slides his hand back towards himself, “but does he like you?”

He already knows the answer. Even a blind man can see just how much you two pine for each other; he just wishes you were more honest with yourselves.

You clench the cup a bit tighter, “I’m sorry.”

His expression softens quickly, “for what?”

“I’m sorry for not seeing you in a romantic way, Kazuya.”

Oh my god. That’s the worst kind of thing to say. Please, shut the fuck up.

You’re expecting him to cry, but he bursts out laughing, a hand flying over his mouth to try and hide it. When you furrow your brows at him, he dips his head and takes a minute to collect himself.

“Don’t say things like that, you’ll make me feel small both emotionally and physically. Anyhow,” he snickers one last time to mask his sadness, “I’m rooting for you. I don’t know what’ll happen to you guys, since Kaede is also in the picture, but I’ll always be cheering you on. I hope you get your happy ending, timid girl.”

It’s odd. You hate Sukuna’s ‘halfie’ but you don’t seem to mind Kazuya’s ‘timid girl’. Is that weird?

Your lip quivers, “I’m sorry that I can’t love you in the same way.”

“Stop,” he teases, “you’ll make me cry. I’m trying to seem tough here.”

Kazuya stands from the table first and waits for you to get up. Like a gentleman, he assists you out of the cafe and holds the door for you.

“I guess we should stop our frequent meetups from here on out.”

He holds his arms open and you rush in to return his hug, holding him as tightly as you can. This is supposed to make you feel better, but you only feel like shit. Well, you are kind of shit, but there’s no need to continue berating yourself.

Ugh, fucking bitch. You’re crying. Kazuya’s soft chuckle vibrates against you while his hands rub your back soothingly, “this must’ve been a tough decision for you, y/n. I know it’s not easy, you did good.”

“I–” you get a bit choked up, but keep going, “I am truly sorry towards you, for not being able to feel the same way.”

Kazuya pulls his face back to look directly in your eyes, a tiny grin on his lips, “I told you that it was all okay. I understand completely, alright? Friends?”

Another fat tear rolls down your cheek, “yeah, friends.”

He rests his face against the side of your head before giving it a quick kiss, “talk it out with Sukuna, alright? He’s a cool guy.”

“He’s an ass, but I will.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Welp! That’s one problem gone. Now you’ve got another storm of problems to get over. How will you confront Sukuna and how will you tell Kaede without causing any more problems? She’s going to be upset, that’s unavoidable. The problem is how upset she’ll be. You’re not sure how far she and Sukuna have gone, but based on how they acted in the club, they might’ve gotten pretty far with each other. Afterall, Sukuna isn’t exactly an in-your-face type of guy, so if they are together then it’s on the downlow, and if that’s the case then it’s no wonder he got so upset with you. You curse under your breath at yourself. You should’ve just asked Kaede a month ago if she and Sukuna were exclusive. You remember the way he held her hips and how they grinded against each other. A shudder runs down your spine at the fact that they might be sleeping together already.

Shit. Whether you say something or not, you’re gonna lose. It’s a lose-lose situation for you regardless of what you do, and that fucking sucks!

“I’m fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

When you’re back in reality, you recognize the area. Your stupid feet have led you to the train tracks you used to hang out at. All those memories of you arguing with Sukuna over little things come flying by and you laugh to yourself while the rocks crunch beneath you. You also remember throwing salt at him all the time. Oh yeah. You haven’t done that in a long while. You keep going, choosing to walk on the actual tracks instead but as you get further, your heart seems to pulse faster. Your intuition tells you to turn and run, far away, but your feet won’t listen.

And, shit. What are the odds that you’d run into him here, today? Well, that’s exactly what the fuck just happened! Why is he here? Why is he sitting on the tracks with his back turned to you? His intoxicating scent fills your nostrils and you switch to breathing through your mouth, refusing to allow him in. His hair isn’t styled today, it’s left soft and untouched, blowing gently with the light breeze. You stand still and hold your breath, trying not to make too much sound but it’s too late.

“You’re always late, Kaede. Next time I’m ditching–”

Sukuna’s words are cut short when he turns around and finds you instead. Why the fuck are you here? Who the hell invited you? He hates that you still look beautiful.

All you can do is stare at him. He looks so different from before; it’s the way his eyes no longer hold any warmth for you. You should’ve taken advantage of those eyes back then, but who would’ve known that you two would end up like this so quickly. It’s just barely 7pm and the orange sky behind him suits him so well. It complements the pigment of his skin and blends in prettily with his artificial pink hair. If you were a bigger fool, you’d think that you were in hell with the devil himself. His aura and glare are enough to burn through your skin and you’re foolish, because you can’t seem to run away.

“You should probably get outta here, Kaede will be here soon,” he spits out, turning away so that he can no longer see you.

“Sukuna, about–”

He cuts you off, “you should also stop coming here, to all the areas we’ve hung out before. It wouldn’t be good for either of us to keep on running into each other.”

So what the fuck does that mean? Is he confirming that he and Kaede are together? Are they cutting you off? You’re really sick and tired of crying, but you can’t stop.

You’re quiet, so he goes on, “I’ll still be around when Kaede wants to hang out with you, but don’t expect too much. I’ll talk to you here and there so it doesn’t come off as weird, but I won’t get in yours or Kazuya’s way.”

You’re not ready for either of this. You were not expecting to run into Sukuna so soon and you don’t know what to say to him. You haven’t had the time to try and sort this shit out, so for it to come flying at you like this all at once has you overwhelmed. Right now, you wish a train would just come and run you over, but that’s not happening. Not anytime soon, at least.

You’re too quiet. Sukuna lazily tilts his head towards you and clicks his tongue at what he sees.

“Seriously? You’re crying now?” He snickers dryly, “you’re really fucking crying right now?”

A short sob falls from your lips, “can I not cry when my feelings are hurt?”

“No, you don’t get to cry.”

He closes the distance between you, “and don’t even think about trying to cry about this later. I won’t fall for it.”

Your mouth falls agape and you think about how none of this would’ve been a problem if he had just left you alone the second time you guys talked. You try to blink away the rest of your tears, “I never asked for this. I didn’t ask for you to stay by my side and cling to me.”

Sukuna thinks it’s funny, so he laughs in a spiteful manner. Weren’t you the one who came to bother him? Asking about his name and shit? Talking about always seeing him linger on the fucking streets?

“Oh, so now you’re ungrateful too, bitch.”

You shove him away on instinct, “would you stop that?”

His tongue comes out to poke at the corner of his mouth while he chuckles, “stop what? My sarcasm?” he steps closer again, towering over you, “why? Does it hurt you?”

“Yeah, it fucking hurts me, Sukuna,” you quietly admit, a new stream of tears slipping past your eyes.

When you think about your argument last night, your heart aches and you don’t want to feel this way anymore. You just want to get it over with. When you think about how he’s waiting for Kaede right now, your heart falls to pieces.

“Seeing you with her hurts my feelings. I’m jealous, really jealous.”

Everything cunning about Sukuna drops and he backs away from you, pushing his hair back in frustration, “you don’t get to feel that way! Not now, not ever.” His chest heaves heavily as he speaks to you, “what gives you the right to, hm? That you realized you liked me too late?”

He comes to you again but you don’t move, you don’t wince at his aggression. His red hues bore into yours, “what’re you gonna do about Kazuya, huh? Tell me.”

Just tell him. That’s all you need to do. Tell him that you ended things with Kazuya. As easy as it sounds like to do so, you can’t. You just ended things with him and even that hurt. You can still see just how much he was holding back, how hard he was trying to not cry in front of you. You remember how when you both parted ways, you turned around and saw his arms raise towards his face. He broke down when he was sure you were already walking away from him, and it made you feel like the shittiest person alive because he didn’t deserve that. And even if you could tell Sukuna, you’re more worried now than ever about the fact that he and Kaede might be dating. Everything he’s doing, all of this anger, it’s possible that he’s angry with you because you’re too late and they’re already together.

Sukuna’s irises flick back and forth all over your face as he waits for you to speak up. Why aren’t you saying anything? Why can’t you ever say anything?

“Stop fucking crying, y/n,” he says in a softer tone, more so to help himself calm down.

“This is stupid,” you say weakly, “I’m being stupid.”

You quickly wipe your eyes and turn around to leave. That’s better anyway because Kaede could show up at any moment.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he chases after you with long strides, “we aren’t done talking about this.”

“Well, I am.”

“Well I’m not, so get your ass back here before I lift you over my shoulder and drag you away myself.”

You still haven’t turned around, “that’s kidnapping.”

He stands right behind you, “I don’t give a shit, y/n. I’ll do it, you know I will.”

He’s not bluffing. You hate that you know. You take a deep breath and turn back to face him.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You’re a fucking dick.”

“Says the one causing problems.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You’re a fucking dick.”

@lucyrocks86 @mykyoon @hxlalokidottir @wo-ming-bai @yourusernames @adoraspace

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fluff #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk fanfic #sukuna #sukuna fanfic #ryomen sukuna #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #alternate universe #slow burn

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elvendorx · 7 months

Note

Also do you have any canon compliant James headcanons?? Thank uu!

I have lots of little james hcs! at this point it's hard to separate them into canon compliant/otherwise so I'm just gonna list a few

james is the sporty friend who is always talking about various body parts aching or needing to be training or just doing odd things. he has bruises everywhere from quidditch practise, new ones blooming even when he hasn't had practise, he's there stretching his legs out across his friends' laps like "thanks mate, i need to keep this knee elevated", asking them to crack his back, hold him for balance while he stretches in the middle of the corridor, rub a tight spot he can't reach and doesn't really think twice about the physical intimacy of it.

he catnaps a LOT. the others turn to james and like 50% of the time he's out, he's resting his head on his arms, he's leaning on sirius' shoulder with his eyes closed. sometimes he's actually asleep, sometimes he's just resting his eyes but nobody can tell the difference (maybe sirius can). the others will be halfway through a conversation and james hasn't moved for half an hour and without opening his eyes he's just joins in like "wouldn't you need a stronger charm for that?"

this one is tiny but i feel like fellow glasses wearers will know that sometimes you just...get fed up of seeing and taking your glasses off is like taking a bra off and james does this every so often, just pushes his glasses up into his hair or rests them on his forehead and just carries on talking. usually waits a while in the morning to put them on and goes about trying to do things with blurred vision and everyone's like "just put ur glasses on?". sirius is the only one who really gets used to seeing james without his glasses, remus and peter like it better when he has them on.

child james gives me allergies vibes. learning to ride a broom with terrible hayfever, eyes streaming so he can't even see through his glasses but he just keeps flying anyway. eats a strawberry and turns green. magical allergies are actually very funny to think about and easy to solve (i'd assume) so probably something he outgrows but james being a constant source of terror to his parents

idk if this is really a canon compliant headcanon or just canon but james has a very bad time at godric's hollow and is just a bad version of himself. pent up, irritable, quiet, tries not to be moody but can't really muster up much excitement or pretend that it's normal to have to go into hiding, mostly tries to be grateful he gets to be with his kid all the time but it makes him restless and when james is restless he gets anxious, has no outlet, he has too much time to worry about his friends. this is why i think james and lily would break up, they're the og lockdown divorce. it just makes sense

#james potter #ask

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sprinklrsplashes · 2 years

Text

oceans and engines | b.b

Summary: Bradley’s leaving for the naval academy but that means leaving behind his girlfriend

Pairing: college!Bradley x ofc (character has no name, except mentions of nickname, Dove)

Content warnings: 18+ readers please, angst, kinda smut (aka, not explicit), religious references

A/N: I have had major brain rot since I’ve watched Top Gun: Maverick, someone pls help me. I was listening to Oceans and Engines by NIKI and I had this idea for a while. I haven’t written in god knows how long so it’s probably terrible but I think I may have an idea for a part 2 so I may or may not write more, depending on how much actual work I get done in the next few weeks. So anyways, I hope you enjoy!

"So Naval Academy, huh?" She looked over to the voice next to her and shot them a look. "I'm just saying long distance is hard and with the kind of training he's gonna get, it's gonna be harder."

