#hangdog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

travelingneuritis · 1 year

Text

kinnposche ep. 6, part 1 because this is too long already. Segment Title: There Was Only 1 Handcuffs

-kinn and porsche are lost together in the woods! how awwwwwful for them.

-after their... uh, heart-to-heart the previous evening, in which kinn practically begged porsche not to leave and porsche looked barely softened by his rather weaselly apology-- then their kidnapping and subsequent fight to get free-- and the night they spent in the woods, wandering about & getting in each other’s way-- kinn and porsche are both finally, mutually, out of Fucks To Give. while arguing about who gets to be the conductor on this trainwreck of a self-rescue mission, kinn rancidly plays the boss card; porsche blocks it with the infamous Do I Look Like I Give A Shit defense of ‘07: “oh what’re you gonna do, have your goons beat me up? good luck FINDING THEM, DUMBASS.” 1 round of rock-paper-scissors later, porsche grumblingly accepts the position of caboose: thus demonstrating that he respects a stupid kids’ game more than he respects kinn’s assertions of legitimate authority over him.

-i’m glad the episode doesn’t go full city-mouse/country-mouse, because that wouldn’t make sense for these two ipad babies. however, porsche’s senses seem a bit more finely honed-- he was the one who heard the kidnappers sneaking up on them last night (after a couple beers, no less!), and now he’s the one who picks out the sound of running water through all the wind-rustled trees.

-tired, thirsty, hangry and still pissed at each other from (checks writing on hand) all of their everything, they start sniping about whose fault this is: kinn’s, for not catching that he was being tailed! no, porsche’s, for “running away” (ie, taking PTO. god this workplace is toxic). no, kinn’s for following him! wait, why did kinn follow him? ah, don’t think about that, moving on, moving on! anyway, it’s a relief when their argument arrives at the spitting-and-shoving stage; i think it’s good for them to get it all out. porsche is pretty touchy-feely with his friends and his brother; i bet he roughhouses all the time w/ people he’s comfortable with (i also bet that kinn... doesn’t). and it seems like it does help them blow off steam. that, or that they tousle straight into the creek porsche heard earlier. don’t worry about why he could hear it from a distance but can’t hear it when it’s like 2 yards below him. ssh, it’s a tv show.

-their fight is immediately back-burnered, they decide it’s easier to move around if they hold hands instead of letting their wrists dangle limply from the cuffs, and when porsche insists on leading the way downstream kinn peacably agrees. this time, when porsche playfully teases kinn about the directions, kinn teases him right back. he doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed at porsche’s crowing; he just seems relieved to see porsche smiling again, and unwilling to say anything to upset that just yet.

(as an aside, apo looks unrealistically hot in these scenes. the golden lighting, the drops of water in his hair, his megawatt smile as he drinks from his cupped palm and splashes water down kinn’s back to cool him off............if kinn wasn’t besotted by now [he is], this would absolutely do the trick. also, i really like when they put porsche in jeans and a t-shirt. not that the bodyguard menswear isn’t nice, but he looks so soft and touchable like this. and that wet t-shirt do be clingin.)

-on that topic, props to the on-set wardrobe continuity ppl, who make sure that the correct half of kinn’s shirt is consistently wet (he landed on his right side in the water). i will have more to say about the wardrobe crew later. stay tuned!

-after heckling kinn as he tries to light a fire with a rock that is probably definitely not the fire-lighting kind of rock, porsche produces his lighter. he had it all along, he just wanted to teach his boss/crush/lover some humility, which i think is very sexy of him. you can tell kinn is used to subordinates laughing at his jokes whether or not they’re funny, so it’s healthy for him to get ragged on a bit by the boy he likes who is Better At Woods than him.

-i find the search-team interludes a little silly; it’s just a bunch of guys milling around in a tight group, yelling. they’re not spreading out or using infrared drones or dogs or anything! but at least pete is up to something useful, staking out vegas (whom the main family suspects of being behind the kidnapping). he’s patient and alert, but he also parked the car right in the beam from a streetlamp and rolled his window down, so: obviously vegas figures out he’s being tailed and bullies pete about it a little. Eat Farmhouse Bread!

-back in Enemies To Lovers Summer Camp, kinn flirtatiously tries to catch a fish. then porsche flirtatiously pretends to be poisoned by some fruit he found somewhere, and kinn immediately ticks over into porsche-is-in-danger mode and sticks his fingers down his throat. one episode. just ONE episode without porsche projectile vomiting, is that so much to ask for?? (actually, it’s a pretty charming scene. i like seeing them play around with each other! and kinn is someone who very desperately needs the piss taken)

-how does porsche know so much about spearing fish if he’s a city boy too? my guess is he falls down a youtube rabbit hole every night, same as me. he also knows how to shingle a roof, re-upholster an armchair, and customize a Bratz doll so its knees bend backwards. that or the fish in this stream are very slow and stupid. it’s cute how earnestly kinn pays attention to porsche’s teachings, and how seriously porsche takes his role of Fishing Instructor (kinn’s giddy little “can i try?” and porsche’s indulgent nod, aaaa!) they’re both so proud and excited when it works, and not just because they’ve now been fasting for like 36 hours. the longer they spend away from Mafia, the more they act like normal guys who just... enjoy being together, laughing and teasing and showing off for each other to pass the time.

they eat that bony, unsalted fishstick very flirtatiously, and there’s a part of me that wants porsche to be more on his guard-- buddy, don’t you remember what happened the last time you thought you were safe with kinn? you know as soon as you go back to your real lives he’s just gonna ice you out again, right? but porsche is too far gone by now: all kinn ever had to do was be a little bit nice to him and he would have swooned, and kinn is being way more than a little nice. He’s being respectful and appreciative. He’s acting like a damn human for once. He’s acting like a friend. (a flirty friend!)

-they strip down to their skivvies and bathe under a waterfall, clinging to each other bare-chestedly. and then they kiss. just briefly, for the pleasure of it, and not as an experiment or a prelude to fucking-- a realization that visibly disturbs kinn as he pulls back from an unbelievably soft and vulnerable-looking porsche. porsche doesn’t even look surprised to be pushed away again, just sort of resigned, but i think it’s telling that for the first time kinn at least makes an effort at smoothing over the moment, rather than escalating it in one direction or another. even making a token effort at restoring normalcy is pretty unusual for him, and shows how much the last 2 days have already changed him: congratulations, kinn! you’re almost at the ethical level of a precocious four-year-old!

-mid-pee-break, kinn jokes that porsche has a smaller dick than him, to which gibe porsche doesn’t react at all. i think the joke is funniest if this is because their dicks are the exact same size, down to the millimeter.

-porsche has a very, very normal reaction to spotting the dead deceased corpse of the man who presumably once owned the truck they’re timesharing, which is: oh fuck that man came out here, couldn’t get back to civilization, and died. we’re can’t get back to civilization, are we going to died too?? kinn has a normal reaction for kinn, which is: hahaha, silly little boy, death means nothing because life means nothing! i would say kinn should get therapy, but i wouldn’t wish him on any psychiatrist.

