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#but looking how you want should always be an option. sounding how you want should always be an option.
paranoiastudio · 2 days
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pairing: Art Donaldson х f!reader
warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, cheat?
English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes
- Would you fuck me, Art? - You ask point-blank, causing Art to choke on his drink. - If it weren't for Patrick, would you have fucked me?
This conversation should not have happened. You didn’t want to go to this party, but you forced yourself to come. You didn’t want to discuss your relationship with anyone, but Art knew about your last fight with Patrick and approached you himself.
And now, after three bottles of beer and a sincere conversation, you find yourself asking a similar question and understand that stopping now is not an option.
You looked at Art so intently, so alluringly, that he simply could not lie to you. And he decided not to lie, finally admitting how much he was attracted to his friend’s girl.
- I would fuck you right now if you asked. - Art whispers this on your lips.
The air around you becomes heavier every second, you feel the familiar heat in your lower abdomen and lick your lips, only attracting the attention of the man’s gaze to you.
- Would you fuck me?
- Yes. - You answer, perhaps, too quickly.
- If it weren't for Patrick, that's right?
- No. I... I would fuck you now, right here... If you asked me.
Your words seem to have broken Art Donaldson. He looks at you silently, thinking about what he heard. He should leave right now: you're his friend's girlfriend, you're a little drunk and upset, you can make mistakes.
But you still look at him, just five minutes ago you said that you were tired of Patrick and wanted to change something. Does this mean you're leaving Patrick?
- Ask me, Art... - Everything except you loses the sound. How can he refuse you? Art has wanted you, you was so close and yet so far away.
Art is a strong man, with a well-trained will, but even he is now ready to break. All he wants now is to be close to you and he doesn't care about the consequences.
- Let's go. - You accept his hand without objection and follow the guy, noting how soft his skin is. Patrick's hands were heavy and hard, Art's were not like that. Having pushed away this comparison, you turn to the crowd, no one seems to care that you are going up to the second floor.
- Whose room is this? - You lean your back on the door, Art leans towards you, otherwise your whisper would not be able to be heard.
- Guest room. Did you lock it?
You pull the handle twice, wanting to check for sure. After making sure that you won’t be disturbed, I quickly take off my shoes, embarrassed to wear shoes in someone else’s house, and sit down next to Art.
- Are you sure? - Art wanted to know for sure, he had to make sure that you really wanted this.
- More than. And you?
- And I. Can I kiss you? - You push back a strand of hair from your forehead and nod, submitting to the tennis player’s touch. Art kisses your neck, his open mouth exploring your hot skin and his hand squeezing your bare knee, not going any further.
- Don't be afraid, I don't bite painfully. - You giggle, seeing only tenderness and affection in Art’s eyes, not a hint of mockery or playfulness, as was often the case with Patrick.
- I’ll be ready to endure even if you take a bite out of me. - Art strokes your cheek with his thumb.
You reach for the next kiss and lightly bite the man’s lip, trying to force him to open his mouth. Art's tongue is very warm and tastes like a mixture of cider and something bitter. He glides weightlessly, pulling you into a long and affectionate kiss and you move easily, feeling his tenderness embrace you.
- I’ve always wanted you... - Art rests his forehead on your shoulder and runs his nose along your skin. - Patrick just... Damn.
- Hey... - You lift Art’s face by the chin. - He's not here, you know? Patrick is an asshole and we both know it. Looks like I picked the wrong guy...
You push Art onto the bed and sit on top of him. The mention of your arrogant and stubborn boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) made you angry and added courage.
- We don't talk about Patrick anymore, okay? - Art nods, watching you in fascination. - Fine. Now touch me.
You begin to pull off Art’s shirt, your hips rise and the man immediately puts his hands on your legs, stroking the skin and rising higher and higher.
- I don’t think we’ll need that. - You unbutton the tennis player’s light trousers and pull them down along with your underwear just enough to free half-erect cock.
- I... Please. - Art whines underneath you, which can’t help but make you grin, you haven’t even touched him yet. - Please, I want it so much...
You take the penis in your hand and make a few slow movements. The soft skin pleasantly rubs against your hand, with your other hand you would grab Art’s balls, he almost jumps on the bed and shamelessly moves his hips towards you.
- My poor baby... - You coo over the already hard member and lubricate the droplets from the red tip with excitement. - No one has touched you for a long time, right?
Art looks at you pleadingly, he is ready to ask, beg you, but you yourself are already on the verge and won’t be able to tease him for long. Especially when Art gets his finger under the hem of your underwear...
- Oh shit! - You stop all actions, and, lifting up your dress, you move your underwear and push yourself onto Ard Donaldson’s dick.
- God! - He opens his eyes wide and squeezes your hips so hard that you are sure that the dress was torn.
- You're so big... - You didn't lie, Art's dick isn't as long as Patrick's, but his girth stretches you out much better. - So good, Art.
A man bites his lip when he hears his name from your lips, it is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. You both breathe heavily, getting used to the feeling of complete intimacy, you suddenly realize that you are not using a condom (if you believe Patrick’s stories, Art has never been with anyone at all).
You wiggle your hips, smiling predatorily at another hoarse moan, you always liked men who were not shy about the fact that they were receiving pleasure, and Art, with his heightened sensitivity, was just like that.
You lower your hot palms onto his chest, play with the short blond hairs and lean on him, starting to lift your hips.
Art huffs and whines beneath you, his strong hands gripping the blanket until his skin turns white. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, trying not to close his eyes from the pleasure that you and your beautiful velvet pussy give him, which hugs him so tightly that you want to howl.
- I feel you so deeply... - You push back the unruly hair from your face and smile, it was always nice to be filled, especially with Art. With him you feel a certain exclusivity; he seemed to be in inhuman bliss.
- Please, I... Damn! - Art sharply raises his hips and you hear a loud slap with which your bodies met.