She didn’t need to be told this; it’s not as if she hadn’t been thinking about it for the past 2 months since Bradley’s acceptance letter had arrived in the mail. “We’ll be fine,” she bites back before downing the rest of the drink and pushing through the throngs of people to find her boyfriend. She spots him at the bar doing shots with his friends in the flight suit costume that they had bought him. He looks good, she’ll give him that (but then again, if he can look good in those horrendous Hawaiian shirts, he can look good in practically anything), and most notably, he looks the happiest he has been since, well, maybe since the 3 and a half years she had known him. Bradley belongs up in the air, has been since he was about 2 years old and that was the one thing that she loved about him; she had never met someone who was more sure of themself than Bradley Bradshaw. But now, looking at him from across the bar, there’s the selfish part of her that wishes that there was some doubt so it wouldn’t be so easy for him to go. But that was unfair because while Bradley belonged in the air, her heart lies with music and if anyone asked her to give that up, she wouldn’t go down without a hell of a fight.

He spots her from the bar and motions her over to which she smiles and shakes her head. She doesn’t want to be the one to put a damper on Bradley’s night, especially with his friends. All she can think about is how she wants to spend the last few moments they have together entwined in another, not in some dive bar playing 80s music with sticky bar tops and floors. But he pouts and she caves. He could ask her to do anything and she would probably do it no questions asked and sometimes that thought alone scared her more than anything.

“Dove!” he throws his arm around her and kisses the top of her head as he pulls her in. He smells like whiskey and cheap beer, and is clearly intoxicated. He never calls her Dove in public; that was just their little thing. It’s not a big deal but it throws her off.

“What’s with the name?” one of his buddies asks as he looks over at Bradley’s girlfriend.

“That’s her call sign. Y’know like in the Navy. It’s because she’s so kind, loyal, graceful and innocent like a little Dove. D’ya wanna know my call sign is gonna be? Rooster, because I have a big -”

He’s not being an asshole on purpose, Bradley could never, but he is on the verge of acting like one now. And maybe if she was a bit more drunk and having more fun, she’d be laughing along with him and his buddies but instead she sits besides him, arm curled around her shoulder, picking at the label on a beer bottle as she tunes out of the conversation as she wonders is this a bad omen; how is it possible that two people who are so close to each other can be so far away.

When they go home the air feels thicker in the room as they both lie curled up against each other on the twin sized bed they both have seemed to outgrow. Any other day and they'd probably be laughing at how ridiculous they look but neither of them said a word. Both just clinging onto each other, fingers and limbs intertwined, silently counting down the time they have left together. She buries her head into the crook of his neck and shifts, hoping the rustle of the sheets hides her sniffles. It's stupid because both of them knew this day was coming and somehow now that it's here, it hurt more than she had imagined it. There was a part of her that had to admit that maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility that he loved her more than he loved flying and when it came to it, Bradley would stay. He'd leave it all behind for her but that was ridiculous because she also knew that flying was one tie to his father and she could never ask him to let go of that. She loved him but not enough to be that selfish and he loved her but not enough to stay.

"Little Dove," his voice is soft as he languidly strokes her hair, "We'll be okay. We can make this work."

There's a hitch in his voice that makes her think that he doesn't believe it but she doesn't point it out. If he believed it, he wouldn't be crying too. Maybe it would be easier to just to end it here, no hard feelings or bad memories, just two people who loved each other but were on different paths in life and the least selfish thing to do was to let go. But in a blaze of blind optimism at the beginning of the relationship when they were both bright eyed 20-something year olds, they both decided that it was worth a try. There was a possibility that they were right, and perhaps they were that 1% that would pull through but chances were slim and she wouldn't be rushing to place any bets on it.

She doesn't say anything (she's not sure if she can and even if she did find the right words to say, she can't trust that her voice would betray her and say reveal everything that she thought) and hooks her pinky finger against his. Her eyes are glassy as she looks up at him, "Promise?"

Such an innocent word also happens to be one of the cruelest things she could ever say to Bradley. She knows he would never break a promise, especially a pinky promise (those were sacred) but this is one that will inevitably be broken. There's a hesitantly pause and she feels him stiffen against her, and there's a part of her that wishes he'll be the first to break and stop this facade but he echoes her back, "Promise."

Pettiness begins to effervesce deep within but she pulls the stopper before she says something she regrets and the last thing she wants to do is to end their time together in an argument over some silly little words. Instead, her eyes trace his features until she feels like she can remember every single scar, and then she leans up and kisses him. It's soft and desperate in a way that Bradley's never felt before, almost like he was her lifeline and she was trying to hold on.

Her chest heaves as she pulls away, corners of her eyelashes wet and she tries to smile but her eyes don't crinkle into those little crescent moons that Bradley always found so endearing. He found himself counting the colours in her eyes, memorising every single piece of her before he forgets the little details, like the way she always smelt like vanilla with the hint of coconut, the way she crinkled her nose whenever she was embarrassed, or the sound of her laugh. These were the things that he wished he could engrave in his brain forever but sometimes he thinks even that isn't enough.

Bradley presses a kiss to her forehead, then to each of her cheeks, and her nose before crashing his lips against hers. A soft whimper slips from her lips as he pulls away and he wishes he could save that sound forever in his memory. He probably would have teased her that any other day, but today, Bradley just wanted to savour this moment. Her eyes watch him carefully as he brushes her hair out of her face before diving back down to pepper kisses along her jaw to her neck. He knows exactly what she likes and when a moan falls from her lips, she swears she can feel him smirk against her neck. She thinks about the fact that no one may ever know her the way Bradley knows her, inside and out, and that thought alone makes her sick.

But when Bradley’s hands are unbuttoning her shirt, lips slowly moving down as he does so, she can’t help but think of anything but him at this present moment. She throws her head back with a gasp when his tongue flicks across her nipple whilst his fingers flicks the other. He mumbles something against her skin and the vibrations makes her shudder.

“Bradley… don’t tease,” she gasps as she tangles her fingers through his hair, trying to pull him back to her lips.

He looks up at her, pupils fully blown, lips swollen and messy hair. God, she has never seen something more attractive in her life and she loves him so much. “Tell me what you want,” his voice is raspy and that alone nearly makes her drop to her knees like he’s her altar.

“You. All I have ever wanted is you.”

There’s a pause, and she swears that she can see Bradley’s eyes darken before his hands are working underneath her shorts and he’s pressing soft kisses on her hips and down her thighs, ghosting past the places that she wants him the most. He lifts up his head, resting on her stomach with a dazed smile on his face and the way that the light illuminates him makes him look almost ethereal. He could belong in the Louvre but she wouldn’t want to share that image with anyone else. It was hers to keep and only hers.

Her lips part with a gasp when his fingers finally reach her clit after what feels like an eternity. It’s nearly embarrassing how wet she is for him, especially when he’s barely touched her but she needs him too much to care.

“Is this all for me?” Her hips buck into his hand when his finger swipes through her folds, dipping ever so slightly into her entrance. There’s a hint of smugness in his voice when he asks her because he knows what the answer is.

“Yes,” she breathes as she moves her hips, trying to find some relief but he has her hips held down, “Always. No one can make me feel this way but you.”

Bradley seems satisfied with that answer as he grins before diving down like a starved man until she’s shaking and seeing blinding white spots of light. She repeats his name like she’s praying to him for her salvation as she reaches her climax. Knuckles white, clasping onto him for dear life. She’s going to leave marks on his back and the thought of him being marred with little crescent moons on his back and shoulders fill her with satisfaction. It was a reminder that he’s hers (until he isn’t anymore). “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whimpers into the crook of his neck as he rides out his own release.

It doesn’t take long for Bradley to fall asleep; it never does after sex. But for her, she’s never been able to sleep well. Being next to Bradley always helped, but the thought of having to sleep without him keeps her up. He won’t be there to stroke her hair until she falls asleep before he does and she goes through all the things she can try to help her sleep without him. She can do this, she tells herself as she watches him. So peaceful and innocent. She wants to remember him this way before she shatters every piece of his heart but it’s for the best. She has to leave because she knows Bradley would never leave her first. Every person Bradley has ever cared about has always left him so he’ll never be the first one to leave.

There’s a note on the bedside table for when he wakes and she hopes he can forgive her even if he doesn’t understand. She glances at the bed as she pauses at the door, one foot in, one foot out. If he wakes now, he’ll stop her, but he’s still blissfully unaware. The more she waits, the more she can’t bring herself to go, but no, she knows it’s what she has to do. With that, she takes a deep breath, closes the door and walks away without turning back.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fic #top gun maverick #ness writes

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boeswhore · 2 years

Note

015 and 055 for q night :))

15. “what’s wrong? why are you crying?”

55. “you fucking matter, you mean so much to me.”

quintin jerome hughes night

quinn sighs as his call goes to voicemail once again. being on a five game road trip wasn’t easy for quinn to manage when all he had on his mind was you.

you hadn’t responded to a single one of his texts or calls ever since he had left for his roadie. he could almost swear that everything between the both of you was perfectly fine.

“maybe she just got busy. she’s a college student quinn.”

quinn catches the eye of his teammate who gave him a comforting smile, “i don’t know petey. she’s never done this before. i’m just worried.”

elias sighs, before wrapping his arm around the defensemen. “look, i know you’re worried. and that’s totally valid. but i seriously think maybe she got caught up in school work. it’s either that or she needed a break from her phone. she hasn’t answered any of our texts either.”

quinn opens his mouth to retaliate, but elias cuts him off again. “besides, we’re almost home anyways. you can check up on her soon.”

quinn sighs, but rests back up in his seat hoping that bus could drive faster to the arena.

on the other hand, elias wasn’t wrong. college was a workload for you but dating an nhl star defensemen wasn’t the easiest.

quinn was constantly on the road for his career and had so many girls that were in love with him. but i mean you couldn’t blame them. he was worth all the hype.

he could easily meet someone without you knowing. someone who was a better match for him. someone that wasn’t you and as much as you didn’t want your thoughts to take over your mindset, they did and you absolutely hated it.

you sat at your desk, trying to focus on studying for your finals but instead your mind was focused on your insecure thoughts.

the next thing you know, you’re in tears once again as you rest your head against your desk, sobs overcoming your body.

as soon as quinn made his way to the front doors of your shared apartment, he could feel his heart beginning to beat faster. he lets himself in, leaving his bags in the living room as he kicks off his shoes.

his eyebrows furrow in confusion as scans his eyes around the living room. usually your running down the stairs and into his open arms to welcome him.

he gently heads up the stairs, the door to the shared bedroom was slightly cracked open and he could hear your soft sobs.

his heart shattered and he pushes open the door, gently making his way towards you. he crouches down beside you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your back.

you shoot your head up immediately, once seeing quinns concerned face your quick to bury yourself into his embrace.

he lowers the both of you into the floor, he was worried. he didn’t know what to do but just hold you close to him.

“what’s wrong? why are you crying my love,” quinn asks, running his fingers through your hair.

how could you tell him? tell him that you think he’s outgrowing you? that he’s gonna find someone better and you’re going to be left all alone.

you try to say something but a low whine escapes your lip causing quinn to panic. “hey, you’re alright. please don’t cry.”

unable to keep it in any longer you finally rant it all out.

“you’re going to find someone better quinn. you’re doing so well, you’re going to meet other pretty girls on the road and even here in vancouver that are way better than me. i feel like i don’t even do anything. i don’t even matter. i’m just some random girl that somehow got lucky to be dating you.”

quinns eyes widen at your outburst.

how could his girlfriend ever think that way?

“woah? where is this coming from y/n? first things first. i love you. and only you. you have my heart. you have every single piece of it and there is no way in hell that anyone can take it from you.”

he pauses, taking your face in his hands. “secondly, what the hell? where is this i don’t even matter coming from? you fucking matter, you mean so much to me. do you even realize how worried i was when you didn’t answer any of our calls?”

“you’re all i want. you’re more than enough. please don’t think you’re any less than that cause you’re not. you’re perfect. i love you.”

his words bring tears to your once stained cheeks again as you blink away at the tears but quinn is quick to wipe them away.

“you’re all i want.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes blurbs #vancouver canucks #canucks

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veryever · 8 months

Text

I don't care about the Netflix live action ATLA, but it is funny to me that it's likely to go the way of the movie due to the strike.

Netflix is grandstanding any chance of a deal before the end of the year according to reports. And they're not going to renew the live action until it proves itself worth continuing.