-they talk about their dreams. porsche’s is to run a beach bar that opens when he feels like it and closes when he gets too drunk to count the money (uh....) and serves whatever food he feels like eating that day. kinn’s ”that’s so you” is kinda funny cause like: on one hand, it could just mean, yeah, how like porsche to want to just run a bar that opens whenever and serves whatever, he’s not serious about anything, he didn’t even specify how many michelin stars his dream bar has! but on the other hand, it’s SO porsche to want a life where he gets to give people good company & a good experience, without it taking everything from him. to cultivate a third place that fulfills him too, rather than wringing himself dry to provide for people who won’t or can’t ever repay him. it’s notable that the only person he doesn’t seem to (at some point) resent "taking care of” is chay, and i suspect it’s because chay reciprocates with effort and affection and a close, trusting bond. why wouldn’t porsche want to chase that feeling? why wouldn’t he dream of providing that kind of warm, comfortable, idyllic experience for his community?

god, i am so sad about the ending this show gives porsche. the more i think about him the sadder it makes me :(

-kinn’s dream, cutely and sadly, was to be a singer; and porsche only gets that out of him by being like, “okay, let’s travel back in time to before tankhun lost his marbles and you became the main family’s figurehead/puppet/sacrificial lamb. did you have a dream then?” kinn’s dream is almost more tragic than porsche’s, because he knows that even if he had achieved it, it would still have been bought and paid for by theerapanyakul, llc. i wonder if this ever bothers kim? i wonder if he even cares about his music, or if it’s just a way to separate from his family/camouflage his hidden machinations. maybe if i could get through any of the scenes where he does... musicky.... things.... i would get an answer. guess i’ll never know!)

-“i tried it once. then i quit.” “so you lost?” “no, I won.” is SUCH a gut-punch. porsche talks kinn into singing, then upsets him by laughing, then soothes him by adorably explaining that he has a beautiful voice but he picked a fucking dorky song to perform. i love these two.

-kinn ruminates on tankhun’s supposed “insanity,” and wonders if on some level he just saw an opportunity to extract himself from the line of succession and went for it. both of kinn’s brothers found a way out. kinn, the heir, future head of the main family, did not. and now the closest he’s come to being happy in years is getting kidnapped and hopelessly lost with a person he’s as infuriated by as attracted to.

-porsche pushes back against this idea-- it’s possible for one extremely traumatic early experience to rewire your brain, he says, because that’s what happened to him: he was in the car crash that killed his parents, spent months in hospital, and didn’t really remember anything until his uncle explained it all to him later. (hm.) kinn makes the somewhat boneheaded observation that at least porsche only has good memories of his parents (bruh!!) (although porsche’s face journey of like, “can you believe this shit? wait i think he’s trying to be nice. uh okay, don’t say anything” is pretty funny). then he inches closer to a real apology for all the cruel bullshit he put porsche through, saying he wishes he could go back in time and take back all the things he did to hurt him. porsche is very nice about it, but it’s still not the apology he deserves, and he knows kinn can do better. the last 48 hours have shown him kinn can do better.

do better, kinn!

#i have to be up in like 4 hours for a stupidly long day. i did this to myself. give me nice screamings to wake up to pls and ty :)#big looks cute in this episode. all anxious and regretful. i love his lil hangdog expression!#i realize this is probably not really PTO for porsche. just let me have this. for the jokes #kinnporsche #kinnporsche episode analysis #porsche pachara kittisawasd #spoilers #kinn theerapanyakul

17 notes · View notes

patrick-zweigs · 1 year

Text

still ready to square up with michael schulman of the new yorker

#i still can’t believe this article and how it make jere sad :(#jeremy strong #sexy hangdog face yes!!#not destined for stardom and the tenor of the article 👎🏻

4 notes · View notes

wimbledon2008 · 1 year

Text

fede has a face that's meant to be gently held

#sad hangdog eyes soft hair lemme cup those sweet cheeks in my palms 🥺#fede valverde #uruguay nt #world cup 2022

5 notes · View notes

july-19th-club · 2 years

Text

Books That Give You Sympathy For John Gaius

#i really was not trying to have that either he doesnt deserve it #but he's so hangdog and indignant and upset . and he has big sad wet eyes . and he's so stupid #locked tomb #locked tomb spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers

9 notes · View notes

dottedsilktie · 27 days

Text

Spring cleaning

Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint

You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March.

Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.

You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.

Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop, Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you.

You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider. You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy, it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.

He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze darts between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.

He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong tone, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.

can you tell i love domestic kento

#jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #gn reader #nanami fluff

753 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 2 months

Text

The Rebounds

When your boyfriend dumps you, Maki and Yuuta know exactly how to cheer you up.

I don't normally write "aged up" fics but...here we go.

Warnings: 18+, soft!Dom Yuuta and less-soft!Dom Maki (bit of a drill sergeant really), lingerie, sex toys, threesome, double-penetration, alcohol use

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You're...breaking up with me? After everything I've done for you-- don't you dare hang up-- bastard!"

You flung your phone across the sofa, burying your face in your hands, barely suppressing a tearful, infuriated scream. He was shit, but he was yours, and he had the audacity to toss you out like yesterday's newspaper--

A knock on your door. Not caring who it was, you snapped, shouting.

"Fuck off! I'm not home."

"Hey! Lose the attitude." Your door swept open with a bang, rattling against the wall. Maki stepped in without apology, dropping a bagged Cursed weapon on your doorstep, "You're the one who asked me to bring this--...what's up with you? Are you crying?"

Yuuta peered in behind Maki, dark hangdog eyes spotting you, concerned; "Crying? Hey, what's happened?" Yuuta nudged past Maki, stepping over to you, and grasping your shoulders, soft calloused hands surprisingly strong against your skin.

Arms around your knees, you hid your face, ashamed for being such a blotchy mess; "He dumped me. Just...called me up, and dumped me. Like I'm trash."

Yuuta's face crumpled for you, the briefest flash of anger, overlaid with sympathy. He opened his mouth to speak, Maki interrupting.

"Finally. That piece of shit was never worth yo--"

"Maki," chided Yuuta, still stroking your shoulders, gripping and possessive. Maki tsked, arms folded, turning aside, hovering between you and the door.

"...you shouldn't waste your time worrying about that guy," Maki offered, voice tight but softer now. She was silent for a moment, and Yuuta looked to her, silent agreement passing between them.

"She's right," offered Yuuta, bright, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, cupping your tearstained face. Yuuta looked to Maki again, a glint of something odd in his eyes. Maki nodded, barely perceptible.

"...in fact, you should come with us. We're going out! Dinner, drinks...we'll show you a good time instead, yeah?"

You prickled with shame again, eyes squeezing shut as Yuuta shushed you, pulling you to your feet, pushing you to Maki who began to bustle you to your bedroom while you argued weakly; "--...no, guys, I-- I'm not third wheeling, I don't need you to take me with you out of pity-- I'm interrupting--"

They spoke over you, Yuuta still holding you by the shoulders from behind while Maki perused your wardrobe.

"--'third wheeling', psh--"

"How could we ever pity our lovely friend--'

"--not interrupting anything, what do you think this is, huh--"

"Just some drinks, some dinner, maybe a bit of shopping..."

Maki held up a little red dress, looking to Yuuta; Yuuta nodded. Maki flicked her hand at Yuuta, banishing him from the room, before stepping to you, brandishing the dress.

"Get changed," she ordered, "or I'll do it for you."

You pouted, grumbling, beginning to strip while Maki rummaged for shoes. She pulled out some trainers, comparing them to your dress. Her eyes narrowed at you, half dressed, turning aside again and holding the shoes out to you.

"These. You'll look...cute." You scoffed, brushing your hair, making yourself presentable.

When you stepped out, Yuuta looked you up and down approvingly, catching Maki's eye again with that same unreadable glint; "His loss! You're our pretty girl for today then, huh?" You blushed, churlish that their attempts to cheer you up were working.