- Touch me. - Art immediately slides his hand between your bodies and rubs your clitoris with his thumb. You spread your legs wider so he can see exactly how he slides in and out of you. - It’s so nice, Art.
His name sounds like a song from your lips and Art moves his hands to your waist, helping you move faster. He feels his own dick twitching and tries not to cum at the moment when you squeeze him especially tightly.
- I'm going to cum. - Your voice trembles and you moan, throwing your head back. - Do not stop...
Art continues to move inside you, cumming profusely and swallowing all his sounds, wanting to listen to your delicious sighs longer. You feel a mixture of your secretions flowing out of you, you feel how Art becomes softer inside you. You feel like you did everything right.
- I think we need to call Patrick. - You're breaking the "We don't talk about Patrick anymore" rule. - I'll take my things.
- I will help you. - Art gently traces circles on the skin of your thighs, the fact that you were still connected did not bother either of you. - I have plenty of space at home.
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thescribblednovel · 2 days
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Overstimulated Villain
Please give me credit if reposted! Thanks! 🙂
Villain’s POV
Everything was too much. Their heart pounded in their chest as a panicky feeling washed over them. Dodging the Hero’s fists swinging at them they made quick work and hit the Hero in the stomach. The Hero wheezed doubling over from the impact.
Their henchmen approached them from the sidelines “Sir, are you alright? Do you need to take a break? I have extra clothes if your uniform is too uncomfortable. I have your headphones. Do you need anything?”Henchmen was always looking out for Villain and they appreciated that, but sometimes henchmen gave Villain too many options and asked too many questions. “No! I’m fine! Leave me alone!” Villain snapped and turned their attention back towards Hero, who had pulled themself together and was looking at Villain like they were a puzzle. Villain didn’t know what to make of the look Hero was giving them, so they ignored it.
“Are we fighting or what Hero? Let's get this over with!” Their voice sounded sharp like the knives they used to take care of the people who were not to their liking.
Hero responded by shoving them into the brick wall of a building. The Hero held them there with their hands on the Villain’s shoulders, eyes studying them carefully. “Is something bothering you?” The Hero asked gently “I'm fine,” Villian whispered avoiding Hero’s eyes as they blinked back tears. Hero asked again “Is there something bothering you?” Hero took a minute and let Villan think about the question something they wished henchmen would do. “I can tell when you're lying.” Hero added, “Everything is too much.” They answered not enjoying how much emotion was in their voice. On the outside, they always made sure to seem controlled, but it was exhausting, and embarrassingly their mask always slipped.
“It's okay Villain you're overstimulated.” Hero soothed “The fight is over it's a tie!” Hero announced “What? Boss they are right there arrest them!” Sidekick argued, “I got this sidekick. Take the rest of the day off.” Hero said quickly dismissing Sidekick. “Can I have that supply bag henchman?” Hero asked their henchmen. Henchmen, the obedient little thing, did as they were asked. “Thanks, can henchmen be dismissed, Villain?” “Yes,” Villain said unsure. Henchmen scurried off and Hero began digging through Villain’s supply bag. Villain stared at Hero as they searched through the bag and retrieved their noise-canceling headphones. “Would these help?” Villain nodded in response. “Would you like to come to my place and cuddle like you did with me when I was overwhelmed?” The suggestion calmed the Villain slightly knowing how much they enjoyed cuddling Hero. “Yes, I want to cuddle,” Villain stated as Hero gave them their headphones with a grin.
Would you like Hero’s POV also? Should I do a part 2 of them cuddling? Or of the Villain helping Hero while they are overstimulated? Let me know! Thanks, for reading! 🙂
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newtness532 · 6 months
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why do women's lemon scented hygiene products smell different from men's lemon scented hygiene products?
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neverendingford · 9 months
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jimingyue · 5 months
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
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☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
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🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
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🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
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🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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Drabble List #10
75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.
"Thank you, I really hate it."
"Can't figure out the right answer."
"Sit down and shut up."
"I'm definitely open to that."
"Why don't you answer your phone?"
"It's not a witchhunt."
"Is it suddenly getting colder?"
"That child is staring at you."
"Let's talk about some options."
"And then you just lost it?"
"Have you heard about this story?"
"It's going to be a great day today."
"Don't say another word."
"This is absolutely not my fault."
"What would happen if I'd kiss you right now?"
"It's always a risk, but think about the reward."
"There is a fine line between stupid and genius."
"I never really left."
"Answer me. Quickly."
"You hold no power here."
"We learn from our mistakes."
"Have you seen that the sun is coming out?"
"This sounds like an interogation."
"Should I call my lawyer?"
"I have always admired you."
"Who's at your house right now?"
"Call the number. Now."
"When are you getting paid?"
"It miraculously stopped working."
"I have absolutely no answers to your questions."
"You took us on a wild ride there."
"What did she look like?"
"That's a scam, ma'am."
"Let's see each other again in ten years."
"I will be waiting for you."
"Please, don't pick me."
"Not my friends, not my problem."
"It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you."
"You are such a hypocrite."
"Nobody asked me, but I will answer."
"How did you get your degree?"
"I'm not going to discuss this with you."
"Great, who cares?"
"You just can't handle the truth."
"I'm curious about your motive."
"Respect is not given freely."
"Your pride will be your downfall."
"Just let it go, okay?"
"Why do you insist on it?"
"Seeing you like this, I fell even more in love with you."
"I don't want to hear another word coming out of your mouth!"
"I just know that everything will go well."
"This is very important for me."
"Wow, the weather is really... doing its thing."
"Don't even try to talk to me."
"I can and I will sue."
"Maybe this was a mistake."
"Do I make you nervous?"
"You never had the best ideas."
"Don't wait for me."
"Who would you call?"
"That's too wild for me."
"You can't even say it with a straight face."
"I told you not to touch that."
"Do I really have to answer that?"