So best case scenario pre-production doesn't begin until Spring 2024. Which means they're not going to get back on set until late summer/early fall. Two years after they wrapped on the first season.

And that's best case, it's likely the strike goes on for even longer, and Netflix holds out on a deal. And they need to push the premiere out, and pre-production takes longer, and there's issues wrangling the cast who can't wait around forever for this and needs to work. Because even without a strike Netflix shows end up having development issues always.

Wouldn't be the biggest deal if they weren't working with kid actors, Aang's actor is going to outgrow the role in that time frame, and they're going to have to write in a time jump as is. Fans hate change so, that won't go down well.

And this just what's in the barrel for Book 2. A full-length season is gonna take another 6/7 months to film. Then it starts all over for Book 3. And meanwhile the actors are only getting older and you're having to alter the story more to adapt. And fans only get more unhappy and their attention drifts away.

The most realistic and practical thing I see is them making Book 2 and 3 "movie events" and rushing them through production. And that's obviously going to suck but it'll have lower loss potential.

#atla live action #atla #netflix atla

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likeadevils · 1 year

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Which are the saddest songs from each albums(we know track 5 always doesn't mean sad) and why do you think that?

oooooh

i feel like i need to say the outside for little nine year old claire who would sob hysterically while listening to it, though ttwas is definitely a contender.

the best day isn't necessarily a sad song, but it's definitely made me cry the most. i think breathe is probably the one that is the most purely sad-- most of the other songs are laced in with anger, or that kinda pride you get when you're able to push through heartbreak, but breathe is just. there's nothing you can do

never grow up. in every meaning of the word. its sad because the song is trying to be sad and also sad when you add more context and its sad in a relatable way and in the way you get sad when you have to watch someone you love go through something hard and theres nothing you can do to help and just. yeah its so sad

ronan, far and away. if we're only counting the original, though, then probably the last time-- its just. the added layer of knowing something is bad for you and yet being unable to move on is just. oof

wildest dreams is the most sad on its own, but the combination of welcome to new york and you are in love is just so. the lights are so bright but they never blind me. you can hear it in the silence, you can see it with the lights out. kaleidoscope of loud. other things im probably forgetting-- it just adds this layer of like. taylor convincing herself that the life she wanted was one that was fundamentally inhospitable to any genuine connection, which just. oof

dwoht. the idea of writing a breakup song about someone you are currently dating because you are so convinced that by the time the album comes out you will have broken up is just. fucking sad

soon you'll get better. second place goes to the archer which i sobbed to for four hours straight the day it came out and almost cancelled all my plans because i didnt think i could go three hours without crying some more

i feel like this one really comes down to personal taste. on first listen i would have told you my tears (its not canon but @taylorswiftdebut had a wonderful take on it where she said it was a song sung by all the past versions of yourself that you've had to outgrow, and just. yeah) but peace has really crept up on me (once i accidentally sang will i be enough when i can never give you peace and that little word change just rocked me to my core).

another one that really comes down to personal taste, but happiness is always gonna take the cake for me. almost every lyric is just this knew deeply relatable gutpunch that just. "they'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, too" is such a succinct way to say that it always throughs me off kilter

i almost didnt finish listening to dear reader because that first verse seemed tailor made (hah) to send me into some of the worst decisions in my life and it wasnt til i heard "never take advice from someone whos falling apart" that i was like okay okay okay this is supposed to be bad advice okay okay. does not make it any less of a fucking callout to all of my insecurities though

#asks*

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soulcluster-moved · 2 years

Text

@armatization / cynthia

Gerome,

I'm writing you a letter, because I think it's the only way you'll ever listen to me. At least if it's written down, you can read it over and over again, until you get it in your stubborn head.

I'm never, ever gonna give up on you. I hope you know that. And if you don't know that, reread this until you know that. And one more time for good measure? Got it? Good!

Do you remember when we were little? We were so close. We used to walk around holding hands all the time, and I never left your side. But then you let go of my hand one day and you never held it again. I miss that. I miss you. I know we're not little kids anymore, but I wish you'd hold my hand again. I want you to be there, and I wanna be there when things get tough for you.

I know things are tough for you right now. It's hard for all of us. We're all dealing with it differently, and I know that. But I wish we could deal with it differently together. You know what I mean? You shouldn't push me away because you're scared of losing me. I'm scared of losing you too. I'm scared I've already lost you.

I know we can't go back. We can't be who we were as people, because we're all grown up now. But going forward, I want us to be close again. I miss you so, so, SO much. Please don't avoid me. I just want to help you. I want to be there for you from now on.

If you really, really hate me, that's okay. If you don't say anything about this letter, I'll take it that you really don't like me anymore. That hurts, but sometimes people outgrow each other. Not that I can ever outgrow you. I want to grow WITH you. We were a team once - let's be a team again.

Please talk to me. Even a little. I don't smell that bad. I swear I take a lot of baths, and I'm really clean. Wait that's weird to write. I miss you. I miss us. You don't have to run away anymore. I'm not gonna leave you behind, and I'm not giving up on you, not unless you ignore this letter.

I love you, Gerome. Please come back to me.

♥ Cynthia

Gerome ignored the letter at first, yet like with Cynthia he couldn't keep from staring at it. He'd found it on his pillow just before turning in for the night, but now his plans for sleep were ruined as this letter hung on his thoughts.

Finally, knowing there was only one way forward, he sat on his bed and read it.

As expected of Cynthia, it was long and rambly, and even in the written form he could hear her voice shine in the text. It didn’t take long for the words to start hitting home either. He remembered when they were young and he held her hand, when she taught him to fly and not be afraid of heights. Yet here he was, the same lonely, scared boy he had been all those years ago, clinging so tightly to his fear that he had isolated himself beyond measure.

I’m afraid I’ve already lost you.

That was the point of this entire endeavor. He didn’t want to be thought of as dear or loved, it made it harder to act when it came to the fight against the Grimleal. If an opportunity presented itself, he couldn’t afford to hesitate. His life was forfeit.

So why did it hurt so much when he read it?

From there, he was unable to finish the letter, at least just yet. His sight had begun to blur beneath his mask and he was forced to remove it so he could wipe the tears away. The realization that he was crying at all shook him, and no matter how he tried he was unable to stop the tears. It was like a dam had broken inside him, yet he was unable to piece together what occurred and was left at the whims of the emotions he had repressed for so many years.

Even through his tears, he could hear the shuffle at the entrance of his tent, and knew who it was without looking. Of course Cynthia had been waiting outside, likely eager to see his reaction. Well, she had seen it.

Gerome looked at her only briefly, maskless, tears streaming from his auburn eyes, and then lowered his head and covered his eyes with his hand. Seeing her triggered a fresh wave of tears and his shoulders shook uncontrollably. There was no point in attempting to hide it from her.

#armatization #armatization: cynthia #c: gerome #answered #YOU'VE RUINED ME AND MY MUSE

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the-shy-fa · 2 years

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✔️🔥🌗

Jeez, sorry I missed this! The notifications for inbox messages on mobile have just been sailing right past me for the most part.

✔️ What feedist related kinks (force feeding, vore, inflation, etc) do you enjoy?

Hmm, definitely force feeding, along with like, kidnapping, diet sabotage etc (obvs in fiction or roleplay not IRL, consent is essential).

I like feedism paired with pet play/pig play/hucow stuff where the feedee is treated like either a cherished pet or livestock being fattened up by their doting/remorseless owner. Eating out of a bowl or trough on all fours, having a gain quota to make, etc. Either way it's important that their owner is pleased to see them getting fatter and gets all handsy with them!

Dumbing down paired with getting fatter can be fun too though I wouldn't say it's a major kink and I'd definitely limit it to RP or fiction. I was gonna say "who wants to go through life not being able to think deeply about the world," but then I remembered what the news is like most days... so I'll just say that I don't want to go through life that way.

Basically I really like it when the feedee is having control taken away from them and being fattened up without any real active decision making on their part... for me as a feedee it takes some stress out of the whole business where I feel like people would blame me if they knew I purposely gained weight (which you know, lots to unpack there but that's for a different self-reflective writing exercise). It's hot to have the choice taken away but be rewarded for being lazy and gluttonous anyway (hello anxiety begetting praise kink I guess).

(I mean as a switch I'm also happy being the feeder in most of these scenarios, though I'm not sure I can be as mean to someone else)

Light humiliation and teasing is fun too as long as I know there's actually love behind it.

I like slob stuff (messy eating, being gassy, etc) as a sometimes-thing... I mean I like watching someone eat with abandon and lose control, and subsequently get food all over themselves, and I like acting that out to a certain point, but I have pretty sensitive skin so I definitely would want to clean up before too long if it were me.

On the somewhat more problematic end of things I'm also sometimes into feminization/androgynization of people getting fatter... I like male feedees getting softer and curvier as they gain, dicks getting swallowed by fupas, and a bit of teasing about that stuff, though mostly I think it's just that I like that curvy and soft bodytype more than than dadbod build.

(lol sorry for the novel, I have a lot of subkinks apparently)

�� What's your current favorite feedist/weight gain fantasy?

Hmm... I feel like this changes pretty regularly, but at the moment I'm pretty into like being brainwashed/conditioned to think that getting fatter is good for me and being pushed by a feeder to keep piling it on. Just sort of inverse everything about diet culture and being showered with praise for eating more, with maybe a little light gaslighting to make me think I'm still smaller than I actually am as I outgrow clothes and furniture. Reassurance that I'm definitely not too big and am clearly meant to be even bigger. That sounds nice.

🌗 Do you prefer to be a submissive feedee or a dominant feedee?

Definitely submissive. I consider myself a sub-leaning switch I guess, but my brain mostly associates feeder=dom, feedee=sub. Pushing somebody around with my weight or being demanding doesn't appeal as much as them using my weight and helplessness against me ^^.

#me #shy writes #feedist ask meme #my writing

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

you turn me on (i’m a radio)

bokuto comes over one night midweek while you’ve got the apartment to yourself. after a mishap with his favourite volleyball shorts, you take advantage of the privacy.

c: koutarou bokuto x reader

wc: 5.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), college au, aged-up characters, oral sex (both receiving), praise kink, begging, soft and sloppy sex feat. bo the horny simp giving u the creampie of ur life, body worship if u squint

notes: bo has a fat ass and I have a praise kink. that is all. oh, wait, i should also mention that this is mostly unedited. so if u see typos feel free to point em out! thx 💕

the song this bit is named after is so sweet and sunny & makes me think of bo all the time, so give it a listen if you’d care to! ☀️

ALSO forgot to mention that this was inspired by a tiktok i saw like a million years ago where this girl was helping her boyfriend get out of his too-small rugby shorts. it has been lost to the ether but you better BELIEVE if i ever find it again i’ll be linking it here

EDIT: @karikarasuno the absolute ANGEL has scoured the internet and found the tiktok in question. p l e a s e go and watch it, u will not regret 😌

(MASTERLIST)

“’Kay, okay, I’m going!”

Bokuto tears himself from the tender press of your mouth in one fell swoop. As he whirls away with a tempted giggle, he combs his fingers through his mussed-and-sweaty hair. Practice was only two hours tonight, but he still doesn’t want to leave your side even long enough to shower.

You’ve only been dating for a few months, still lingering in that phase of every new relationship that feels too good to last. Your emotional involvement in one another deepens by the day, but you never fight. And you have a shamefully difficult time keeping yourself away from him. On a weeknight like this with no big assignments to speak of, you should be catching up on your readings, your chores, or even your sleep. But when you passed Bo in the quad earlier, pausing in your walk to class for a hi and a kiss, you’d invited him over before you could even stop yourself.

He’s nice to be around. Pleasant, unhindering. Even if you wanted to finish some readings or do some laundry while he’s over, he’s happy to be idle in your company. He is infuriatingly patient and understanding sometimes, compared to the slew of demanding, needy boyfriends that came before him.

You watch him retreat into the safety of your bedroom, grinning like a fool. He’s fresh out of practice and practically dripping in sweat, dried from the walk you shared from the athletic center. Your evening class that night wrapped up around the same time as his practice, and when you passed the gym doors on your way home, he was already loitering on the steps with his teammates. Instead of pretending he didn’t see you or offering you a casual, passing nod like you expected, he practically bounded down the wide concrete steps and introduced you gleefully to the pack of volleyball players behind him who already knew you well.