And treat you well they did, knowing you as only old friends do. Within a few hours, you found yourself smiling again, laughing alongside them as you ate, all of you handsy and affectionate; Maki, feeding you as Yuuta took photos of you both, eyes soft and full of love; Yuuta, reaching over to whirl little circles on your inner wrist; both of them, leaning in close, pressing against you as you broke down, sobbing quietly into your soju.

You hiccuped, the floral alcohol cut with your salty tears; "I just...I just don't understand why...why I'm not good enough..." you gulped, knocking back another shot.

"You're beautiful," Maki snipped, bluntly refilling all of your glasses, "and he couldn't see that." She slipped an arm round you from behind, her fine slim fingers coiling over your hip, stroking you.

"But we can," Yuuta cooed, "and we'll treat you like you deserve to be treated...because you are beautiful." His fingers continued to draw soft circles on your palm, your inner wrist, heading up your soft sensitive forearm. You shivered, the alcohol making your nerves electric, receptive. Yuuta smiled at your shiver, face leaned on one palm, eyes dark as they trailed, intoxicated, down your body. He sighed.

"I don't think she believes us, you know," he said to Maki. Maki huffed, her fingertips kneading at your hip as she tugged you closer. She took another shot, refilling her glass and pressing it to your lips.

"Open up," she commanded, smirking as you swallowed, some of the sweet wine dripping down your neck and breasts in your haste. You felt Maki's breath catch as her eyes followed the droplet.

"You're all sticky," Maki chastised, her finger grazing the drop away, pressing into your mouth so you could suck it off her finger, "...messy girl." Your skin burned, feeling like forbidden fruit beneath their touch. Yuuta watched you suck the soju off Maki's finger, the strange glimmer in his eyes growing deeper as his head dipped downwards, fringe flicking forward over his eyes.

"You're right," he hummed to Maki, whirling his glass, eyes still dipped and flinty as he took in Maki's arm around your waist; the way she pressed a kiss to your temple; how you slumped against her, supple and seeking warmth; how your fingers twitched as his drew hearts over your inner arm.

"She is messy," Yuuta continued, finishing the last of the soju, "we should...get her cleaned up, huh?" Maki smiled into your hair, humming, laughing as you trembled under her warm, botanical breath.

"Guys," you hummed, swoopy and warm with the drink, "you don't have to do this--"

"Have to?" Yuuta laughed, pulling you forwards by the forearm so you were nose to nose with him for a moment, close enough that his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, farqq enough to almost be an accident; "We don't have to...we want to. You deserve the best date. Right, Maki?"

Maki was already up, a smile at the corner of her mouth as she helped you to stand. You blushed, sputtering.

"--a date, I--guys--"

"Friends can go on dates," Maki insisted, her arm round your waist as Yuuta loped beside you, bopping his forehead to your shoulder, "but while we're here...there's something I'd like to get. Come on."

You were steered into a lingerie shop, suddenly surrounded by fragrant musk, silk, lace and erotica. You laughed as Yuuta gripped you by the waist, twirling you in the low lights. He smiled, pulling you into his deceptive softness, penetrating your defences. He dipped you back to some unheard tune, leaning down to bracket you, whispering;

"See anything you like?"

With his gaze fixed firmly on you, your eyes caressed the bras, chemises, the beautiful indulgent treasures. Yuuta saw your eyes linger on a set, and nosed your jaw;

"That one, huh? You're so pretty anyway, and that one would be..." Yuuta left the sentence unfinished, and you became acutely aware of his closeness, body flush to his lean strength, something so dangerously hypnotic about him. You felt undressed, already, in his arms.

Maki had reappeared, a subtle paper bag in her hands. She communicated wordlessly with Yuuta, again, following your gaze. Rifling through the rails, and casting an appraising eye over your body, Maki settled and headed to pay. Opening your mouth to argue again, your breath caught as Yuuta pulled you up from your dip, the drink and attention rushing to your head once more, feeling so loved, so wanted. Maki cast her eyes up and down you both, slow, predatory.

"Home?" So much unspoken promise, from just one word. Maki's eyes lapped at your body, enough to make you tremble. Yuuta and Maki held you between them. You could hardly remember the journey home, their touches edging you somewhere between uncertainty and euphoria. You accepted it without question, as you had always accepted their love.

Stepping into your apartment, Yuuta closed the door behind you. He stayed with his back to you, fingers tapping against the door handle. You had leaned, head tipped back against the wall, sighing, softly drunk, heartbeat between your legs. You tipped your head to look at Yuuta questioningly as he spoke, his voice quiet and measured.

"Hey, Maki...go and get set up, yeah? I don't...I don't think I can wait any longer," he finished weakly, laughter on his breath. Maki smirked, her burns like a bed of rose petals in the low light.

"Alright." Maki leaned in, pressing lingering kisses to your forehead, your nose, hovering just so above your lips. Her fingertips brushed your jaw, and she whispered; "Yuuta's gonna get you warmed up, okay baby?"

Maki walked away, taking your breath with her. Yuuta filled the gap, and you burned alive under their attentions, his hands pressed to the wall either side of you, trapping you in his gravity.

"What do you deserve, pretty girl?" He whispered, shaky with restraint. All the wrong answers tried to claw their way out of you; Yuuta's eyes beseeched you to choose better for yourself, his lips achingly close to yours. You bit, to Yuuta's satisfied smile, choosing better.

"Y-you," you stuttered, meltingly desperate, "I deserve you."

Yuuta responded with a kiss; his self-restraint snapped, and he overlaid your body with his against the wall, melding to you as his hands tangled into your hair and his mouth to yours. You could taste the soju on his tongue, and you moaned softly, opening your mouth to him. Yuuta responded in kind, tilting your head to the side, his palms cupping your face, lips wet and trembling.

You could feel the breaths caught in his chest as his tongue stroked against yours, fingernails scratching at your scalp, hot and needy. Yuuta shunted his knee forward between your thighs, pinning you against the wall, one hand dropping to your hip, brushing under the hem of your dress to yank you down, pussy flush against his wiry thigh.

Pulling back, panting, Yuuta squeezed your cheeks in one hand, forcing your lips into a pout. Gritting his teeth, growling softly through them, he gave your face a gentle affectionate shake; "You taste like peaches, cutie, I always knew you would."

You squirmed, rutting yourself on his thigh, eager for relief in your aching core. Still squeezing your cheeks, giving them one soft slap, Yuuta tipped your face so you looked down at his thigh, his cock straining against the material of his trousers.

"I'll be honest...we've been waiting for you to break up with him. Even better that he ditched you...should we send him some pictures? Huh?" Reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone, Yuuta turned your squished pouting face to the camera, and, pressing his lips hard to your puffy cheek, took a photo.

Yuuta groaned to feel you still humping him, desperate for friction. His hands dropped to your hips, rutting you against his thigh. He bit his lip, breathless, shaky as he tucked up your dress, watching your wet underwear barely covering your pussy, sliding against him. He laughed, soft, barely holding himself back from lifting you up and taking you against the wall.

"Oh baby," he teased, "not like this-- you deserve better--...and Maki's feeling left out, right?"

You jumped to hear Maki's voice to your right, head tipping as Yuuta lapped lazily at the fabric covering your nipples, spit seeping through, warm and wet; "I dunno...you two are putting on quite a show. Come to the bedroom. Date's not over yet." Yuuta moaned against your breasts, feeling their plush heave against his lips, his cock jumping against his thigh.