"Takes one to know one.
"Let me make this right."
"When did you become an expert in this?"
"Nothing is as serious as it seems."
"How could this accidently happen?"
"It's not my birthday."
"Sounds like wishful thinking."
"Welcome to my personal hell."
"Do you even know who I am?"
"The devil knows I tried."
Drabble Masterlist
Have fun creating and writing!
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
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luveline · 7 months
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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!
thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem
The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 
He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 
James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 
He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 
You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 
"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 
"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 
James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 
"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 
"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 
You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.
"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.
Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 
"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 
"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 
"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 
"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 
"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 
"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 
The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 
The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 
"Eternal doesn't mean better." 
"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 
You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 
"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 
"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 
Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 
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cozage · 9 months
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It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person
Congrats on 2k followers ♡
I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)
Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡
Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3
Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740
Returned Kisses
Zoro
“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”
Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”
Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 
“I guess you’ll just have to see!”
His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 
“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 
Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 
When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 
“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 
“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”
He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 
When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”
Sanji
“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 
“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”
“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”
“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 
“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”
The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 
You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 
“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”
You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”
His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 
“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 
Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”
You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”
“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 
Luffy
“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 
“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”
His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 
He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”
“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 
“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”
You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.
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toruslvt · 1 month
Note
i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA
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⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.
���⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷
I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^
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there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.
he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’
Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.
it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.
walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.
“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.
“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.
we should hang out soon ;)
and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.
“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.
“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.
“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.
it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.
Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.
“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.
“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”
you swallow, “what are you doing here?”
“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”
“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”
he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.
“tell me what’s wrong”
“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”
“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”
you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.
“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.
“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.
there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”
“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.
“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”
“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.
he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”
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reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤
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delirious-donna · 2 months
Text
The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]
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an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.
pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader
warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot
Masterlist
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“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”
Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.
“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.
Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.
“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.
Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.
A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 
He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”
“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 
Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”
Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.
“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.
“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.
He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.
You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”
Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.
A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.
You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.
It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…
Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.
His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered.
“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”
“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”
Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 
“Spit it out, Higuruma.”
Oh, he was in trouble.
Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”
“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”
“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.
When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 
“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”
Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.
“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.
“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”
How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.
“Fine, but you owe me.”
~
The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.
Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.
Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.
You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 
Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.
No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.
Higuruma could get used to this. 
He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 
It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.
However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.
The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.
Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 
You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.
By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.
“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”
Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 
As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 
“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 
You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.
There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 
It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.
“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.
“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”
Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.
You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.
“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”
Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.
“Fuck… take it out, please.”
He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 
For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.
It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.
“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”
“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.
Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 
His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.
Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 
His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.
“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.
You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.
He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.
You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 
��Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”
Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.
The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 
He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.
Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.
With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 
Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.
He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.
“Mr Higuruma?”
“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.
“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”
Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.
“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”
Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months
Note
rafe and reader fucking next to rafes (passed out) girlfriend
(optional: the gf is readers best friend)
🎶
What do you think? 💦
Your best friend was passed out right next to you, wine drunk off too many glasses. She had always been a heavy sleeper and it had annoyed you how hard she was to wake up. That was before you had her boyfriend’s huge dick inside you. It almost hurt how big he was, stretching your cunt out as his massive hands guided your hips up and down.
“That’s a good little slut. How does that big dick feel?” Rafe’s voice low as he looked at you with blue eyes that were completely darkened. You knew this was wrong, you were being a terrible terrible friend. This man though had a chokehold on you though.
“So-.. so big.” You whimpered, your pussy soaking his cock.
Chucking darkly, he slid his hands down to your bare ass. “I’m about to show you how big your best friend’s boyfriend’s dick is.” He whispered, holding you tightly as he started to thrust up into you. You wanted to scream, his massive length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You bit your lower lip, tucking your head into his neck as he leaned in towards your ear. “Fucking you raw right next to your best friend. Hmm.. she doesn’t even get that.”
His words were dirty. Wrong as you should feel, all you could think about was how you were about to cum all over his dick. If your best friend didn’t hear the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breathing, she was sure to hear the sounds of your wet cunt.
“I’m a-about.. to cum.” You moan into his neck with a whine to your voice as this man had no signs of slowing down. His pants in your ear, low growls had you clenching down onto his cock.
“You might have to tell your best friend that you are knocked up with my baby.” Rafe’s voice still in your ear as you felt his cum shoot inside you.
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erwinsvow · 19 days
Note
when rafe lets reader go on aux and she plays lana. him humming to beat omgggg. i need him in my bones
omg !! im imagining this with that one part of west coast.. but left it vague so you can imagine your fave lana song ♡
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rafe was in a good mood. it wasn't anything new—he was always in a good mood around you anyways—but today it seemed even better. you were sat in the passenger seat of his truck, waiting patiently for rafe to drive the two of you to dinner, when he glances over at you with a smile.
the windows rolled down, a breeze coming in and rustling your hair with the warm glow of the sunset filling the car. when he hands you his phone, you look back at him confused.
"y'can pick the music today."
"really?" your entire face lights up with a smile. you start looking through your options immediately while he backs out of your driveway, his arm stretched across the headrest of your seat.
the familiar sound of one of your favorite lana songs fills the car, even seeping out into streets through the open windows. you set down his phone and smile at rafe, pleased that he's happy.
you stare out the window, watching the sun dip further and further away through the trees, wondering how close you are to the restaurant and if rafe will get you dessert after—though you already know the answer.
you're snapped out of your thoughts at another sound—rafe humming along to the end of the song, fingers tapping on the wheel and maybe not even aware of what he's doing. your gaze turns to your boyfriend, eyes staring and taking in the scene, smile a little dozy.
a couple things run through your mind, how rafe's memorized the melody of your favorite song, how he must have liked it enough to remember, how silly yet memorable everything about it feels. warmth blooms in your chest, running up to your face and make your palms clammy.
the song shifts to the next and rafe pulls into the parking lot, stopping the car. he glances up to see you staring back at him.