There was no way you were letting him go all the way home to shower first. Not when he’s never minded smelling like your orange-and-sandalwood shower gel in the first place.

Once he’s disappeared, you give a yawn and a deep stretch and haul ass off the couch, padding into the kitchen to tidy up the snacks you shared on the way in the door.

You’ve barely got the first plates in the sink before a muffled babe? from the bedroom gives you pause.

“Bo?” You call back, setting your handful down and trying to keep your brow from furrowing too deeply. “You okay?”

“Can you… um…” His response starts off strong, louder than before, but it dwindles into a dull, unintelligible mutter that sounds uncertain enough to send you away from the kitchen.

You gently shoulder the bedroom door open, frowning at his broad shape, silhouetted in the shadowy bathroom doorway from the light behind him. “What’s the matter?”

Feeling along the wall for the light switch, you illuminate the pot lights over your bed.

Bokuto’s cheeks are gently flushed as he waddles toward you with his thumbs dug into the waistband of his volleyball shorts. The fabric is tough and certainly seems clingy, but there’s a strain in his neck and shoulders that takes you a minute to pin down.

“I can’t…” he starts to say, trailing off, then pulls his hands out of his shorts and drops them to his side with a heavy, defeated sigh.

“They’re stuck.”

You force the corners of your mouth downward, tightening the line of your mouth to keep the mirth locked firmly in your throat.

“I can see that.”

He’s been hitting the gym hard lately, shoving down the calories to try and bulk up a little for the upcoming tournament season. And while you know he’s been putting on some weight, since he tells you just about everything, it never occurred to you that he might be bulking up quick enough to outgrow his favourite shorts.

Bo lets out a quiet little whine, digging a thumb into the waistband one more time and prompting you to step forward.

“How stuck are you?” You reach for him. He turns sideways, twisting his chin over one shoulder to try and assess the situation from every plausible angle.

Oh. You slap a hand to your mouth.

The waistband is rolled down around his hips and already strained to its absolute limit, stuck on the sharp swell of his butt and already compressing the flesh in a way that looks genuinely painful. He’s wearing a pair of tight white compression shorts underneath the uniform shorts in question, but they’re not doing much to aid the situation, either.

You’re eager to get him out of those shorts for several reasons now.

“Alright.” You try to keep your voice low, stepping up to his front and gently laying your hands on the stiff cotton roll at his hips. “Let me just-“

“I don’t know what happened,” he whines, slotting his hands on top of yours and squirming in between them. “They were hard to get on, but-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted softly. “We’ll get them off you one way or another.”

The fearful reflection of your sharpest kitchen scissors in his eyes suggests that he believes you.

Your first two attempts are about as successful as Bokuto’s solo endeavours. First, you wedge your hands into the fabric at his sides while he pushes from the front and back, but you give a hard shove while he lets up on the tension and his elbow very nearly connects with your nose, so you try a different approach.

Coming round to his backside, you dig your hands into the space between his uniform shorts and the tight spandex that holds what’s left of his modesty.

“Okay,” you pant, already a little breathless after dodging Bokuto’s flying elbows. “What if I-“

“Hang on,” he prompts, but it’s too late. You wind up and jump as hard as you can, using the downward force generated to try and shove the confining waistband down over his hips. It slides down another couple of inches, and inspiration flares in your chest as Bokuto turns over one shoulder, sweating.

“It’s working!” Your voice comes shrill with excitement, and before he can stop you you’re jumping again, shoving even harder this time. You meet resistance this time, and before you can clue in to what’s pushing back Bokuto howls in pain and doubles over, clasping his palms between his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” You drop to one knee beside him as he descends into pained laughter.

“’S alright,” he promises, “I didn’t want kids that bad, anyway.”

You can’t help the snort that bubbles forward from your chest. Bo straightens slowly as his pain fades, but you stay on your knees, determined to get him undressed without resorting to textile violence.

Determination settles heavy and proud across your shoulders. You look up through your brows at him and when your eyes meet, his cheeks pink softly.

“We got this.”

Bokuto’s throat bobs. He nods shallowly and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

You slip your hands into his shorts again, rolling them slowly down his thighs. Bokuto averts his eyes, letting out another audible gulp. Just when you’re starting to get somewhere, his hips twitch and he shifts his weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

“Stand still,” you scold, giving his hip a little slap. His breath hitches, hands flinching forward as he dips his torso backward.

“Um,” he pants. When you look up at him again, his neck and ears are bright red and he’s got his eyes trained firmly on the Star Wars poster hanging above your desk.

You level your gaze and realize two things.

1) Bokuto’s not wearing anything under his white compression shorts.

2) Apparently, your little scare wasn’t nearly as painful for him as he let on.

“Babe,” you tease. “I’m flattered, really.”

“C’mon!” He protests, scraping his fingers through the wild strands of his sweat-clumped hair. “What’d you think was gonna happen if you got down there all…”

“All what?” You lean forward without thinking, nuzzling the spandex that sits in the groove between his hip and his thigh. He groans deeply, letting his head fall back. His cock, thickening at the base, is still restrained tightly by the waistband of his shorts. You can practically see it throb into its confines, and his groan pinches tight with discomfort.

“Baby, please.” He’s wound his hands tightly in the front of his t-shirt by now, rucking it up over his belly for some way to dispel the tension. “Get ‘em off. Please.”

“You’re not exactly making it easier.”

A desperate whine from over your head suggests that maybe the time for jokes is passing. You abandon all coyness and tuck your hand under the weight of his balls, gently tugging down on the waistband and freeing all of him from its confining pressure. Bokuto gasps and lets his hips swing forward, but his dick swells quickly to fill its new, spandex restraint and you figure you’d better work quickly.

“God, this is really turning you on, isn’t it?” You can’t help the eagerness in your tone as you attack the swell of his hips one last time. With all his sensitive parts in the clear you don’t have to hold back, wedging and wrenching until the widest part of his pelvis is free and the shorts drop to the floor with a soft little triumphant rustle.

Bokuto groans like he’d just been strapped to a time bomb, stepping out of the fabric and kicking it towards the door. He drops the hem of his shirt and reaches for you, but you’re already leaning in to nose against the crook of his thigh some more, peeling down the stretchy, forgiving top of his compression shorts.

“Wh- babe.” He flushes. “I haven’t showered-“

“Don’t care,” you hum, entranced by the hypnotic length of his shaft, white spandex stretched sheer and dabbed with wet at the tip. “Want to taste you.”

“Are you s- oh, you’re sure.” His hands surge forward, this time soothing lovingly over the crown of your head as you tug the stretchy fabric down to his knees. His cock bobs eagerly against one thigh, unaffected by its confining endeavour, and you lean in and seal your mouth against the seam of his groin, where his shaft meets his body.

He is bulky and broad, thick cords of muscle and fat spanning his thighs and torso. His thighs and pelvis are dusted all over with wiry silver hair, and you bury your nose into the trimmed patch of it over his cock, licking eagerly at his soft skin.

Above you, Bokuto shudders hard enough to buckle his knees while you trace your hand up the stiff length of him. You’re trying your best to hide just how deeply you want to breathe him in, the addicting musk of his sweat filling your brain and sending deep throbs of arousal straight to your pussy.

“So hard,” you groan into his hip, “just from letting me get on my knees for you?”

He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing at the back of your head as his eyelashes flutter. His face is beet red from nose to hairline now.

“W-well, what else was I s’posed to- with you lookin’…” He is borderline incoherent, and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Adorable.

“You smell so good,” you murmur without thinking, flicking your eyes to his quickly when you realize what you’ve said. But it only serves to push his own arousal further, cock throbbing palpably between your fingers as he curses quietly through his teeth.

“Please,” he groans, letting his head roll back. “Don’t tease.”

You can’t deny a request as pleasantly worded as that.

After planting one more teasing kiss along the plane of his shaft, you draw back to his tip and give your tongue an enthusiastic flick, dipping it into his weeping slit. He yelps, and you swallow him down before he can ride out the shock, making him shiver. You can feel the tremor racking all the way down the column of his spine, his toes curling on the floor by your knees.

When you start to bob your head, his jaw goes completely slack. You’re learning to love the way he doesn’t hold back with you, a point made obvious by the expressions crossing his face as you settle into a steady rhythm. You can’t fit his entire length- impressive, not that he knows it- into your throat, but when you grip the base of his shaft with one hand and the spit from your throat drips eagerly between your fingers, he practically goes cross-eyed.

You fight the urge to smile around him, leaning into the way he fusses and grips at your skull.

“Nggh, babe, not gonna last long… when… suckin’ like that.” He’s grabbing your head with both hands, rocking his hips tightly forward in time with your gaudy slurping. You’re drooling all over your hand, spit dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the hardwood, but his whimpers are growing to obscene levels, punctuated by deep, chesty growls and quiet, slurred praise.

There’s no way you’re going to back off now.

You’ve been with Bo long enough to know his tells, so when his thighs start twitching and his voice pitches from his chest into his throat, you re-double your efforts, intensifying his pleasure until he’s howling and panting like a beast, rocking tightly into your mouth with his abs drawn tight as a bow.

“Ohhh, babe, lemme cum on your tits,” he pleads, slurring every syllable together as he looks down at you with unimaginable bliss mounting in his gaze. “Please, please, please, your tits, lemme cum on ‘em.”

With a smirk touching one corner of your mouth, you drop your free hand between his thighs. Until now it had been braced delicately on his hip, gently mitigating the wild bucks and twitches of his body giving into ecstasy. But you’d picked up one little trick that never failed to boost him over the edge- and send him falling that much further as a result.

As you draw your mouth back from his twitching cock, you close your free hand around the heavy sack of his balls- drawn up tight to his thighs in preparation for his orgasm- and give the supple skin a gentle little tug while you arch your back and jerk him off against the swell of your chest.

Bo’s voice shoots up a twelve-tone as his hands slide from your hair to your cheeks. His fingers tremble as he cups your face, throwing his head back with a wild yowl and wildly humping your fist. The first long spurt of his cum hits you square in the throat, dripping down between your collarbones and soaking the neckline of your tank top as he rides out the powerful waves of his climax. By the time it’s over, his thighs are shaking hard, tough lines of muscle standing out against the silver hair while his cock dribbles ripe streams right down your shirt.

He deflates with a heavy, heady sigh, falling to one knee in front of you and keeping your face gathered between his palms.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he moans, leaning in to capture your mouth and dip his tongue sloppily against yours. As soon as he’s found your lips he skates his hands down your shoulders to your breasts, lovingly cupping and thumbing the tightening buds of your nipples where thick shots of his cum are soaking into the white cotton. You can’t help the shaky little sigh that catches at the back of your throat, or the aching way you lean into his touch.

“G’nna-“ he cuts himself off, dipping his face into your throat. He licks into the tender column of your windpipe, bringing one big palm to the back of your neck to hold your head steady while he tucks his chin in and tastes the wet stripes of his cum that paint your décolletage. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but the long, wet groan he lets into your chest is a pleasant surprise. He slides his hands from your neck to your shoulders to your sides and up the plane of your back, drawing you closer while he laps the mess from your collarbones and neckline.

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the swell of your left breast. “Gotta taste all of you.”

He slips his arms underneath you, lifting you with little more than a quiet grunt of effort as he gets to his feet. He holds you lovingly against his chest, striding slowly across the room and depositing you onto the bed with a smooth little bounce.

You hardly have the space to catch your breath before he braces a knee on the mattress beside you and leans down for another taste of your lips, kissing you slow and loving and skating a palm down your front. He slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingertips across your clit and making you yelp. Chuckling into your mouth, he dips his fingers lower and gasps.

“God,” he sighs. “Shoulda known you were holding out on me.” He sinks his middle finger into your clingy depths while he catches your mouth under his one more time. You’ve been unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, pinned sensuously under his touch, but as he curls his fingers against the restrictive insides of your leggings, you whine deep and slow into his mouth, arching your back to push your hips into his touch.

He doesn’t linger, drawing his hand from you and curling it in the waistband of your leggings instead. You’re slipping your fingers under the hem of your soiled tank top, pulling it up to expose the bare swell of your breasts.