"Come on, peaches," he whispered, breath cooling your spit-wet breasts, "You've got a pretty outfit...it's Maki's turn with you...and I wanna watch."

Yuuta drew back from you, panting, gripping his cock through the light fabric of his trousers. If Maki hadn't stepped in, lifting you, wrapping your legs round her waist, your trembling knees would surely have given out. Nuzzling her nose against your mouth, stealing light kisses along the way, Maki chuckled, smirking; "You taste like Yuuta." You bit your lip, suddenly shy, nuzzling your face into Maki's neck as she laid you down softly onto your bed.

The room flickered with dulcet candlelight, smelling something fruity and familiar. Maki stood over you, taking a sip from a bottle as Yuuta crept in behind you, settling in an armchair beside the bed, still pawing at his aching cock.

"Wait-- Maki-- don't swallow...you should let her have a taste," Yuuta pressed, watching with hungry, hooded eyes as Maki hummed, smiling down at you. She leaned over you, one knee pressed between your thighs, one arm over your head, and pressed her pursed lips to yours. Kissing deeply and forming a seal, Maki slowly eked her tongue between your lips, drops of warm peach soju moving from her mouth to yours.

The body-warmed fumes rose up your nose, filling you with sweet botanical delight, bringing you back to the hazy drunk warmth you had felt during dinner, as Yuuta had stroked your arm so sweetly. Maki deepened the kiss, thrumming with excitement as she heard Yuuta unbuckle and unzip himself, letting his cock fall, hard and twitching, onto his belly.

Maki pulled your dress down your shoulders, trapping your arms for a moment, until they released, the red fabric sliding all the way down and pooling over your lap. Maki grasped your underwear with it, shooting Yuuta a wicked look; "Don't look-- she isn't dressed yet."

Yuuta laughed, one hand lazily pumping his cock, and he brought the other up over his eyes, still grinning. You couldn't take your eyes off him, stroking himself to Maki kissing peaches into you, masturbating to her rolling your clothes down off your body. Yuuta listened instead, his hearing piqued to the soft fabric rustle of your dress hitting the floor, and Maki lifting the dusty-rose chemise out of the bag.

"Taste like a peach...look like a peach," she pressed, brushing the chemise over your bare breasts, mouth watering at how your nipples pebbled and peaked under the sheer chiffon. Maki leaned into you again, ghosting her lips over yours; she caught your eyes, dragging your gaze over to Yuuta, biting her lip-- "If you think Yuuta's cock looks pretty now...wait until you're all dressed up."

"Maki!" Yuuta whined, his cock pre-cum-wet and twitching in his fist, his eyes still covered, "Stop. You'll make me blush." He paused, his hand and breath hesitant, "Is she...is she watching me?"

Maki grinned, wicked; "mmmmmhm." Yuuta groaned, long and anguished, squeezing the base of his cock again to stop himself from spilling over his lap, squeezing the hand over his eyes. Maki only laughed, standing back, pacing like an animal as you slipped into the pink chemise, split at the front, lighter than blossoms.

"Oh, Yuuta...you should see her," Maki praised, and you blushed, feeling so much more desirable under the gaze of a beautiful woman over a man, "she really is lovely." Yuuta had slowly dropped his hand from his eyes, hand cupping his cockhead with a shiver as he drank you in, supple and glassy-eyed beneath Maki, who rolled two pink rubber buds between her fingers.

Taking another sip of her soju, leaning in to kiss you again, you felt Maki graze something over the barely-there fabric covering your nipples. Suddenly so thirsty, lifting your hands to tangle in her short hair, Maki moaned into you as you kissed harder, drinking from her, desperate for more. Finally, you spoke.

"Maki, I-- don't leave me like this, give me something," you whimpered, your clit throbbing and needy, knowing you needed the barest of touches to bring you to completion.

"Don't be a brat," Maki chastised, making you blush and bite your lip up at her, "Or can you not wait? Do you want me to stop? Yuuta, shall I stop?"

"No!" You cried, you and Yuuta simultaneous in your desperation, him edging his weeping cock so fervently, you thrumming with the need for release, the day's little touches and promises and drink, all rolling into the slowest orgasm you had ever had built.

Maki smirked, and abruptly clamped two rubbery clips over your nipples, pinched hard beneath rosy fabric. You squealed, and cried out, bucking as she switched them on, sharp vibrations shooting through your nipples, tugging like a fishing line, making your clit throb with need.

Maki watched you writhe, slowly stripping her own clothes, hesitating for a moment as her burns became bare in the candlelight. Yuuta felt her, shaking with closely controlled restraint as he looked at her and you, eyes sticky-sweet.

"--my two beautiful girls, huh?" He grinned, circling his cockhead with a wet thumb, "...how did I...ever get so lucky?" Maki blushed, biting her lip as she finished stripping, looking down at you, mewling and squirming, in awe. She knelt down over you, smiling, a long, vibrating dildo at her fingertips.

"Yeah...you're right. We struck gold." Maki watched you, captivated as you babbled, whimpering, begging, tears streaming down into your hair. Yuuta felt a drip of sweat run down his chest, unbuttoning himself, letting his top sit open, releasing his cock with clenched knuckles, eager not to spend himself until he could be inside you.

Maki squeezed lube onto your glistening pussy, making you jolt and shiver with the sudden cold, until Maki shushed you again, kissing you firmly; "Be patient...I'll warm it up." You and Yuuta moaned, both twisting in divine bliss as Maki slipped her slim fingers between your folds, finding your clit with the expert precision of another woman, circling it with two delicate fingers, alternating pressure, toying with you.

"Inside," Yuuta barked, authoritative in his desperation, huffing, his cock twitching against his belly, "--tell me-- tell me how she feels, Maki." Maki obliged, her fingers dipping lower, grazing over your entrance, covering you with cum-slick lube.

"...silky..." Maki described, to Yuuta's chipped groans, "...and..." Maki hit your knees with her own, spreading your thighs wide, baring you to her, and she plunged two fingers deep inside your fluttering cunt, gasping with delight, "...tight...like wet velvet."

Yuuta cursed under his breath, his head tipped back, hand clasped over his mouth as he began to pump his cock again, jerking himself back to the edge. Maki pumped her fingers into your sloppy pussy, bringing one thumb up to work on your clit.

You came embarrassingly fast, the accumulated touches throughout the course of the day too much, and you felt your arousal trickle out over Maki's fingers. Her eyes furious with focus, Maki continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you, her thumb moving to stimulate your clit from another angle, expert in her gentle overstimulation.

Maki bit her lip, thrilled by her own unmet need, throbbing under Yuuta's obsessive stare. The self-denial while watching you fall apart beneath her was delicious. You cried out, clutching her arms, trying to wiggle your hips away from her as she yanked you back to her, hushing you.

"Come on, baby," she pushed, "just one more...then you can have Yuuta's cock, 'cos he can't last any longer." One sideways glance to Yuuta, arched backwards and serene with the edge of his orgasm, sent you over the edge again, and he gripped the base of his cock once more as you arched, crying out, lights popping in your vision and fizzing down your body.

"Maki--" Yuuta urged, voice brittle with need, "--my turn-- need her now--" Maki huffed at Yuuta's lack of self-restraint, smirking at him, whining, hand wet with pre-cum. Maki lifted you up off the bed, soft and floppy, knees still hanging over the edge, and Yuuta slipped underneath you, mirroring your position, eagerly lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance. As he moved to push into you, his arms gripping you from behind, an arresting clasp across your chest and belly, Maki gripped him by the cock, stopping him as he cried out, voice hoarse.