"what?"
"nothing," you reply, though you feel giddy inside, and over something as small as rafe letting you pick the music and liking what you selected. "i'm... excited for dinner." the lie comes out automatically, not wanting to bring it up just in case. you think you should keep the moment for yourself.
"yeah, me too. c'mon, kid."
"coming, rafe."
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girlgenius1111 · 3 days
Text
promises
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part 2 to behave. sol makes some questionable decisions. mapi comes to her rescue. ingrid comes home. ft. someone special.
Your arm was broken, and you hadn’t gotten drunk in months. Of course, the two main reasons you had for sneaking out could definitely be construed as two reasons not to sneak out as well. But Ingrid was out of town only until the following afternoon, and Mapi slept like the dead. It was a perfect opportunity, the only opportunity you’d have for many more weeks to come. And besides, you were 18. You weren’t breaking any laws. 
You’d been invited to a party, too, which wasn’t an opportunity you wanted to waste. You hadn’t assimilated to school very well. It was a nightmarish hell, honestly, but in the past few weeks you’d made a few casual acquaintances. They weren’t in any of your classes, and you didn't know them very well, but it was a good start.  
You slipped out the front door at around 1, promising Scout you’d be back soon, and began the few blocks’ walk to where the party was. You were excited. 
------
You didn’t like this. It was unclear what was so unsettling, maybe it was the fact that everything had changed so dramatically since the last time you’d been drunk. Maybe it was because, now, you cared very much about disappointing the people in charge of you. There was also the tiny detail that you’d had way too much. Your tolerance had evidently gone down in the past several months, but you hadn’t really thought about that until it was too late. 
Either way, you just really weren’t feeling the party. It reminded you too much of being back in Norway. How you felt then… you hadn’t really realized how bad it was until you were out of there, and doing much better. The taste of tequila on your tongue was a very visceral reminder of that time. 
It tasted like loneliness. It tasted like you hated everyone, yourself most of all. It tasted like you didn’t care much whether you got home safely, or got home at all. Like you were completely meaningless, and you always would be. You were scared, honestly, just wanted to go home. You headed out the back slider, leaving behind the noise of the party, and fell into one of the patio chairs. You couldn’t walk straight, your mind was completely cloudy, and you were having a hard time stringing any coherent thoughts together. You wanted to go home, but there was no way for you to get there; you definitely couldn’t walk. And even as drunk as you were, you knew ubering home in the middle of the night, by yourself, completely wasted, was a horrible idea. 
You were considering your options when your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts. Mapi was calling you. Fuck. You had no choice but the answer. She had your location. The only way you would have gotten away with this in the first place would have been if she hadn’t woken up. Now, though. You were completely screwed. You did your best to sound as sober as possible when you answered the phone.
“Hi Mapi.” You said cautiously. 
“Nena. Are you coming home soon?” Mapi asked calmly. 
“W-what?” You slurred back, blinking hard in an attempt to clear your mind. 
“You snuck out a couple of hours ago, and now it is almost 3am. So. Are you coming home soon, or should I come get you?”
“You knew I snuck out?” You asked dumbly. 
“Yes, nena. Now, where are you? Are you drunk?” 
“No.” 
You could feel Mapi roll her eyes. “Liar. I am coming to get you.”
The wind picked up a bit, and you shivered, suddenly feeling very cold, and very alone out in the dark. “Mapi?”
“Sí?” 
“Can you stay on the phone?”
And just like that, Mapi’s tone switched from annoyed and slightly amused, to full of concern. “Sí, I’m right here. What is going on? Are you safe? Are you with anyone?” 
You looked back through the sliding door, the party still in full swing. You weren’t alone, really, but you weren’t… with anyone. And for some reason, maybe because you were having memory after memory of feeling very similarly in Norway, you didn’t feel quite safe. 
“There’s a party inside. I’m outside. By myself. Can you come fast? I don’t feel good.” 
“I’m on my way, mi sol.” Mapi promised, and you knew without her saying it that she would go as fast as she could. 
------
She should have stepped in sooner. She should have stopped you the minute you’d snuck out the front door, or at the very least, followed you to where you went. 
She’d been awake, scrolling on her phone. Sleeping was always a bit more difficult without Ingrid there with her, so though it was later than usual for her to be up, it wasn’t completely unheard of. You were quiet as you left, but Mapi had accidentally picked up your phone earlier in the evening, and seen a text containing an address in it. The Spaniard was young once, too, and she knew pretty much instantly what was going on. She half hoped that you’d just ask about going, but as she was reminded often, your parents had done their damage. You’d snuck out instead. 
The thing was, Mapi honestly didn’t care very much that you wanted to go out. It was slightly worrying that you’d felt the need to sneak out, but she understood. The rules were different now than when you’d been in Norway, and it was clear to her that you were still getting used to that. 
You didn’t sound good on the phone, though, and she couldn’t help the worry that filled her as she sped towards the house your location was displaying. It wasn’t just that you were hammered. You sounded… far away. You sounded like the Sol she met when you first arrived. Cold, terrified, closed off, and desperately sad. Mapi didn’t like hearing you like that, and now she really wished that she would have stopped you from leaving the house earlier. 
There hadn’t been a peep over the phone for a few minutes as Mapi neared the house. “Hey, nena? You with me?” 
“Mm hmm.” You hummed, your attention fixed on the sky above you. It was funny, how all the stars could be the same in Barcelona as they were in Norway, yet everything else could be so drastically different. 
“I’m in front. Can you walk out to me, or should I come back and get you?” She was thrilled that you’d made friends enough to go to a party, and she didn’t want to embarrass you if she didn’t have to. 
“‘Can walk,” You mumbled, standing up from the chair, taking a step forward, and promptly falling face first to the ground. Mapi heard the racket, and was out of her car and running to you before you could get a word out. “Mapi, I fell,” you whined over the phone, completely oblivious to the fact that the Spaniard was sprinting in your direction. 