“Let me?” He poses it like a question, pulling your leggings and underwear down and fluttering a kiss to the newly exposed skin below your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, already planting your feet in the fluffy sheets to lift your hips and help him undress you.

He pulls your leggings and underwear down over your hips in one smooth motion, pulling just a little harder than necessary to make you gasp and giggle. Your ass lands on the mattress all at once, punctuated by another handful of mirth that you can’t keep contained.

Bo’s grinning down at you as he balls up your clothes and tosses them toward the hamper like a mid-court basket shot. He doesn’t wait to find out if they made it, though, settling himself between your knees and gathering your hips into his arms.

“So soft,” he purrs, kissing the velvet skin of your tummy.

“Bo,” you whine. It’s your turn in the hot seat, and now the idea of teasing isn’t half as appealing as it was when you were on your knees.

“What? You don’t want me to take my time with you?”

You groan, letting your head flop back against the pillows as your eyes slip shut. Now that he’s got you bare, with his breath puffing hot and wanting over your tender skin, it’s hard to focus on anything but what you want.

“Don’t be mean,” you whine, but the hot press of his tongue on your inner thigh shuts you up fast. He moans low and rumbly against the damp of your skin, sinking his teeth gently into the fat of your thigh and giving a noisy suck.

“You’re so ready for it,” he muses, eyes darting sideways to admire your weeping slit. The buzz of his voice shoots right down the column of your spine, vibrating pleasantly at the base of your tailbone and sending goosebumps racing up your torso.

“Man,” Bo sighs, planting one hand on each thigh and pushing them apart. “You must really like suckin’ me off, huh?”

“I swear,” you grit. “I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t-“

He doesn’t waste another minute, leaning down and sealing his mouth greedily over your slit. The payoff is there for both of you, if the sound he makes when he dips his tongue between your folds is anything to go by.

The relief comes on swift wings as soon as he lets his tongue wander, stoking the fire that had been burning dangerously low and hot in your gut. Your thighs twitch in toward his ears while he tastes your messy slit, but his palms are as strong as shackles, keeping you open and vulnerable for him.

Bo prods his tongue forward, pressing inward as far as he can with a tiny little strained groan of effort. You cry out and clamp down around his tongue like a vice, a reaction he feels so vividly it makes him whip back from your body with a laugh.

“Don’t stopppp,” you plead, but his face is already disappearing between your thighs again, and you wrap your fingers in the hem of your tank top while he re-focuses his efforts on your swollen clit. He’s pressing his hips forward in a slow tempo that matches the patterns he tongues between your thighs, softly humping the mattress in time with your pleasure.

You’re sensitive and ready for him, stomach tightening smoothly when he settles into a rhythm. His technique is sloppy but he makes up for it in eagerness, pausing only to take deep breaths through his nose. He smiles into your skin and you can feel the way his mouth twitches against you, making you arch your back and slide one hand between your legs to rake through the silvery strands of his mussed hair. He grunts hard against your clit and you jump, giving him the chance to slip his hands under your thighs and hook them over his shoulders.

When he swallows you down this time, there’s something in the changed angle that drives pleasure straight down your back, letting it reverberate all the way into your toes. You flinch hard between his hands, and as he settles back into his messy, enthusiastic rhythm, you feel the telltale twinges of your building climax.

“Bo-“ you choke on his name.

He flicks his gaze to yours and his eyes flash, bright and golden. He knows your tells, too, and he sinks his fingers into the fat of your thighs, re-doubling his efforts and sucking a languid rhythm into your needy clit.

“Fuck,” you sputter. “Fuck, f-fuck, I-ah-“

Your mouth drops open, but the scream dies in your throat as white-hot pleasure bursts through your veins. Bokuto is heartbreakingly persistent, keeping up his ministrations while you claw at his hair and clamp your thighs down around his temples and ride the waves of your orgasm as gracefully as possible. By the time the sharp, burning pleasure’s raked its way through you, all your limbs have gone tense, and when it’s over you collapse, sweat-soaked, to the sheets beneath you.

Bo’s trembling between your legs, and when he surfaces his cheeks and ears are maroon. His cock is still twitching against his belly, bobbing as he gets onto his knees and still weeping long streams of spend.

“Oh.” The word flies from your throat before you can trap it, and he rubs your thighs soothingly with both hands as he takes a shaky, cleansing breath.

“You’re so-“ he starts to say, but you reach for him and he’s got no choice but to dip his cheek into your palm, flushing even deeper at the open way you stare.

“C’mere,” you prompt. Bo takes the bait and flops forward, landing stomach-first on the bed beside you and pillowing his head between your slick breasts. The position ought to be comical, but the weight of him is immensely soothing, rising and falling with the even pulse of your laboured breath.

You lie that way for a long while, staring vacantly past your reflection in the dark window beside your bed. The nighttime chill radiates through the glass, cooling your heated flesh. Your body aches with the fresh sensations of climax, but you’re not ready to put your clothes on yet.

“Bo.”

“Hmm?” It never occurred to you that he might be half-asleep until he winds himself upright, blinking weighty silver lashes against his still-blushing cheeks.

Still, you know how to wake him up. The conspiratory grin that touches your mouth is completely involuntary, and it’s enough to have Bokuto cocking a tired brow.

“Can I ride your cock?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. His eyes grow slowly bigger, focus drifting away from your face as his jaw drops. Literally.

“Bo? Baby?”

“Y- b- I… h-“ he sputters, blinking hard and shaking out his sweaty hair. He looks up at you again with an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Like a kid at the zoo.

“Right now?”

You can’t hold back a snort, shoulders pitching forward. But he’s not kidding.

Neither are you.

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a yes?”

By the time he rolls over, his cock’s already half-hard again, swelling against the strong cord of his right thigh. He sits up, scooting himself comfortably back against your bed’s stacked pillows. And when he reaches for you, you’re already rooting through the nightstand for supplies.

Bo’s a big dude, in every conceivable way. And while he’s never exactly been shy about that fact, he’s also painfully aware of the fact that with great power comes great responsibility. So when you start to warm a dollop of chilly water-based lube between your fingers, he doesn’t flinch.

“Mmmf.” He pushes his hips into your hands as you wrap them around his shaft, letting him swell into your palms while you slick him up. He’s still tender from before, and when you shift onto your knees your clit’s still tensing with leftover pleasure, but you’re buzzing with want. It hangs thick and heavy in the air between you. You’re unwilling to let it dissipate until you’re both completely satisfied.

By the time you’ve got the lube spread evenly from his base to his tip, Bo’s fully hard for you again, flushed and panting and grabbing at your hips as you scoot forward to straddle him. His impatience should probably bother you, but at this point it’s just endearing.

“Hmm, you’re so close,” you say, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. His mouth drops open as you bring his tip to your ready sex. Your pussy clamps involuntarily around the swell of his weeping head, and you’re panting into each others’ mouths as your hips sink slowly backward. The fill of him presses up into your belly, and you bottom out with a little flinch of discomfort, settling your thighs over his. He’s long enough that it actually hurts to take him in all the way like this, but you’re willing to put up with it for a minute while you get adjusted.

“Look at you.” Bokuto’s eyes rake up and down your trembling form, keeping time with his strong palms that rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips. You shift a little, making him twitch and grunt. His thighs strain, struggling to keep from bucking upward against your tender cervix.

He lets out a deep, shaky sigh through pursed lips. “You’re so f-fucking perfect, you know that?”

You’re concentrating on tucking your knees underneath you for proper leverage, but he never fails to make you smile.

“I haven’t even started moving yet,” you breathe, bracing one hand on his shoulder. Once you’re stabilized, you lift your hips slowly forward, letting the thickness of him pull slowly from your slick depths. Bokuto’s head falls back against the pillows, beet red with exertion already.

“God,” he groans, bringing one hand around to your ass. “More, baby.”

You swallow hard, grip his hips tightly between your knees, and swirl your hips in a careful, tight little circle. It’s a subtle movement from the outside, but where you’re joined it rubs the thick ridge of his tip along all your tenderest nerve endings, sending powerful surges of pleasure vibrating into your chest.

Bokuto’s feeling it, too, the hard angles of his jaw standing out as he clenches his teeth. His silvery lashes rest heavily over his flushed cheeks, giving you little more than a bare peek of his dark, tawny eyes with the pupils blown wide in ecstasy.

“Just like that,” he prompts when you angle your hips forward, pinning your abused clit against his pubic bone and continuing to grind greedily over his shaft. He interrupts your rhythm with a sharp little pat to your ass, making your hips jump forward and giving him an opening to lower his chin and seal his mouth in the crook of your shoulder.

“Fu-uck,” you whine, looping both arms under his and clutching tightly at his back as your rhythm grows more urgent. You know how to work yourself to the peak easily, using his powerful body and thick cock to your every advantage.

“You’re close already,” he pants in your ear. “Oh, man, I can feel it. Don’t-“ His hips jerk backward, choking him on a surge of pleasure that washes over both of you.

“Don’t hold back for me, baby. I c’n… take it, yeah, that’s it.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear reverberates all the way down to the pit of your stomach, cocktailing with the pleasure you’re grinding out yourself, and when he grabs your ass with both hands and rocks his tip against the gooey-sweet spot on your upper wall, you’re lost.

“Bo,” you whimper, grabbing tightly at the muscles in his back as your thighs start to shake. “Fuck, oh, fuck, ohfuck-“

The peak crests quietly between you, but quickly bleeds into every limb. You’re powerless to do anything but cling to him and whine in his ear as your hips stutter and twitch and grind over his stirring cock. Just when you think the wave is subsiding, Bokuto glides his hips beneath yours again and draws it out into a tight, near-painful shudder. Your vision whites out, then flashes black as you squeeze your eyes shut and lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Fuck.” Bo’s cursing as you come back to the surface, humping shallowly into your spent body. The lube you used squelches obscenely with the handfuls of slick your climax brought forth, numbing your used insides to his desperate thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so- you’re so- ohgod, inside, I-“

He goes completely incoherent as he finds his own pleasure, shoving his hips tightly against yours. His balls draw tight beneath you, thighs twitching as thick, heady warmth fills your belly. You’re addicted to the fullness he leaves in you without fail, the mess between you when he goes slack and you draw your hips backward to let his falling erection slide out of you.

Your roommate’ll be back from the library at any second. You should be getting up and dressing yourselves, making some attempt at feigning innocence before she comes in. But the bedroom door is closed and it’s far too easy to tumble back into the haphazard embrace from before, cum collecting sticky and hot between your thighs as Bokuto buries his face between your tits.

“D’you think they’ll stretch?” he mumbles into your skin, once your pulse has finally slowed to its regular pace.

“Hmm?” In your pleasure-addled haze, you don’t follow. Bokuto lifts his face from your flesh, resting his chin gently on your sternum.

“My shorts.”

Right.

“Uh-“ You have to purse your lips hard, to keep the dumb smile from showing on them. You take a slow pass of air in through your nose and lift your fingers to comb soothingly through his sweaty hair.

“We’ll make them fit,” you promise. “Somehow.”

Before he buries his face in your chest again, you catch the pure, blissed smile that stretches his cheeks. He slips his eyes shut, nuzzling you tenderly and kissing the swell of one breast.

“Good,” he sighs. And then, bare-assed, sweaty and sticky, he falls asleep.

You spy the shorts, still lying in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door. You make a mental note to check the brand and sizing later, before he leaves.

You’ll make then fit again.

Somehow.

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #koutarou bokuto #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n

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engagemachine · 2 years

Note

Sooooo... J's reaction to Taylor wearing those shorts?? I need a jealous joker moment today please feed me girly ty ily

Ah. This post.

The Joker doesn't get jealous—he knows he's got every part of her wrapped around his finger, and everything she does is for him.

What he does feel is possessive; it's the idea of someone else seeing her the way he does—how easy she is, the way her innocence allows her to parade around, looking the way she does, unaware of her own baby-soft sweetness, so oblivious—that's what riles him. It makes his jaw clench, makes his knuckles crack when he draws them into tight fists. She's fucking stupid if she thinks she's leaving the house looking like that, dressed in those shorts.