"Hey, did I say she was ready?" Maki sniped, rolling her eyes as you and Yuuta moaned and argued with her. Her hands still covered in lube, she took the vibrating dildo she'd been fingering for so long, rolling it in lube and your generous, sticky cum. You trembled, reading Maki's intent immediately.

"Maki, I-- they won't-- won't both fit," you squeaked, Maki humming at your meagre protests as she rubbed the dildo at your entrance, switching on the vibration and edging it slowly past your swollen, puffy entrance.

"I dunno," she mused, "I wanna see how fast Yuuta cums like this." Yuuta shuddered, his cock still gripped in Maki's hand, Yuuta squeezing you harder above him as you trembled and shook, the dildo hitting your cervix, sending vibrations deep into your belly.

Maki stroked Yuuta's cock, throbbing in her hand as he bucked, teeth gritted, sweating with restraint; "Maki," he snapped, "let me fuck her-- I swear to god I'll kick your--"

"--careful special grade. Don't threaten me with a good time." Yuuta coughed, tormented, blinkered by his own impending orgasm as you writhed, blinded by your own pleasure in his arms. Maki was almost overcome by the sight of you both in blissful agony beneath her, almost cumming untouched, the tension of the build-up so much better than the payoff.

Maki finally released him, dropping to her knees between yours and Yuuta's. She lifted your legs, draping them over Yuuta's thighs, and pushed Yuuta's knees, forcing your legs to spread. She kept the dildo vibrating inside you, juddering with incoordinate twitches now, floating above yourself.

Finally released, Yuuta bit into your shoulder, groaning in your ear as his cock started to press into you alongside the vibrating dildo, stretching your pussy more than it had ever been stretched, so full, from cunt to belly; "Just hold onto me, peaches, yeah?"

In one swift thrust, Yuuta bottomed out, shouting and cursing, his cock gripped by the slick, impossibly tight heat of your pussy, the dildo vibrating relentlessly against the underside of his length.

"--oh my--shit, Maki, 's too muc, fuck! Ohhh fuck-- fuck-- fuck--"

Maki leaned in, two fingers rolling over her clit as she lapped yours into her mouth, flicking her tongue across you, sucking, nipping, tasting the peach lube she had covered you with. Lost in this semi-drunk haze, she continued to edge herself to the sight of you, spasming in forced orgasm after orgasm, under her mouth.

Yuuta rutted up into you helplessly, arms shaking around you. His seed spattered your cervix and the dildo white, cumming so violently that he curled in on himself beneath you, forcing you to curl with him. Maki watched it all, pupils blown, stroking her clit just enough to keep herself from orgasm.

You continued to pant and whimper, still so full, your pussy clenching urgently, wildly overstimulated. Maki took pity on you both, switching the dildo off, slipping it out of you and letting it drop with a wet cum-splatter. It pulled Yuuta's dripping cock out with it, and you whined, suddenly so empty, Yuuta nuzzling and kissing your cheeks, trying to bring you both down from your high. He chuckled, breathless in your ear

"What a date, huh? You should get dumped again, sometime."

927 notes · View notes

mariocki · 2 years

Text

Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 215/?

Gerry Rafferty - Get it Right Next Time (1979)

"Life is a liar,

Yeah, life is a cheat,

It'll lead you on and pull the ground from underneath your feet.

No use complaining,

Don't you worry, don't you whine,

Cos if you get it wrong

You'll get it right next time,

Next time.

You gotta grow,

You gotta learn by your mistakes;

You gotta die a little everyday just to try to stay awake."

#favourite lyrics #gerry rafferty #get it right next time #1979 #night owl #Gerry was coming off the platinum selling City to City and the near incalculable success of Baker Street when he started work on Night Owl #that massive hit had brought him both artistic recognition‚ which he craved‚ and celebrity‚ which he loathed #inundated with offers of collaborations and tours‚ he ignored most of them and concentrated on his next album; perhaps inevitably it #was (although a significant success) no match for his previous sales. i doubt it bothered him particularly. Gerry was always a complex #artist‚ one for whom press scrutiny and material success sat awkwardly with his desire to simply create. he wrote and produced Night #Owl as well as playing multiple instruments‚ and into it he poured not only his talent but‚ as he so often did‚ his soul and #personality. always an autobiographical writer‚ there are elements of his dissatisfaction with his newfound celebrity status bleeding into #his lyrics (in particular the wryly reflective Take the Money and Run). Get it Right feels like the other side of the coin;#an reminder to himself to worry less about perfection and agonising over the ultimate expression of his art #but instead to be more easygoing‚ to rely more on the instinctual lessons that more than a decade in the industry had afforded him ('After #a while you get to recognise the signs') and perhaps ultimately to treat the whole thing a little less seriously. im not convinced Gerry #ever managed that; he remained a consummate perfectionist‚ and his professional output only slowed as his happiness within the industry #lessened. Gerry was a complicated man‚ a true artist but suffering from mental health issues and addiction which would come to dominate #his later life. but he was also a lyricist of rare beauty‚ and this song‚ an unusually kind and empathetic note of self reflection‚ remains #(although still delivered in his familiar hangdog resigned style) a moment of all too rare recognition for the man within the artist #i still miss you gerry

1 note · View note

tsukimefuku · 10 days

Text

whimperer 𖦹 higuruma hiromi

minors do not interact (mdni)

pairing: higuruma hiromi x f!reader

summary: you wondered why hiromi always seemed to not be enjoying himself fully in bed, and the answer is definitely not something you expected.

cw: fluff, implied smut at the end, some hurt if you squint very hard, positive talking about sex.

wc: 800

notes etc.: just a short little drabble i had roaming in my head today. i’d like to send my heart to all the very vocal men — i love you all.

Maybe it was an ex-girlfriend, some one-night stands, or perhaps the not-so appropriate videos he watched in the past, but Hiromi had a deep seated belief that his whimpering during sex would be a tremendous turn off. For that reason, every time you were having sex, he’d be unconsciously clenching his hand on the top of the mattress as he very consciously clenched his jaw shut, trying to keep any sound from coming out.

”Hiromi, can I ask you a question?” you inquired, cup of tea in hand as you both sat on the couch.

”That was already a question, my love,” he answered, to which you scoffed and softly slapped his shoulder. He smiled and waited for you to proceed.

You were a little insecure, but figured these types of things should be talked through eventually, so why not do it now?

”Am I… hm… doing something wrong in bed?”

Your face blushed a little and you looked away, somewhat embarrassed.

He looked shocked.

”Uh… what?”

”I mean…” you cleared your throat, a little more determined, looking at him, “you’re always so silent. Sometimes I wonder if you’re liking it, or if I’m doing something wrong, or… I don’t know.”

Hiromi shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, trying to grasp the realignment of his worldview happening in real time.

”I… Of course I like it, love. You’re not doing anything wrong, I promise,” he stated, pulling your hand towards his mouth to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles, “It’s just that… this is embarrassing, but I-I…”

Hiromi began stuttering as he looked away with the hint of a frown on his face.

You put your hand on his knee and reassured him, “hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me. I love you.”

His eyes met yours again and he seemed to relax, even if just a little.

”It’s that… I whimper.”

It took a moment for you to register what he said.

”You… whimper? During sex, you mean?”

His face and ears became a dusty pink.

”Yes.”

”And… why would that be a problem?” you asked him in earnest.