“Idiota.” Mapi mumbled, arriving at your side and bending down to inspect your face. 
“Mapiiiiii,” you sang, eyes halfway closed as you grinned up at the other girl.
“Ay dios mio.” Mapi sighed. You were worse off than she’d thought. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” 
“No, but I hurt my knee, look,” you said sadly, pointing down to a very small scrape. 
“Alright, let’s get you home and I’ll take care-”
“Excuse me, who are you?” A girl asked, stepping out onto the patio, looking between you and Mapi. “Sol, do you know that girl?” 
“I am her… Mapi.” Mapi said, internally rolling her eyes at herself. 
“She’s my Mapi!” You said enthusiastically, somehow hopping to your feet with a bit of agility, and leaning heavily against your sister's girlfriend. “She’s my sister Ingrid’s Mapi, her name is girlfriend.” You slurred. 
The girl just blinked, looking confused. “I am her sister’s girlfriend, María. She called me. I’m going to take her home now.” 
The girl’s expression cleared. “Oh, got it. Thanks for coming, Sol, see you monday.” 
“Byeeeeeeeee.”
“Have a good night.” Mapi said kindly. She appreciated that the girl hadn’t let some stranger abduct you from her patio. She began the arduous journey of practically carrying you back to the car. Once you were in the front seat, she turned the light on above you tilted your face towards her. 
“Nena, open your eyes.” She instructed. You did, opening your eyes ridiculously wide, until they began watering. She just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been drugged or anything, given how out of it you were. Your pupils looked normal, and she decided you had just had way too much to drink.“Okay, you can let your eyes be normal now.” 
They fell back into the half lidded state they were in before, and you sagged into the seat. Mapi bit back a smile. Now that you were safe, she was slightly amused at Drunk Sol. You were funny. 
She’d noticed something though, and as she buckled your seatbelt around you, she asked a question she knew you’d probably avoid answering if you’d been sober. 
“Nena, do the kids at school call you Sol?” 
Mapi had been under the impression that you went by your real name at school, as much as you hated it. Ingrid and Mapi almost exclusively called you Solstråle or Sol, now, just out of habit, but she hadn’t realized you’d made the change at school, too. 
“Yup.” You said, head turned towards her, though your eyes remained shut. 
“Why?” She wondered. She was just curious, honestly. Not only had she not known that you’d had friends at school, you hadn’t mentioned talking to anyone enough to come out of your shell, and tell them something different to call you. 
“I like it better.” 
“Oh.” Mapi said. 
“I like Sol. It’s pretty. And you picked it.” You attempted to poke Mapi’s nose, missed, and hit her cheek, though you continued on like nothing had happened. “And my mom never called me that. It’s a happy name.” 
Mapi blinked at you, before she cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” She said softly, before she shut your car door, and walked around to her side. And if she wiped a few tears away as she did so, that was no one’s business. 
-------
“That STINGS!” You shouted, sitting up out of what Mapi thought was a light sleep, yanking your leg away from her. She’d been trying to disinfect your knee, taking advantage of the fact that you’d collapsed onto the sofa the minute you made it into the house. 
“Sorry, Sol, I’m just cleaning it.” Mapi said, stifling a laugh at the absolutely betrayed look on your face. 
“You SCRAPED MY KNEE!” You insisted, a huge frown on your face. 
“Sol, you scraped your knee, when you fell down earlier. Now let me put a bandaid on.” 
“I didn’t fall, you fell.” You grumbled, though you extended your leg back out to her. “Mapi?” 
“Hmm?”
“Why is my arm wearing a blue condom?” You asked, dead serious, holding up your cast and inspecting it thoughtfully. Mapi bit her lip, trying in vain not to laugh at you, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate it in this state. 
“It’s not a condom, Sol, it’s a cast. You broke your arm.” 
“Oh.” You sat for a moment, watching as Mapi very carefully ensured the bandaid was correctly placed on your knee. “Are there condoms for lesbians?”
God save her. Mapi looked up at you, trying to tell if you were being serious. Your face was completely blank. No. No. She wasn’t doing this now. She was quite sure you’d had sex education, and even if you hadn’t, she’d make Ingrid do it when you were sober. “We can talk about condoms tomorrow. You’re going to bed now.” 
“If there are lesbian condoms, I’m in trouble, because I’ve never used one and I’m a lesbian.” You continued, before sitting up with a gasp. “Oh GOD. Am I pregnant?” 
Now, Mapi really wished she had stopped you from sneaking out. She wished she’d locked you in your room for the night, honestly. 
“Sol, you are not pregnant. Lesbians can’t get each other pregnant.” She explained, lifting you off the couch and into her arms. You were silent as she walked up the stairs, you curled up against her, until you sniffled quietly. She looked down, seeing tears in your eyes, and hurriedly placed you on your bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked gently, wiping away a stray tear. 
“That’s so sad.” You cried. 
“What is?” Mapi asked, bewildered. 
“That lesbians can’t get each other pregnant. It’s not fair.” 
“Sol, did you not know lesbians couldn’t get each other pregnant?” The Spaniard asked exasperatedly, really starting to doubt the sex education program at your school. 
“No. I just didn’t think about it until now and it’s so sad.” You mumbled, flopping back onto your bed. “‘Cause lesbians are the best.” 
Mapi flopped down onto the bed next to you, rolling her eyes when Scout picked his head up to glare at her. Of course. Now the dog woke up. “It is sad.” She agreed, thinking it was the easiest way to end the conversation. You didn’t respond, though and she looked over to find you already asleep. 
Thank god.
-------
When you wandered down the stairs at 10 the next morning, Mapi was glad to see that you looked relatively… fine. Not hungover at all, which was absurd considering the state you’d been in the night before. 