He watches her from the doorway, flitting around her room like a little bird, the strap of her purse snug between the valley of her breasts, one shoe still untied, her heel hanging out the back before she manages to push it in. She's bending down to tie the laces at the same time she blows on the nails of her right hand, trying to make the polish dry faster. Baby pink. She's liked that color lately.

She has no idea he's watching her, not until she feels the penetrating weight of his stare, and she looks up, startling at seeing him there, leaning up against the doorframe.

"Going somewhere?" he asks.

She must sense the irritation laced within his voice, and she recoils a little, biting her lip.

"Just to the grocery store, Mr. J. I wanted to get ice-cream for tonight, and a sharpener for my colored pencils."

She looks a little wary as she watches him push up from the door frame, amble into her room.

"Gee, you shoulda just asked," he says. He picks up a little knickknack from her dresser, some glass ornament, a little baby angel with wings. He snorts. How apt. "Daddy can sharpen those for you," he says, lowering his gaze to where she's still knelt on the floor, on one knee.

Taylor flushes—even after all this time, she still flushes. It's one of her most endearing traits, the true mark of her innocence, perhaps the one thing she'll never outgrow.

"They're really fancy pencils, Mr. J." She finishes tying her shoe and then slowly stands, watching him. "I don't want you to ruin them."

He doesn't say anything in response, and instead takes pleasure in the way she squirms in the resulting silence. She'll worry she will have offended him, saying that. She fiddles with the strap of her purse, then bites down on her lower lip, her little nervous tic. His eyes are dark as he puts down the glass figurine—perhaps with a little more force than is strictly necessary, if the way she jumps is any indication.

"The only thing I'm considering ruining are those sorry excuse of a pair of shorts you're wearing right now."

Taylor's face turns beet red. Her hands draw instinctively behind her back, as if just realizing how much her ass cheeks are hanging out. Like she forgot. Like she didn't know.

"I—I was gonna change—"

He arches a brow. "Were you?" he challenges. "After you put on your shoes?"

Taylor huffs, then, caught red-handed in a lie. It's almost amusing how quickly her features shift into a look of utter irritation.

"It's just a quick trip to the store!" she blurts, like that could possibly be a justifiable excuse for her ass-baring short-shorts. She might as well be wearing panties. "I wasn't even gonna take the bus. I'd be gone thirty minutes, tops."

The Joker works his mouth, looking at her, and it has its intended affect. She takes a small step back, towards the bed, employing her primary defense of choice: physical distance.

As if that could ever stop him.

"Just who is it that you're looking to impress, I wonder? You got a raging hard-on for the bag boy? Maybe the guy behind the butcher counter? The way he, uh, pounds his meat? Does that really do it for you? Get you all hot and bothered?"

"No!" she shouts, embarrassed, as if offended by the mere suggestion. "No, of course not."

She takes another step back—the backs of her knees bumping against the mattress—as he leisurely prowls closer. When he's standing in front of her, he hooks his finger into one of her beltloops, viciously tugs her closer, and revels in the sound of her shocked gasp.

"Don't let me catch you wearing this shit again," he growls, "unless you plan on wearing it while I'm fucking you."

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #Mr. J

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sckyie · 3 years

Text

word count: 2.1k

genre + warnings: slight angst + family fluff; slight arguments between bo & gf, dad!bokuto, mom!reader, sharing a bed w/family

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: im not even gonna apologize im like so bad at posting on time

It was a hard break up between the two of you. Although it was mutual, the after effects was worse. You found out you were pregnant, postpartum depression, constant court battles, and struggling with just to put food on the table. In the end, with Keigo at now three years old, you two had shared custody of him.

You had finished cleaning up Keigo's room from it being empty the past week. You had just built him a new bed from him outgrowing the last. After putting away your cleaning supplies, you walked to your bedroom to crawl into your sheets. You slowly drifted to sleep thinking about how empty the house felt when your son was gone.

Even if you grew used to the lonesome halls, you didn't like the quiet halls all to yourself. You missed having someone to come home to but since the break up and since Keigo, you hadn't thought about a relationship for a while. All the while your ex had fully moved on.

Bokuto had a new girlfriend, new house, and had moved on in his career. To him, you were nothing more than his kid's mother, or so you thought. There were times where he missed having you around and he sees pieces of you through his son. But, nonetheless he moved on and finds himself with struggling now.

"You can't just say that about Keigo!" Bokuto argued. "My son comes before everything, before you, before my career-"

"Before me? I'm your girlfriend! Why should that bastard child come before me?" Yui yelled. "He shouldn't even come before his mom. I don't understand why she even matters so much to you anymore!"

"She's my son's mother of course she matters!" Bokuto was fuming hearing these words coming out of her mouth. "Don't ever call Keigo a bastard child! Get out of my house!"

"Like hell I'll leave! I'm not moving! You either pick me or that little monster." She yelled. Bokuto raised his eyebrows and scoffed. Without speaking, he picked up his keys and wallet. "Where are you going?"

"Taking my son away from you," He glances back.

"Oh yeah? And where would you even go?" Yui says.

"Like hell I'd tell you," He says. "When I get back though, all your things better be gone. If anything of mine is missing, I'm suing you. We're done."

Bokuto continued on to his son's room and the anger boiling in him diminished after seeing his sleeping figure. He slept just like his father, his body sprawled all over, his toy lamb in one hand and drool down the side of his face.

"Keigo, hey buddy," Bokuto carefully woke his son up.

"Mm? Is morning Papa?" Keigo stirred.

"No, bud, we're going to Mama's," Bokuto says. Keigo instantly perked up. Just like his dad, his immediate amount of energy got him ready to see his mom. "We're gonna stay at Mama's for a while so only take your bag and your lamb for you to sleep-"

"Are you sleeping at Mama's?" Keigo rubs his eyes, holding his stuffed sheep close to his side. Bokuto nods, putting some of his son's necessities in his bag. "Why?"

"Yui and I are...not being nice to each other right now. Papa just needs to stay somewhere else," He says.

Bokuto carried his sleepy son to the car passed Yui to avoid any questions from him. Though, he did as more and more questions throughout the car ride. "Papa look Lamb-Lamb is driving like you," He shows off his toy. "Wait Papa? I thought Mama and Papa don't like each otver."

"It's not that we don't like each other baby, Mama and Papa used to love each other so much, that's how you were born..." Bokuto paused. "It's just Papa hadn't showed Mama he loved her enough that we chose to spend time apart. It's okay baby, I just hope Mama will let us sleep over."

Pulling into the driveway, Bokuto looks at the clock and sees how late it is. Letting out a big sigh, he goes to help Keigo out of his car seat. His little hand wraps around his dad's finger as they walk the path up to your front door. Keigo plays with his shoes as Bokuto nervously fiddles with his keys.

The door rang as you stirred in your sleep. You pulled off your comforter and turned to your alarm clock to see that it was past midnight. Knowing you had work tomorrow, you were irritated to check the door. Who could possibly be here at this hour?

You threw on a cardigan to cover your pajamas and walked into your cold living room. You peeked into the peephole and saw a familiar tall figure with a little boy clinging onto him. You quickly open the door, confused to see the two.

"Mama!" Keigo practically jumps into your arms.

"Hi Bubbas, what are you doing here so late?" You ask.

"Yui and I got into an argument and she said some...choice words about Keigo. I told her to leave and she gave me an ultimatum. So we left and now we're here," Bokuto scratches the back of his neck.

"Can we stay wif you Mama?" He says into your neck. "Papa and I don't wanna stay with Yui."

"Of course you can stay," You say putting Keigo down, letting him hug your leg as you turned to Bokuto.

It was awkward to say the least. Spending the night with your ex-fiancé can't be that bad right? "Kotaro you don't mind sleeping in the living room right?"

"No! Papa and Mama sleep in the same room!" Keigo tugged at your shirt. "I wan Papa to sleep next to you because Mama's and Papa's always sleep next to each otver. Like how Yui sleeps next to Papa!"

"You're so smart, Bub," You gritted your teeth. "But Papa isn't with me remember? He loves Yui, so he can't sleep next to Mama." You took a look at Bokuto but could tell he was uncomfortable at the sound of his now ex-girlfriend's voice.

"Please?" Keigo's eyes began to water, hinting that he wasn't just tired but he wanted his way too. "I wanna snuggle in Mama's bed with Papa."

You looked at Bokuto, both of you felt guilty if you had turned your son down. It was just for one night, right? You guided the two boys to the room and flicked on the lights for Keigo to find his way. "Papa look at Mama's big bed!" He runs and jumps into the center of the king size bed. "It can fit all of us!"

Bokuto chuckles at your guys' son and sits on the left side of the bed. Keigo notices and began to whine and push his dad off the bed. "Woah bud, I thought you wanted me to sleep with you guys, why are you pushing me off?" He asks.

"Mama sleeps on that side," He points out.

"Ko, can you turn on the lamp?" You ask, shrugging off your cardigan. You flick off the light, leaving the dim light beside your bed. Your ex-fiancé and his mini-me both yawn in sync as they adjust the sheets. "Let get some snuggles bubbas."

"I love you Mama," Keigo kisses your nose once you laid in bed beside him. He flips over and kisses Bokuto's noses and whispers, "I love you Papa."

The three of you slowly drift off into sleep. It was a peaceful thing. The three of you asleep together like a family for the first time. Bokuto had shifted in his sleep to hold onto both you and Keigo. Both your legs intertwined and your bodies encompassed each other's warmth.

Bokuto was the first to wake up. He woke up to the blinds letting sunlight hit his eyes. He slowly looked around the orange tinted view and spotted you directly in front of him. Keigo had snuggled close to your chest like he always did whenever he was sleeping in bed with you. Bokuto smiled when he saw you like this. Though he didn't say it, he knew.

He was still in love.

You were his first love, his first true love that he could show off to people. The type that made people feel jealous that you were even a couple. It wasn't anything bad between you two when you broke up. Just time, Bokuto couldn't manage any of it. He wasn't showing you he loved you like he did. He didn't make time for you. He didn't know when to show up for you. It wasn't enough and so you broke up.

You slowly woke up with your body regularly waking up to the early morning. Your fuzzy vision locks onto Bokuto's figure and you smiled slightly. You rubbed your eyes to focus your sight and saw him smiling back at you. "You still snore," You pinch his nose and carefully shift out of bed not moving Keigo. "I have to get ready for work. There's coffee in the kitchen and food in the fridge. Keigo's not going to wake up until around nine, so you can make breakfast if you want."

"What are you going to do?" He asks as he moves a piece of hair out of your face.

"Shower, now shoo," You say. You walked into the bathroom locking the door behind you. Your cheeks were bright pink while Bokuto threw up his hands hiding his face.

Once out of the shower, blow dried your hair and got dressed. Just in time to hear Bokuto calling you that he made you coffee. "Here, just how you like it," He serves. You accept the cup sipping on the beverage, trying to ignore the tension between you two. "You can go to work early, I can take Keigo out today since I have the day off."

"Maybe I should take a day off for a family day," You laughed.

"Keigo'd like that," Bokuto suggested.

"I know he would but...I'm just...y'know," You hesitate.

"I know," Bokuto responds. "But, I'd rather spend one family day with you than anymore with Yui."

"Is that true?" You ask, fiddling with your mug. Bokuto hummed in response. He took a step forward to lean beside you on the counter. It was a strange feeling. "Ko...Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, something bothering you?" He sipped is coffee.

"Do you...still...think about me?" Why were you asking this? It's not right to be asking this but you wonder if you're still on his mind. At some point in time you were there the love of his life, so could there be a chance?

"Everytime I look at Keigo," Bokuto says without hesitation. That's when you felt it. A flutter in your heart told you there was still hope for the two of you. The glow on your cheeks spread as you go to message your boss about your day off. You looked up to see Bokuto gleaming as you finished typing. "Thank you Y/n," He says. You smile back but something in the air shifts between you two.

Your eyes meet. The wholesome smile fades and the nostalgic feeling of your past relationship is brought back with a single look. Before you knew it, you both found yourselves leaning over the counters. Your breath just grazed over his lips before placing it on his. It was almost like putting the last piece in a puzzle. Both your lips moved together as if you two had never broken up.