”I mean, it’s kind of a turn off having a man that’s a whimpering mess all over you,” he shrugged, as if what he said was the most obvious thing in the world.

You looked at him unwavering, wondering where this obviety tone was coming from.

”Says who?”

Hiromi blinked a few times, at a loss for words.

”I’ve heard complaints before,” he replied, still unsure.

You put your tea cup on the coffee table and draped your thigh over his, having Hiromi shudder softly in response. You caught both of his hands and put them on your leg, giving a soft peck on his cheek.

”I’d like to hear it, please.”

Hiromi looked at you surprised, and you continued.

”I feel that you use up so much attention trying to hold it back that you don’t enjoy yourself as much as you could be enjoying. I mean… If you’d like that.”

It was clearly a sensitive topic for him, so he should be the one to decide if he’d actually want to try letting himself loose.

Hiromi seemed pensive as he began rubbing his thumbs on your thighs, caressing just the hem of your skirt. His warm hands over your skin sent shivers all throughout your body.

”I think I would,” he finally answered, looking at you with those perfect hangdog eyes you were already so familiar with.

You smiled at him, edging your face closer to his.

”Okay, then.”

He smiled briefly before brushing his lips over yours, finally pressing your mouths together in a slow kiss. Your hand traveled towards the nape of his neck, and your fingers slid up his black strands kneading at his scalp, as you finally reached the top of his head to tug at his hair.

He whimpered into your mouth, and you could swear that it reverberated through your entire body, all the way to the middle of your legs.

He tensed up at the involuntary sound and parted from you. However, his gaze kept locked on your face, studying your reaction to that, wondering if he had been right all along.

That it was, indeed, a turn off.

”You know what?” you let out, feeling your face warming a little bit.

Hiromi felt a ghostly fear creeping up on him, sure you’d give up on this silly idea now that you knew what he truly sounded like. He braced himself for what he thought would be terrible news.

”Tell me.”

”I think I actually really like it,” you answered, getting flustered at the admission.

He was very surprised, considerably relieved and lowkey delighted.

”Come on, let’s see what other sounds you make,” you teased, straddling his lap as he let out a chuckle.

Oh, did he whimper that night.

And much to your surprise, you found out that you were a whimperer too… at least when you were hearing those delicious notes tumbling out of his mouth.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma #higuruma x reader #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma smut #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #hiromi jjk #Fuku writes #Tsukimefuku

211 notes · View notes

azzibuckets · 14 days

Text

Paper Rings [Part 7/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you might be falling for paige again. or not?

word count: 1.5k

masterlist w/ previous parts

PRESENT DAY

True to her word, Paige stayed away from you the entire night, boxing herself into a small group of freshmen that you’d never met. You were glad she wasn’t bothering you, but there was a small part of you that craved her attention, and missed the way she used to be all over you in settings like this.

“So,” Nika grinned. “How’s life been?”

You tipped your glass of Coke to your mouth, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid running down your throat and awakening you with the bubbly sugar. “Alright. I’ve missed you guys. I’m sorry I haven’t really reached out.”

Nika patted your leg. “Don’t even worry about it. You know you can always come hang.” She looked around before whispering under her breath, “I know Paige is killing herself right now trying not to talk to you.” She nodded to the corner of the room, and you looked to see Paige sitting gloomily, all hangdog and staring at her hands. You both laughed, and Paige’s eyes snapped up, meeting your gaze from across the room.

You held eye contact with her for a beat longer than you should’ve, and a small smile crept onto her lips. You forced yourself to avert your eyes back down to your coke, taking another swig to strengthen your resolve. You didn’t come to Nika’s for Paige, you reminded yourself.

The gathering slowly started to die down. One by one, the coaches and other student volunteers that worked for the team left, until it was just the players and you. That was when Aaliyah called for everyone’s attention. “Girls,” she announced. “Guess what I got.” With a conniving glint in her eyes, she pulled out a white keycard from her pocket, and everyone started going feral.

You nudged Nika. “Am I missing something?”

Nika flounced up and grabbed the key card from Aaliyah. “This,” she said, shoving it in your face. “Is the key to the pool deck. Aaliyah’s been talking to a guy who keeps bragging about he stole it from a janitor and now has 24/7 access to the pool, and she finally got it.”

Everyone hollered in celebration, and started to eagerly move like a pack to the door. “Whoa whoa whoa,” Paige said. “Where are we going?”

“Come on, P, it’s time for a night swim!” Nika cheered, grabbing Paige by the shoulders and moving her towards the door too.

You’re gonna end up having seizures trying to keep up with the pace of this team, you thought to yourself. You rushed after the group of girls, praying that you wouldn’t have to save anyone tonight.

———————-

You don’t know how a loud and rowdy group of fifteen girls managed to make their way across campus and sneak into the pool deck without getting caught, but before you knew it, everyone was stripping their clothes on the deck into their bras and underwater. You joined them with no qualms. The water was your safe place, and it would be refreshing after the day that you’d had.

Wrapping your hair up into a bun, you were about to dive into the enticing blue of the water when you saw Paige hanging in the back, away from the other girls with all her clothes still on. Your stomach dropped - you had totally forgotten about Paige’s fear of swimming, and you felt like a terrible person.

Reaching to undo your bun, you made your way past the girls. Paige was now sitting down, leg jumping nervously.

“Hey.” You hesitated for a second before gently sitting down next to her. You made sure to leave enough space so that there was no way your elbows or legs or any of your body parts could touch. You weren’t sure what you’d do, if you would be able to control yourself, if your bare skin made contact with hers.

Paige slowly inhaled, leaning her head against the wall. “You can get in, Y/N. I think you might have to play lifeguard tonight.” She laughed at her own joke, but it was dry and artificial.

“I can play lifeguard from outside the pool. That way it’ll be more dramatic when I save them. You know, with the whole running and diving and all that.” Your tone was light-hearted, and you noticed Paige’s eyebrows quirk.

She wiped her hands against her sweatpants. “I should probably get in,” she muttered. “The girls are gonna wonder why I’m still sitting here.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied softly. Paige loved being confident. She hated being seen as anything but bold and fearless, so she was always embarrassed about her insecurities. It was an issue you had to work through with her, to get her to show you her vulnerable side because she had such a hard time opening up to anyone. But you had done it, and Paige had confided in you; and although it was easy for most other people, it took a lot for her to admit that she was deathly scared of drowning. She’d begged you not to tell anyone, and of course you’d sworn not to. You understood her fears, but you’d hated how she looked down on herself and refused to show any weaknesses.

Paige vehemently shook her head. “No, I want to.” Her tone was still uncertain, but you knew not to question her when she was set on doing something. “Let me, uh, change.”

You licked your lips. “Oh, yeah. Just, um, let me know when you’re done. I’ll get in with you.” You situated yourself at the edge of the pool, with your legs dangling in the water. Most of the other girls were already in, splashing around and doing handstands in the shallow end (thankfully).

Paige slowly waded into the pool through the stairs, and you hopped off the edge, plunging yourself into the water. You gave yourself a moment to submerge yourself completely underwater, loving the peaceful feeling when all the voices and noise disappeared, and all you could hear were the bubbles around you. Without bothering to come up for air, you swam to where Paige was and popped up right next to her.

Paige shrieked and toppled back, but you grabbed her hand before she could fall back. “You’re okay,” you murmured, instinctively bringing her closer to you. Droplets of water clung to her long eyelashes and made their way down the sharp edge of her jawline. Her hair was slicked back with water, dark now, and the muscles of her biceps glistened in the lighting. Paige’s hand glanced down your waist, and you were suddenly aware of your bodies pressed flush against each other.