“Good morning, Solstråle.” She said, smirking when you looked at her with a furrowed brow. 
“Morning.” You mumbled back, throwing yourself dramatically onto the couch.
“How are you feeling?” 
“Just tired.” 
“You aren’t hungover?” 
“I don’t really get hungover.” You said absentmindedly, scrolling on your phone, only looking up when Mapi didn’t say anything. “What?” 
She looked surprised and kind of annoyed. “You don’t get hungover?” 
“Nope!” You said cheerfully. “Probably a young person thing.” Turning back to your phone, you jumped when a pillow thwacked you in the face. 
“I am young.” Mapi grumbled. You just laughed. “You will not be laughing when Ingrid finds out you snuck out to get drunk.” 
You sat bolt upright, staring at her with your jaw dropped. “You’re going to tell on me?” 
And though she’d said it mostly as a joke, she’d been serious, and she was surprised you hadn’t known that. She told Ingrid everything. She couldn’t keep this from her. “Sol, you had to have known I’d tell her.” 
“You knew I left and you didn’t say anything! This is your fault!”
“My fault?” Mapi laughed. “I wasn’t going to tell her if you snuck back in, but you were so drunk I had to come get you. So. I’m telling Ingrid.”
You studied her for a minute. “I don’t think you will.” 
“Oh you don’t? And why not?” Mapi said, grinning. 
“Because if you tell Ingrid, I am sure Alexia would love to know that you gave her hermanita a tattoo behind her back.” 
The smile fell from Mapi’s face as she stared at you in horror. “You wouldn’t.” 
You smirked. “I would.” 
“Sol, you promised you would not tell. This is not just about me, this is about Fresa too, and you cannot…”
You began to tune Mapi out at the name. Fresa. The day you’d met her had been… a rough one. You’d argued with Ingrid about Camila, and she’d left the house before you could make up. Camila had been together a week, and Ingrid was far from happy. You were left stressed in your room, worried that Ingrid was going to return and take back every nice thing she’d said over the past week or so. It had been a bad day, yes but you still remembered meeting Alexia’s little sister, very clearly. 
-------
A soft knock on your door had you looking up from the school work you were struggling over. 
“Come in.” 
Mapi popped her head in the door. “Can we talk for a sec?” 
You stiffened, though your face was completely blank. “Okay. Did I do something wrong?” You asked quietly. You were always more withdrawn after an argument with your sister. Mapi didn’t say anything about the fact that your cheeks were tearstained, or how you regarded her a bit frightfully. You did so many things frightfully, even now, even still. 
“No, no, not at all. I just have a favor to ask you.” You nodded for her to continue. “Alexia’s younger sister is coming over today for a tattoo, while Ingrid is gone. And I really, really need you not to tell Ingrid about it. Or Alexia. Or anyone.” 
You were a bit stunned by the fact that Mapi would trust you with a secret like this. No one had trusted you with… anything in a really long time. Things were different, you reminded yourself. “Okay .I won't tell.” 
Mapi looked at you for a minute, maybe surprised at how easily you’d agreed. “I don’t mean to make you keep secrets from Ingrid, it’s just that-”
“It’s fine, Mapi. Ingrid won’t think to ask me about it, so it’s not really lying anyway.”
Mapi was  aware that she was probably crossing a boundary by asking you not to tell Ingrid about this, but Fresa was practically an adult, had a good head on her shoulders, and honestly, she needed someone to show her some love. Mapi knew she wasn’t doing something bad, which is how she justified asking you to keep the secret. Fresa needed her sisters, but they weren’t paying attention, and she was tired of trying to get it. So, if Fresa wanted a tattoo from Mapi, then she’d get one. And honestly? Mapi didn’t feel bad about keeping it a secret from Alexia. She was pretty frustrated with the midfielder at the moment, but she could only fix the relationship between sisters one at a time. 
“Okay. Thanks, kid.” She said, giving you a small smile. You smiled back at her, just a bit, but it was more than Mapi normally got, so she took it. 
------
When Mapi had said Alexia’s sister was coming over today when Ingrid was shopping, you’d been much too focused on Mapi trusting you to really process what she’d said. Though it all came rushing back to you when you wandered down the stairs, responding to a text from Camila. She had just invited herself to the next home match and told you she didn’t want to sit with Mapi. You were trying to figure out what to say, because honestly, you liked sitting with Mapi at Ingrid’s games, even if she talked a lot; it was endearing. You had just decided to agree to Camila’s request when Mapi caught your attention. 
“Oh, Solstråle,” Mapi said excitedly. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes flicking over to the other girl in your house. She was looking at you with a smile on her face, as if she’d just been joking around with Mapi. She had that Putellas aura, one that completely projected confidence. It intimidated you, and you faltered, unsure what to do, or say to this mysterious, beautiful girl. You didn’t want to lounge in the living room anymore, waiting for Ingrid to get home so you could apologize and see if she was still mad. You wanted to go back to your room where it was safe and there were no strangers. “This is Ingrid’s hermana, Solstråle,” Mapi introduced, giving you an encouraging smile. 
You took a minute step backwards, slightly panicked. You forgot you had social anxiety, sometimes, especially when you went so long without meeting new people, and being expected to talk to anyone other than Ingrid and Mapi. The pretty girl smiled, and your brain fell empty for a second. 
If she was beautiful before she smiled she was… otherworldly when she did. She was warm and happy and so… light. She was overflowing with love, and you could tell from just a few seconds of being in her presence. 
“Solstråle, this is Alexia’s sister, Fresa.” Mapi continued, pretending that you weren’t acting like a complete weirdo. You still couldn’t talk, your mouth suddenly very dry, and Mapi sighed a bit. That sent you reeling because normally, Mapi was so careful not to ever let you think she was disappointed in something you did. 
She really just wanted you both to be friends, and felt like she was blowing the introduction, but you felt like you needed to get out of there before you made even more of a fool of yourself. 