What were you doing? You knew kissing your ex-fiancé was wrong but you weren't stopping yourself. Bokuto's hand rested on your cheek as you deepened the kiss. He hummed as you two felt one another's lips after so long. Only until you heard the bedroom door open, you pulled away slowly. "Mama? Papa?" Keigo asks sleepily. He drags Lamb-Lamb on the floor as he enters the kitchen looking for his parents. Bokuto smiles at your rosy cheeks before kissing your nose and walking to pick up his son.

"Good morning buddy," He kisses Keigo's cheeks.

"G'morning," He says groggily.

"Good morning my Bubbas," You smiled walking over to greet your half awake son. You peck his cheek as he rubs both his hands along your warm face. "You wanna spend the day with Papa and I?" His eyes light up and nodded excitedly.

"Can we go to the beach, Papa? I wanna show Mama how I spike!" He asks very excitedly. The three of you continued to discuss your day plans with thoughts of breakfast, volleyball, and lots of giggles. Little did you know, that this was the first of many of your family days. That old nostalgic love was blooming once again from this single morning.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

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justcourttee · 4 years

Text

The Ice Queen

So, @long-lost-peace was messaging me and they came up with this brilliant idea that Marinette leaves Paris and transfers to the school that Felix attends. When the class visits one day, they’re shocked to see the Marinette they once knew is gone, and in her place is an Ice Queen.

This is Felinette and my best attempt at doing their amazing idea justice.

Marinette had no idea how she had gotten there.

Well, that was a lie. In all honesty, it had happened so fast. The minute she told her parents that she was applying for the design program in a London school, they were more than happy to help her pack weeks before she even received her acceptance letter. They knew she needed a break from the school and what better way than throwing herself into something she loved?

The train ride was only two hours and sixteen minutes.

Her parents helped her set up her new room in the campus suites and exchanged tearful goodbyes before she found herself alone soon enough. She took it upon herself to explore the new city, snapping pictures and jotting down all of her quick bursts of inspiration that came from the beauty of the sights. When she had returned, she found a small brunette rummaging through her closet as if it were her own.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but can I help you with something?”

The girl didn’t even bother responding as she pulled out a top, holding it against herself for a moment before shaking her head, placing it back in the closet. Marinette looked down at her purse where Tikki’s head was peeking out in curiosity, their head cocked to side much like how Marinette looked.

“Well, uhm, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I am assuming you’re my roommate?”

The girl finally looked up from her rummaging, offering Marinette a half cocked smile.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. You’re the new fashion major right? Do you think you could help me pick out an outfit that would impress even the most stone hearted person?”

Marinette opened her mouth but shut it just as quickly as the girl pulled out yet another one of her tops.

“Is that a no fashion major?”

Marinette shook her head, trying to regain her voice.

“I’m sorry but could you stop going through my clothes?”

The girl shrugged before stepping backwards, taking a seat on the edge of Marinette’s bed. “My name’s Kayla, guess I kind of forgot that. Anyways, I need your help, new girl. Felix is coming to the party tonight and he’ll never notice me if I keep dressing in the same drab. I need something new and exciting, can you manage that?”

“Kayla! I thought we were going to greet her together!”

Marinette spun around to face the girl that stood in her doorway pouting. Her head was swimming as two girl’s bickered about her arrival, completely oblivious to the shade of pale she had turned.

“-you are just so rude! I mean going through her clothes without her permission? A woman’s closest is an extension of their soul and, hey, Marinette, are you alright?”

Marinette’s eyes came back into focus as she loosened the tight grip she had on her purse. She managed a small nod, before lowering herself into the chair by her desk.

“Okay good, omg, where are my manners? I’m Delilah! And I’m sure you’ve already met Kayla, I’m so sorry in advance, my friend has no personal boundaries and refuses to learn them.”

Kayla simply shrugged from her spot on Marinette’s bed, her eyes still scanning her closet as if willing the perfect piece to fall into her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you both, I’m sorry it’s just, it’s my first day here and-”

“And that’s perfectly okay! You take all the time you need to get ready for the party tonight and if you need any help at all, Kayla and I are right down the hall! Let’s meet in the living room at 7 so that we can all go together kk? Great!”

Without another word, Delilah gathered Kayla’s arm pulling the girl out the door before she could protest, slamming it shut behind them. Marinette waited a moment to be sure no one was going to pop back in before she opened her purse, allowing Tikki to fly out.

“Oh my, they were very lively huh?”

Marinette simply shook her head, a tired smile gracing her face.

“Tikki, I think I need a sympathy nap for Delilah. I mean, she talks so fast and in such an upbeat manner, I don’t know how she can keep that up for hours on end.”

The kwami chuckled, their eyes scanning over Marinette’s room.

“Wow Mari, this room is huge! You can totally keep up like three projects just in that corner alone!”

“I know Tikki! This school takes their majors very seriously. If I remember right, Delilah is a gymnastics major and Kayla is a business one. I wonder how their rooms look.”

“Well, why don’t you go find out?”

Marinette shook her head as she stood, taking the few steps before collapsing face first on her bed.

“Nap first. If I’m going to some party tonight, I need this time to recharge.”

Tikki rolled their eyes at Marinette, opening their mouth to sass the young girl, but closing it instead upon seeing their chosen one already knocked out.

“Sweet dreams Marinette.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Delilah wasn’t joking.

She was already standing in the living room at 6:50, her foot tapping away as she waited for her roommates to join her. She practically had a heart attack when Kayla was one minute late, dragging both girls by their hands down the stairs in full lecture mode.

“-and we’re gonna miss him arriving! You know he always is so over the top!”

Marinette had no idea who this ‘him’ was, but it was beyond obvious that both girls were crushing hard. She tried to remember the name Kayla slipped earlier, but her brain refused to provide it to her. She simply listened intently to their many stories, biding her time until she could meet the mysterious him.

“Ah, we’re here. Quick, ladies, how does my hair look? You know Felix is a perfectionist, he can’t have his future wife with one strand of hair out of place.”

Kayla muffled her laughter with her hand as she helped Delilah brush a few strands behind her ear.

“You know Delilah, he can only be your future husband if he chooses you over me right?”

The girl’s face morphed into one of mock hurt as she placed her hand dramatically over her chest. Marinette couldn’t focus on their interaction though. Instead her head was somewhere else.

They couldn’t mean Felix Graham de Vanily right? She wasn’t that unlucky to transfer out of one school that housed Lila into another that housed Felix right?

“Omg, there he is!” Delilah’s squeal broke her thoughts as Marinette turned slowly to where both girl’s gazes sat. Instantly, she felt her heart stop.

“Hi Felix! Have you met Marinette yet? She’s my new roommate!”

Marinette’s face reddened as she tried to back step and hid behind Kayla, but both girl’s were insistent on showing her off. She saw Felix’s eyes narrow in on her, only confirming what she already knew.

“Marinette right? Would you care for a dance?”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. What did he have planned? Felix was no gentleman offering the new girl a good time, no, he was a lying and deceitful scoundrel who couldn’t be trusted and-

“She would love to!” She felt Delilah’s hands on her back, pushing her into him. Her panicked eyes shot back to where the two girls stood giving her thumbs up. If only they knew.

Felix led her to the middle of the floor, his hand resting at the base of her back as they gently swayed to the music.

“Dupain-Cheng, tell me, do you desire my cousin so much that you had to move to London in hopes of the distance making him long for you? It’s quite the elaborate plan.”

“Excuse me? Exactly how pathetic do you think I am?”

“Do you want me to honestly answer that question?”

Marinette cut her eyes to the boy’s smug face, every fiber in her begging her to smack that look off.

“Besides, I don’t even like Adrien any more. He chose what was more important to him and in the end, that wasn’t me.”

Felix cocked his head to the side as if seeing the girl in a new light.

“So you’re done with your sorry crush on my cousin?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Felix’s smirk grew with every passing moment and honestly? It was starting to freak her out.

“Can you please wipe that stupid look off of your face?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he spun her out, drawing her in so that her back was pressed against his chest. His ear dropped down to her ear as her breath hitched in her throat.

“Let me tell you a little secret Marinette. You care too much. Try caring less, it would be a much more fitting look.”

As the song came to an end, Felix released her hand, offering her a mock bow before slipping into the crowd, leaving a flustered Marinette replaying his words on repeat in her head.

It would be a much more fitting look.

She wanted to pull her hair out in frustration. This was only her first night and he was already under her skin. In that moment, Marinette made up her mind. She would avoid speaking to Felix Graham de Vanily for the rest of her time here in London, even if it was the last thing she did. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Unfortunately, her vow didn’t even last one day.

Her roommates swooned over that first night, insisting that she was coming to every hangout as the newest contender for Felix’s affection. She tried to brush it off, tell them she wasn’t interested, but it was useless.

“You two had so much passion when you were dancing, the looks on both your faces, ah, beautiful. Even you can’t deny that he’s pretty!”

Delilah’s words set her fate in stone as she began seeing Felix regularly from lunch dates to movie nights to days out on the town. Their friend group welcomed Marinette with open arms, ready to drag her off at every chance.

When it came to their outings, she almost could attempt to ignore Felix’s smirks and sly comments all thrown in her direction. Her new friends helped her outgrow her fears and insecurities, Felix helped her become better at ignoring and dishing out insults. By the end of her first year in London, Marinette felt better about herself then she had in years.

At least until her teacher pulled her aside delivering the worst news she could’ve possibly imagined.

“Marinette! Your old class from Paris is coming to visit next week and we were wondering if you could translate for them. They’ll be touring our institute before continuing on with the tour of the city and to my knowledge, you are our only student who speaks fluently in both French and English.”

Marinette’s head was shaking before the teacher could even finish her sentence.

She didn’t want to see them again, she had finally gotten to the point in her life where all the damage they had done was gone. It was like a terrible dream, a relapse into her old self. She couldn’t do it, she-

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder bringing her back down from her near panic attack. Sheepishly, she peeked up to where Felix stood, his face unreadable.

“Mrs. James, I would like to translate as well. My cousin is in that class and taught me French quite some time ago. Between the two of us, Marinette and I can take on this assignment.”

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat as she focused in on where his hand still sat perched on her shoulder. What was that feeling of warmth slowly coursing it’s way through her body? No, absolutely not, it couldn’t be.

She watched as the teacher walked away leaving the two of them in an abandoned hallway, a silence filling the space. Slowly, Felix withdrew his hand before shoving it into his pocket, taking off in his usual brisk pace.

Marinette stood dumb founded in her spot, unsure whether to follow when his voice snapped her to attention.

“Come on Dupain-Cheng, we haven’t got all day.”

She shook off her nerves before practically jogging to catch up to the blonde. Falling in line with his pace, she kept her eyes straight forward, even when she felt his fingers interlock with hers. She swallowed hard, willing her heart to stop somersaulting through her body.

“We’re going to face them together okay? We’re going to show them the ice queen that you have grown to be.”

Marinette couldn’t trust herself to speak, instead choosing to nod in agreement.

“Good, after all, this new you is a much more fitting look.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A week came and went and Marinette found herself in front of the school building swallowing her nerves and steadying her face.

Taking Felix’s advice, she ditched her usual pigtails and outfit for a much edgier look complete with a high ponytail and more make up than she cared for. At first, she wanted to argue saying a new look could do nothing for her, but as Kayla finished placing the scarlet red on her lips, Marinette couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror.

The girl looking back was beautiful, confident, and most importantly cold. A befitting look for her new title as Ice Queen.

When the double decker pulled to a stop in front of the school, Marinette’s nerves began to swallow her. She wanted to ditch her position, trust that Felix could handle them and hide in her suite until she was sure they were gone. But a certain hand on her shoulder calmed her every frayed nerve as she straightened her posture, willing her face to remain as unexpressive as possible.

As the first of them began to unload, Felix leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.

“After this, they won’t forget you Marinette.”

He straightened back up, his small smile fading back into his own expressionless gaze.

Alya was the first to recognize her, her face contorting into a look of horror as she shook Nino’s shoulder, pointing him in Marinette’s direction. Slowly but surely, the word spread through the class the Marinette was here, waves of emotion crashing down.

Her old friend began to make her way toward where Marinette stood, but Madame Bustier reigned her back in, allowing the guide to welcome the class through Felix’s translation. Marinette scanned the crowd looking for one face in particular but alas she was nowhere to be found.