“Ayo, Paige! Y/N! Stop making googly eyes at each other and come play chicken fight!”

Blushing, you hurriedly separated your bodies, pushed away from the blonde and swimming to the rest of the girls. They had all formed a messy circle, jostling around. “I wanna go against Paige,” Azzi challenged, poking the blonde’s shoulder.

You saw Paige give you a nervous look. Despite all the bitterness and resentment lingering between the two of you, you knew you couldn’t abandon her like this. “I’ll pair up with Paige,” you volunteered. Her shoulders relaxed and she sent you a grateful smile, and you could’ve kissed her right there.

As Azzi chose her partner, you whispered in Paige’s ear. “Don’t worry, okay? You’re not gonna drown. I’ll be here the whole time. Or, you know, on top of you,” you assured her. Paige’s eyes widened before she remembered that you were only talking about chicken fight. Get your mind out of the gutter, she chastised herself.

You got onto Paige’s shoulders, and her arms came up to grasp your legs firmly. One hand ran down your thighs and down your knee, and you gasped at the unexpected sensation, before Paige’s hand flew back up as if she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to touch you like that. Exhaling, you placed your hands on her head for stability, and you could feel her shiver.

Azzi, now atop Aaliyah’s shoulders, faced off with you. You took turns pushing each at each other, with the two girls wobbling beneath you, but Azzi was strong, and in the end she managed to catch you off guard and send you crashing into the water.

You felt two hands wrap around your hips and guide you up as you resurfaced. “You okay?” Paige breathed. She couldn’t help but lightly squeeze your hips, her thumb tracing circles across your skin.

You’d never wanted to kiss Paige more than then, when she was looking at you with so much concern and worry in your eyes. Her bottom lip was slightly jutted out, and you wanted to sink your teeth into it. All her hair was swept over one shoulder, her other shoulder exposed. It was tight with muscle and shining bare, and you wondered at what the skin there would taste like.

No, no, no. You could not be thinking of Paige like this. This was the same girl who had used you, who had ended your friendship after she’d slept with you, as if the only thing she’d cared about was taking your virginity like a notch on her bedpost.

You placed your hands over her hands that were still on your waist, gently removing them. “I think I need to go,” you mumbled. You needed to get out and create as much distance between you and Paige possible. She was breaking your inhibitions again, and you couldn’t, you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall to her traps again. Your heart throbbed as a shadow of disappointment fell across her face, but you turned around with finality to say goodbye to the other girls.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #friends to lovers #enemies to lovers

171 notes · View notes

delirious-donna · 28 days

Text

Coffee And A Smoke [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: another suggestion for Hiromi that I couldn’t pass up. I feel like this has potential for more but I’d really have to do some plotting and brain crunching before I could commit.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: smoking (is it obvious from this that I don’t smoke and never have? I hope not but…), SFW, very light flirting if you squint, mention of toxic habits, alcohol mention

Masterlist

Higuruma always felt a pang of sympathy for new starts. They had a habit of reminding him of his earliest days as a freshly qualified lawyer, his excitement to change the world and be the type not to back away from the difficult fights.

For a while, he had been that man and took on David and Goliath level cases to test his resolve, to prove that a person with enough determination and hard work could be the victor. Sadly, it didn’t last long.

He hoped you wouldn’t fall from grace quite so quickly or inelegantly as he had once done. Hiromi might not care for his reputation being tarnished these days, the dross he was tossed like it was a kindness to him, but he would never wish it upon anyone else.

You appeared only a handful of years younger than he was, and he wondered if you were maybe late to the career. It made him wonder how bad your previous line of work might have been to make you consider this circle of hell as your new livelihood. There was more than a chance that he would never know, he didn’t exactly draw people to him in the workplace. Rather he was looked upon mostly like a kicked puppy that everyone felt sorry for but never approached to comfort for fear of catching fleas.

Picking up his pen, the chewed end finding its home between his teeth, Hiromi returned to his work and put you out of his mind.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the man over in the far corner?” You wondered aloud, the young secretary designated to be your ‘day one buddy’ glanced in the direction you were looking and visibly grimaced.

“Another day. He’s busy,” she countered with a wave of her hand.

Frowning at her dismissive tone and attitude, you looked over again and met with tired, hangdog eyes. He blinked, seeming unperturbed and gave a small bow of his head before turning back to his screen. There was something about this man, you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out, but something intrigued you more than it should.

The interaction did not go unnoticed. “That’s Higuruma Hiromi. He’s rather… particular about the cases he takes. Generally, he keeps to himself.”

You wondered if he was lonely, or maybe not well versed in socialising. Whatever it was, there was an aura surrounding his corner of the large office, like a perpetual rain cloud that threatened to rain but the cloud never burst.

With so much to learn and an entire new work environment to navigate, you quickly forgot all about the mysterious Higuruma and focused on finding your feet.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later did you find yourself in his presence. After a tortuous phone call with a troublesome client, you found yourself in desperate need to indulge in the bad habit you had sworn you’d given up, a cigarette.

Stepping outside into the small office courtyard, you fumbled for the emergency packet buried in the depths of your bag. You cursed when you realised you might have the actual cigarette you craved, but there wasn’t a lighter in sight, not even tucked away in one of the handy dandy compartments.

“Need a light?”

You whirled around and nearly landed on your behind at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Higuruma who had the good grace to look sheepish for scaring you out of your skin.

“It seems so,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer as the man held out his lighter and flicked the flame into life for you. “I don’t smoke often.”

Higuruma hummed in understanding, glancing down at his own half-finished cigarette, tapping away the excess ash. “I’d like to say the same, but I’m out here more often than I’d like.”

That first inhale felt like heaven, the heat in your throat a familiar sensation and you held the thick smoke in your mouth as long as you could manage, finally blowing it out in a steady stream into the sky.

“Bad habit?” You asked, leaning against the metal railing that enclosed the small courtyard space. It was cool even through your trousers, grounding you back into the here and now.

“I have a lot of those, smoking is probably the least bothersome. I can go days without a single cigarette, or I could smoke two packets within a single office day. There never seems to be an in between,” he joked.

It was hard not to appraise him whilst you both stood there, enjoying your respective cigarettes. His shirt wasn’t quite the brilliant white of a new or well cared for garment, nor were the tailored creases in his trousers especially neat or crisp. The tie around his throat was loose as if restless fingers had tugged it that way, and his hair was equally as ruffled. Yet, there was still something undefinable that made you smile at these observations, that endeared him to you.

His eyes were adorned with dark circles from sleepless nights but there was a subtly vibrancy to those eyes. The brown irises with golden flecked in the right light and the smattering of laughter lines at the corners assured you that this was a man who liked to laugh, even if you were yet to hear it in the workplace.

He wore an equally tired smile, however, it brightened when you addressed him directly and you wondered if he thought hi would ignore his presence. If that was maybe what he was used to, and that thought didn’t sit well with you.

“Oh yeah? Let me guess… you enjoy a bottle of wine on most nights?”

“Or two,” he countered, making you laugh.

Honestly, you couldn’t understand why he was considered the black sheep of the firm. From everything you had seen and heard, he wasn’t the money grabbing type and maybe that was the reason for him being a pariah, but that wasn’t a reason to brush him off or avoid him outright.

“Y’know… people will talk if they see you chatting with me.” Higuruma crossed an arm over his chest, a defensive gesture if ever you saw one.