“You can say hi Sol she does not bite! Actually you-” 
You interrupted Mapi, hastily greeting Fresa in what was probably very poor, and very quiet spanish. Then, you made it even worse, somehow, by turning on your heel and making a break for it. Back to your room where it was safe. 
Mapi apologized later for putting you on the spot with a new person, and you’d apologized for acting like you’d never spoken to another human being in your life before. Mapi casually asked if you wanted her to get Fresa’s number from Alexia, so you both could be friends, but you’d declined. 
You didn’t need friends. Definitely not pretty friends that made you nervous, especially when there was absolutely, positively no way she’d like you back. Or even that she liked girls. What were the odds all three Putellas sister’s were lesbians? It seemed unlikely to you, and you tried to push Fresa out of your head as the weeks passed. You focused on Camila, and then you focused on anything but Camila. Fresa always… stayed in the background, though. Always a thought. Always there. 
-------
You blushed at the memory, at how insanely shy and awkward you’d been. You honestly weren’t really looking to share that story with anyone, let alone Alexia, who was one of the coolest people you'd ever encountered. 
“Alright, I won’t tell anyone. I did promise.” You stated, before you grew serious. “But please don’t tell Ingrid, Mapi. It is never ever going to happen again, I felt so weird yesterday, it wasn’t fun at all. It was a one time thing.”
“What, you are never going to drink again?” Mapi asked, distracted and now slightly concerned. 
You decided to be honest, because vulnerability couldn’t be worse than Ingrid yelling at you. It would come close. But it wouldn't be worse. “No, I just…I realized I don’t need to do that anymore, blackout every weekend. When I used to do it before, in Norway, I was trying to forget. I was running away from my problems. I don’t need to do that anymore, I don’t want to.” 
“Oh.” Mapi said carefully, recognizing the weight of what you’d just admitted to her. “Okay. Fine. I won’t tell Ingrid. If you promise to stop taking pictures of me sleeping next to Scout, because they are not representative of our relationship. We do not like each other. We just happen to fall asleep in the same spot sometimes.”
You threw your head back and laughed. “Sure, Mapi. If that’s what you want.”
------
Ingrid hated ubering home from the airport. It took forever, the drivers were never very good, and she much preferred her girlfriend to come to the airport and greet her with a warm hug. However, Ingrid couldn’t miss the opportunity to surprise you both upon her arrival home. It had been a tough couple days for you, she knew. You were an emotional mess after the hospital, though you pretended not to be, and you hated not being able to do your normal activities. So, when Ingrid realized she could catch a flight in the morning as opposed to the afternoon, she jumped at it. She missed her girls, and seeing you both sooner was worth the hassle. 
You and Mapi had ensured the house was spotless. Early on in the break, you’d suggested making slime. Mapi had agreed, and it went about as well as could be expected. The dining room floor was now bare, the rug that normally lived there was nowhere to be found. Other than that, though, the house was clean, and Scout had gotten a bath, courtesy of Mapi due to the cast on your arm. That went about as could be expected, too. 
After cleaning, you’d slumped onto the couch grumpily. Mapi knew you were bummed about your hand. You were such an active person, always moving around, always doing something outside. Now, though, you needed to rest your very broken arm, which meant that you were stuck inside with Mapi. You were grouchy and short tempered, but the Spaniard was doing her best to keep you occupied. 
Both of you were too wrapped up in the intense round of mario kart you were playing to notice the car pull into the drive, or hear your sister approach with her suitcase. You could only play with one hand and the thumb of your broken hand, so Mapi promised to only do the same. As soon as you began to beat her, though, she began to cheat, sneakily using both her hands on the controller, much to your frustration. 
Ingrid felt a pang of worry flash through her when she heard a raised voice as she unlocked the front door. She knew what your mood had been like, and she was worried you were arguing with Mapi. You’d never yelled at her girlfriend before, but you’d definitely yelled at Ingrid. 
“I swear to god María, I am going to throw this at your head,” you shouted. 
Ingrid fumbled with her keys in her haste to get the door open. 
“I am not cheating!” Mapi defended. “You are seeing things, pequeña, I thought it was your arm that was b-”
Her voice cut off as Ingrid swung the door open, a small smile on her face as she’d realized what the argument was about. 
“Ingrid?” You and Mapi said, completely in unison. Scout hopped off the couch, trotting over to his second favorite person, eagerly sniffing at her legs. Ingrid petted him, her attention still on the two of you, frozen on the couch. The rainbow road music still played in the background, and it was truly a comical sight. You had been attempting to kick Mapi’s controller out of her hands, and she was trying to cover your eyes. 
“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, launching off the couch to almost tackle her girlfriend in a hug. 
“Hi my love,” Ingrid murmured, hugging Mapi back rather tightly. 
“I’m so glad you’re home.” Mapi whispered. “She’s scary when she’s grumpy.” 
“I heard that.” You said, frowning at the Spaniard. Ingrid was surprised when you yanked on the back of Mapi’s shirt, pulling her away from your sister, and took her place. The hug you gave your sister was fierce and if Ingrid had been wondering if you’d missed her, she no longer did. 
“Hi sweetheart,” she said, squeezing you tight. 
“Hi.” You mumbled. “Missed you.” 
“I missed you too, Solstråle.” Ingrid said with a smile, taking your cast into her hands as she pulled back. 
“How is your hand? How are you? Are you doing okay?” She asked worriedly, and you nodded, though you really appreciated how much she cared. 
“It’s fine, really. Mapi was… Mapi was really helpful. Couldn’t have done it without her.” You glanced at her, before turning back to your sister, changing the subject. “Blank canvas for you to sign.” You grinned. Ingrid returned that smile and dragged you into the kitchen without further ado. She completely disregarded her duffel bag by the door, and left her backpack on as if she couldn’t be bothered with it before she signed your cast. 