Adrien was though. Front and center, his mouth agape as he stared at Marinette’s new look. Through the day, Marinette could’ve sworn she counted over a dozen flies that he caught, but that didn’t stop from his hanging jaw.

It was easy work, translating. She would speak as nonchalantly as she could, never making eye contact and always looking as bored as she could. The waves of agitation spilling from Alya almost made her break character several times, but she kept reminding herself that her and Felix could laugh later, now was for taking a stand.

“Alright everyone, take an hour of free time but please, meet back in front of the school at 3:00 on the dot.”

This was the time Marinette had dreaded. It was easy to fake her new persona when there was nobody to face directly, but this was a different story.

As she thought, Alya, Nino, and Adrien made a beeline for her the minute Madame Bustier had dismissed them. Marinette turned around as if she couldn’t see them, hoping she could outwalk them, but instead she came face to face with a familiar chest.

“A queen doesn’t run Dupain-Cheng. They take a stand and fight. Now turn around, chin up, and let them have it.”

Marinette let out a slow breath before she turned back, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes. Alya collided with her first, crushing her in a hug that Marinette didn’t bother to return.

“Girl we are so sorry, Adrien finally fessed up to us that Lila was lying a month ago and we all tried to reach out to apologize but it said your phone was disconnected-”

“That’s because it was. What makes you think I would want to hear from you now?”

Alya’s mouth blubbered like a fish out of water as she tried to gather her words together.

“Because dudette! We’re friends! And we needed you to know that we’re sorry and that you can come back to school!”

Marinette examined her nails lazily, slightly shaking her head.

“Oh Nino, we haven’t been friends for a while. In fact, I’m only here today because I was asked to translate.”

It was Nino’s turn to gape as he and Alya shared confused looks.

“Marinette, have you spending time with Felix? You know he’s not the best influence, look at how cold he’s made you.”

Adrien attempted to grab her hand, but Marinette pulled it just out of his distance. She felt the fury building up inside of her wanting to explode. She felt an arm fall over her shoulders, lightly pulling her into their side. She risked a small look up at Felix’s face that remained expressionless as he casually pushed Adrien back.

“Marinette! Don’t tell me you’re dating my cousin! I mean, he’s not even your type! I-”

He paused at the sight of Marinette’s playful smile. His eyes widened as she reached up, her hand gently grasping Felix’s jaw, pulling his lips down into hers. The kiss was short, but she swore she felt her head spinning. She was almost positive she would have fainted if he wasn’t already supporting her with his arm.

“But, Marinette, you’re my- we’re uhm-, you and me are friends! You can date your friends’ cousin!”

Marinette felt a smirk pull at her lips at the sight of her former friend’s distress.

“Watch me.”

She turned, ready to walk away, Felix’s arm still round her shoulder, but something stopped her in her tracks. Turning her head back slightly, she managed to make eye contact with the trio, their faces the perfect mixture of regret and confusion.

“Just to clarify. Felix didn’t make me cold, you all did when you turned your backs on me when I needed you the most. A frozen heart doesn’t happen overnight” she paused, her eyes meeting Felix’s, a warmth spreading through her at the sight of pride shining, all for her. “But it can be thawed in one.”

And without another look, Marinette took off, relishing in the feeling of being at her boyfriend’s side.

“Well done Dupain-Cheng, I would be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that I prefer this version of you than the stumbling girl I met years ago.”

Marinette let out a small laugh as she stood on her tiptoes, placing a quick peck to Felix’s now red face.

“I prefer this me too, and lucky for the both of us, the Ice Queen is here to stay.”

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy

#felinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng

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achubbydumpling · 3 years

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Consider this: slightly chubby office worker bucky and lean, muscular steve who has a huge crush on him.

They work in the same department so Steve is always sneaking him food and rubbing his belly for him. Poor bucky keeps outgrowing his shirts and his pants barely go over his ass anymore but he doesn't wanna stop.

Bucky finally has to work from home when he gets too big for his office chair and his belly is almost constantly hanging out. All thanks to steve, of course.

Hello! I'm sorry for only answering this now, buuuuut this ask made me think of a very specific scenario for some reason? So, I hope you'll enjoy reading this... imagine? ficlet? this is neither edited nor proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes

Alright, I immediately jumped to Bucky working from home because he's outgrown his office chair. Maybe he hit the weight limit, maybe he's just gotten too wide to comfortably fit between the arm rests. Maybe he’s a gainer in this? In any case, he applies to work from home, and they grant him the request (anything to facilitate the kink, right? :D)

Rating: Mature Words: 1638 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Stuffing, Belly Kink, nicknames (pig), allusions to masturbation, mutual pining, maybe slight dub-con (Bucky doesn't know he's unmuted and Steve doesn't tell him right away)

The only requirement is that he has to be "on call" the entire workday. So, the next week on Monday Bucky sits down at his desk at home and logs in to the program his company makes him use for those calls.

And of course Steve picks up. The guy Bucky has had a not so subtle crush on since basically his first day. The blue eyed, blond haired subject of all of Bucky’s dreams, who is also the guy that Bucky has been eating his weight in junk over, because Steve keeps bringing in baked goods and Bucky can never say no to Steve.

On the other end of the call Steve is nervously chewing on his pencil until he finally hears Bucky’s warm voice say “Good morning.” A huge grin appears on his face without him wanting it to, but this is Bucky. So, of course he’s grinning like a maniac.

Bucky is just… Steve had tried to explain it to Nat once, but all he’d gotten out was a stupid “wow”, while grinning the same way he was right now. So, maybe he had a bit of an office crush, it’s normal when you spend 8h a day together, right? Bucky’s video feed is off and Steve is glad he didn’t stupidly turn his own camera on. He was debating it while he waited for Bucky’s call.

“So, do I just do my work, while I stay on this call or…?” Bucky asks when Steve didn’t respond. Steve scrambles out of his daydreams and nods. Then he remembers to actually say “Yes.”

“Alright,” was all that Bucky said and then the little red mute symbol pops up. Steve groans and rubs his hands over his face to get rid of that stupid smile.

“What’s up?” Bucky chimes back in, when Steve yelps in surprise, he adds, “you didn’t mute yourself. I could hear you… being annoyed, I think.”

“Sorry, Mondays.”

“Yeah,” Steve hears something crunching, “though my day has actually been pretty good so far.”

“Are you eating breakfast right now?” Steve looks at the clock—9:03 am.

“Nah, post-breakfast snack. I was craving something crunchy like those pig's ears you brought in on Friday.”

“That just sounds disgusting. Just call it a palm heart or a palmier.” Steve said the name of the pastry in a French accent in an effort to make Bucky laugh and when he did, his heart fluttered with a burst of warmth.

“Well, I’m having some cereal to make up for not having any pastries around.”

“Some?” Steve asked. He sobered quickly at the mention of what Bucky was actually eating, he hated how badly he was hiding his excitement at hearing what Bucky was eating. He’d been “subtly” pushing food on him since Bucky had first started working at the office. Steve doesn’t know a lot about flirting, but providing food seemed like a natural place to start.

Except he’s been stuck there for close to a year now. Every day he’d promise himself to finally ask Bucky out when he brings him one of the pastries, he brought in from that bakery on his way to the office, but when he’s actually looking at Bucky’s face, that lights up when he sees the sugary treat, Steve can never work up the courage and just slinks back to his own desk. And now Bucky wasn’t even in the office anymore.

Because you’ve fattened him up too much, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of Steve’s mind. It not like Steve was forcing Bucky to eat what he brought in, but all those treats right there in the break room surely weren’t helping with Bucky’s expanding waistline. Or those lunches they started taking together, where Steve always suggested they go out to eat instead of sharing a packed lunch in the break room. So, yeah, Steve wasn’t really at fault. Then why did he feel so goddamned proud whenever he saw Bucky’s shirts getting too small and the armrests on his chair digging into his plush sides?

Steve snaps back to reality when Bucky starts talking again.

“Just a bowl-full. Well, this is my second bowl, but cereal is pretty much mostly air, right?” They talk (argue) about what’s the best cereal after that, then what Bucky had for breakfast and then they somehow spend the entire morning talking like Bucky was still in the office and not all the way across town. Bucky refills his bowl twice before lunch rolls around at noon.

“Well, I’ll see you after lunch.” Steve reluctantly leaves his desk.

“I’ll be here!” Bucky calls before Steve takes of his headphones and heads into the breakroom to scarf down his lunch. He knows Bucky will probably only get back on the call once he has to work, but some small part of Steve hopes that if he eats fast enough he’ll get to spend at least part of his break chatting with Bucky.

When he makes his way back to his desk, Steve pops his headphones back on, plops down on his chair and immediately freezes at what he’s hearing. Bucky isn’t muted. Steve is listening to Bucky eat some kind of pasta dish, a very saucy pasta dish from the noises he can hear every time Bucky takes a bite and sucks the spaghettis he missed into his mouth. This is Steve’s personal hell, he thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

Steve is just about to tell Bucky he’s unmuted when he hears him say, unmistakably, “Fucking pig.” It can get worse.

“Such a fat fucking pig.” Bucky muffles his moan with another mouthful of food. He must be close to finishing his food Steve thinks, then he blushes at realising he knows what Bucky sounds like when he’s getting full.

Bucky’s headphones must be lying on the desk, because they pick up the slide of skin on skin perfectly and Steve leans closer to his monitor even though there isn’t an image. He presses his hands over his headphones to make sure he hears all the little sounds Bucky is making and then he jolts back when Bucky burps loudly.

Steve’s eyes scan the office to make sure no one saw him jumping around on his chair like a scaredy cat, but no one is around. No one is around to see Steve listen very intently to his co-worker eating lunch. Stuffing himself.— Brain.Steve scolds himself, but then Bucky moans again and Steve can’t help but scoot his chair closer. One, to hide his growing erection and two, because logic has left his brain and he needs to get closer to hear better apparently. Steve turns up the volume and then takes his headphones off to make sure it’s no so loud that anyone walking by could hear the sound.

“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans and Steve can hear his cutlery cluttering onto the desk. He can hear clothes rustling and suddenly the sound of Bucky rubbing his hands over the taut skin of his belly is back. It overtakes the connection for a long moment, that and Bucky’s shallow breathing.

“Best penne and pizza? Yeah, I can believe that.” Steve can hear Bucky’s chair groaning under him. Three suffering clicks from the chair and another pained belch from Bucky.

“If you keep eating like this you’re gonna get fat, Barnes.” Bucky chuckles to himself, “well, fatter.” Bucky exhales heavily, Steve can hear him shift again and his breathing gets heavier.

“Only thing missing is dessert. That’d make a real glutton outta me, not just overeating at lunch, but eating more sugar after,” Steve hears the familiar sound of Bucky popping his button to get comfortable, but Bucky doesn’t stop there, Steve hears the zipper being pulled down too. Steve’s heart skips a beat. Is he gonna—

“Get some feeder to bring it to me, some rich chocolate cake. No, ah, those little cake pops, that— that Steve brought in.” Steve holds his breath when he hears his own name in Bucky’s voice, the emphasis Bucky puts on his name.

“Steve—” He hears a bottle cap being snapped open. Ok, nope, this is too far, Steve decides and reaches for the mouse.

“Oh, my God, Bucky. You’re unmuted!” Steve just about shouts into the microphone. He immediately hears something clatter to the floor and then Bucky swearing.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was just— This isn’t what it looks like. I’m— I was— How long were you listening?” The tips of Steve’s ears are burning and the blush is working it’s way down over Steve’s face.

“A few— just a bit. You said my name.” Steve adds, hopeful, even though Bucky was probably more worried about his co-worker almost catching him jerking off. Listening to him jerk off.

“Great, are we going straight to HR or is tomorrow fine?” Bucky asked resigned.

“How about dinner?” Steve didn’t know where he plucked the courage from, but when Bucky didn’t answer right away whatever ounce of courage had possessed him left just as quickly.

“I’m sorry—"

“No. No, yeah, that’s fine. Great! That sounds good.” Bucky floundered a bit but Steve couldn’t wipe that grin of his face again.

“Tonight?” Bucky added.

“It’s a date.”

#asks #chubby bucky #office au #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #belly kink #stuffing

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