“Can I sign when you’re done?” Mapi asked eagerly. 
“When I’m done, yes,” Ingrid sighed, though she was endlessly entertained by her girlfriend’s impatience. Mapi was like you in that sense. 
Ingrid found a sharpie in the drawer, carefully grabbing your cast in her hands, instructing you to close your eyes. 
‘du er favorittpersonen min selv når du faller love, ingrid’
When she was done, she told you to open your eyes, and you did so eagerly, looking down at what she’d written. You weren’t expecting tears to flood your vision, but they did. ‘You’re my favorite person, even when you fall.’ It felt like it had more than one meaning. Ingrid would always love you. Regardless of your mistakes. 
You smiled at her through your tears, throwing your arms around her again in a tight hug. She caught you easily, enjoying the moment. 
“Ahem. MY TURN.” Mapi said impatiently, causing both you and Ingrid to break into laughter. You let Mapi sign, then, even though she wrote so big it took up half the cast. Ingrid just watched, enjoying the sight of her little family. It was very perfect. 
-----
:)
send! your! sol! thoughts! and let me know what you thought of this one 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂
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itsthewritergal · 3 months
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Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader
Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)
TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!
“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room, 
“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was 
“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh 
“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly, 
“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said, 
“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room, 
“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked 
“I don’t know” Bucky said 
“What about that girl you went out with the other night?” 
“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said 
“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat, 
“No” He said bluntly, 
“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh 
“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second, 
“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned, 
“Hey Nat” She said gently, 
“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you” 
“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started 
“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message, 
“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions. 
“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything,  her eyes wandered to his arm,  “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour” 
“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded
An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them, 
“I should go” She said quickly, 
“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again 
“I, uh I found, I found this”  Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything
“This is why you came?” Bucky said 
“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly,  shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it. 
“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option. 
----
“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth
“Just around,” She said quietly 
“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said, 
“I had to move out” 
“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice 
“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up 
“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table 
“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly 
“We’re okay” Steve said, 
“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, 
“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked, 
“It’s nice” Y/N said gently , 
“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly 
“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye. 
“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed, 
“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat, 
“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought
“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner 
“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested, 
“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room 
A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said 
“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us” 
“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely, 
“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said 
“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right” 
“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked 
“ Nothing” Bucky said 
“Don’t lie” Tony snapped 
“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked 
“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said 
“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly 
Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt” 
“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped 
“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said 
Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less. 
----
“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.
“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”  
“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,
“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?” 
“Y/N” Wanda finished
“Who sent this” Tony asked 
“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either” 
“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now” 
“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered 
“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said, 
“We can and we will because he is going to help us” 
“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said 
“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate. 
“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands
“This is different” Tony said, 
“How so?” Steve asked 
“This is personal” Tony said sternly, 
“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered, 
“What happened to her?” Bucky asked 
“I was sent this video” Tony said
 “We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added 
“FRIDAY, play the video please”
The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him 
“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault. 
“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm 
“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again 
“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said 
“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out, 
“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump 
“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room 
“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”
“Turn it off” Bucky said once more 
“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke 
“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it  isn’t me” She snapped 
“You have six hours or she dies” 
The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky, 
“When was this sent?” He said 
“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly, 
“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.” 
“I need to go as well” Bucky said 
“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this” 
“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him
“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly. 
“We need to go, now” Steve said 
----
Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment.  He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure. 
“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it
“It was a means to an end” Steve said, 
“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,  
“We didn’t know” Clint said
“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help” 
“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly 
“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes 
“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,
“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh
“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?” 
“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly  “We argued about it” He admitted 
“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked 
“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly
“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity
“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said 
“We need to look at security cameras”  Clint suggested 
“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want” 
“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips 
“It can’t be” Wanda said 
“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense” 
“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked 
“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing 
“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”
----
Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life, 
“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said 
“It’s a trap” Nat said 
“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?” 
“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before” 
“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room, 
Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen, 
“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke 
“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood. 
“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered 
“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with 
“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?” 
“Just kill me” She whispered 
“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand 
“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs, 
The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it. 
“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5” 
----
The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head. 
“She’s going to be okay” Steve said 
“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die” 
“Then don’t let her” Steve said 
Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him, 
“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her 
“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded, 
“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said
Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong. 
“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls, 
“They know we are here” Steve muttered, 
“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took. 
“Y/N?” Steve called out, 
“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed,  Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice.  Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.  
“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells, 
“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be. 
“We’re surrounded” Steve said, 
“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered, 
“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed 
“What?” 
“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me” 
“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?” 
“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped 
“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards. 
“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath. 
Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her. 
“Guys she’s here” Wanda called, 
Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood. 
“Please” She whimpered 
“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently 
“Please no” She cried 
“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side 
“No Please, let me go” She said 
“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok” 
“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her 
“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said, 
“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised
“Just let me go please?” 
PART TWO
973 notes · View notes
chimielie · 2 months
Text
yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)
summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
word count: 2k
cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end
a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog
Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.
He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.
“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.
Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.
“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables. 
“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”
“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”
“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake. 
A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.
Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor. 
He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.
Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.
You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.
Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.
You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.
Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.
You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.
This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out. 
Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.
He does not like it when other men flirt with you.
“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”
“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”
Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.
“Ow! Douchebag!”
“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.
“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.
“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.
The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly. 
“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?” 
“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.
“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”
Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.
Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.
He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.
As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.
“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”
“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.
“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”
“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”
“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”
“I don’t!”
“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”
“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.
“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”
“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”
“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”
“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.
“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”
“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”
“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.
“Please leave,” says the librarian. 
You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.
“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”
“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.
“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?” 
“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.
“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed. 
“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”
“Yes, please,” he says fervently.
You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.
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