You hummed in thought. Not that you really cared what people had to say about you. “I think I can make my own decisions on who I should and should not speak with. Are you always this cautious?”

“Some might say I have no caution at all.”

“Then why are you trying to warn me off?”

Higuruma’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, a plume of smoke emitted from between his pursed lips to momentarily obscure his face. “Didn’t realise I was under cross-examination. You’ll go far,” he mused before crushing out the remnants of his smoke and bringing out a packet of mints from his pocket.

“I don’t know about that… this career isn’t exactly what I anticipated.”

He waited, sensing there was more you wanted to share, and he had no desire to scare you away or shut you down prematurely. You couldn’t put your finger on the reason why you wanted to confide in him, perhaps you felt some kind of kindred spirit in him but that would be foolish having known him all of five minutes.

“Higuruma, do you fancy a coffee? My treat,” you offered in a rush. Embarrassed by how nervous you were to ask at your big age, and more so worried that he would refuse you flat out.

“I’d like that, but there is something I’d like much more.”

You held your breath, not knowing what he could possibly wish for more. He chuckled at your look of concern, stepping forward to offer you a mint from his pack.

“I’d really like to know your name.”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw smoking

186 notes · View notes

firein-thesky · 1 month

Text

delicate

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

pairing: vash x reader

cw: mention of guns/shooting. a touch suggestive….subtly horny.

a/n: here is a drabble. it is haunting me. vash is haunting me. you understand.

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

“will you teach me?”

vash looks up from his gun, spread out across the wooden table in bits of glinting silver, like sharp teeth pulled out of a metal mouth. the evening sun is hot and rosy and burnishes the little bar in russet.

he’s been cleaning his gun methodically for the better part of an hour.

his brows perk up, “how to shoot?” he asks.

“yeah—wanna learn.”

vash makes a face—just a sour twist of his mouth. the falling of his lashes against his cheek.

“do you have to?” he asks.

“well—if i’ll be traveling with you guys—i don’t want to be dead weight.”

vash shakes his head quickly, “there’s no such thing. besides, you’re our healer. that’s far better than a gunmen.”

eyes like stars in the blue sky catch yours. his voice is soft—earnest.

“healer’s the best thing you can be.” he vows gently, “you don’t need a gun for that.”

“vash.” you say, stern and stubborn. “c’mon. don’t give me this.”

he almost looks like he’ll plead with you, “you don’t need it.”

“what if i’m in danger?” you urge.

“i’ll protect you.” vash says firmly.

“what if you’re not around?”

the question hangs in the air. the sun sinks deeper into its red horizon. you swear you can hear the furious brag of your heart, can feel the way vash’s shoulders sink under an invisible weight.

“i don’t—“ he starts, frowning, “i don’t want to.”

“fine. then i’ll ask wolfwood.” you turn to go and he reaches out, snags your wrist.

“don’t go. and don’t ask him. i—“ his fingers, cool and metallic, gently urge you back, “i wish i didn’t have to teach you.”

the confession silences you. you slacken in his hold and look at him. he picks his head up to look back at you. he’s looking at you so sorrowful, so guilty. hangdog look on his face like he’s already done something bad. already committed a sin too great.

you don’t know what to say—any of the snippier remarks about not being naive or weak or some damsel he needs to protect die on your tongue, find a graveyard there and deaden your voice. silence stretches.

vash finally says;

“i wish there was a life for you where you didn’t have to learn how to handle a gun.”

“so you’ll teach me?” you ask.

his fingers, delicately holding your wrist, now slip away. you miss their pressure, their weight immediately.

he nods, slow, with a regretful sort of half smile, sad.

“i’ll teach you,” he says, “but you gotta promise me something.”

“what is it?” you ask.

“remember you’re a healer.” and then he tilts his head, considers you, “and don’t ever aim for the heart.”

“but what if—“

“ah, ah, ah! you have to promise or i won’t teach you! those are my rules.”

you let go of a huff of air, “fine. i promise.”

“atta girl!” vash says now, warm and with a smile. heat burns your face and you don’t think it’s the last dregs of the sun barely clinging to the sky.

he slides over on the bench he’s sitting on, welcoming you on. “now, look close—i’ll teach you how to take a gun apart and then put it back together.”

you sidle in beside him. suddenly you’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. and you can see the bit of stubble on his jaw and can smell—him. he smells like sunlight, musky and warm, a little sweet. he smells like the wind. petrichor and thistle.

“i thought you were gonna teach me how to shoot—“

“patience!” vash says, “we’ll get there. this is an important first step.”

the sun melts away into evening blue and you watch vash, with his nimble, sure fingers, put the gun back together carefully. then skillfully take it apart again. this time he urges you to do it.

and he sits, tucking in close, guiding your hands and helping you along. murmuring soft that this piece goes here. and do you remember this part? just—twist like this—gentle like. that’s it. for such dangerous items, they’re rather delicate, huh?

“yeah,” you breathe, watching the shadow of his pale lashes flutter against his cheek. “delicate.”

he laughs a little, easy and soft. almost husky. “there’s a reason gunmen call them their babies—their lovers.” he eyes you and there’s a strange twinkle in them, “c’mon. you’re close—what’s next?”

something flutters inside you—and suddenly you feel rather delicate yourself. you try to focus on the parts in front of you, attempting to make a whole. they look like scrap metal to you. your mind feels just as scattered as the pieces in front of you.

“um.” you say intelligently.

vash draws his fingers towards another piece, taps it gently and you’re rather stuck on the image. “this one—easy with it.” you move to snap it into another place and you struggle. twisting, metal on metal, grating.

he settles his hands over yours, guiding, “here—should fit, nice and snug, just like that.” his voice is low, by your ear. the piece slides right into place with a satisfying click.

you swallow.

when you’ve finished putting the gun back together, he says, “now—we’ll work on shooting when you can do that without me.”

“what?!” you demand, “that wasn’t apart of the deal!”

he shrugs and you can feel it against you, lopsided smile all boyish. “you want to learn how to shoot—i’m teaching you how to shoot. the right way.”

he pulls the gun from you, fingers brushing yours, and in a matter of seconds and the sound of clinking metal, he’s taken the gun apart and torn it into pieces again. it lays on the table in front of you, glinting cold silver now that the sky is all plum and dark.

you’d hardly seen his fingers move they were so quick, so—

“try again.” he encourages.

you eye the puzzle in front of you, your own fingers dancing towards the first piece.

“good,” vash says, smiling, leaning back a little in his seat. and then soft, “keep going.”

and you spend the night like that, certain that you’re somehow being taken apart, too. and put back together all over again.

kinda like what a healer does—kinda like what you do for him.

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #cielo writes!#cielo’s writing!#sorry i am feeling Some Type of Way about him

290 notes · View notes

cipheramnesia · 4 months

Text

I still think it's funny how Xena Warrior Princess spun off from Hercules the Kevin Sorbo Paycheck like a bad breakup, just all of the mutual friend group eventually deciding to go with Xena and she gets the girl and the horse and all the gods except Kevin Hercules' drunk deadbeat dad til his series eventually limped into cancelation years earlier than Xena but Kevin keeps like following Lucy Lawless around with this hangdog petulance like a constant reminder of how pathetic his life has become while she's out there still boss as fuck. Merciless.

298 notes · View notes

hunterrrs · 6 months

Text

his beautiful expressive face

also. tongue. big hands. that slightly hangdog expression.

#evgeni malkin #pittsburgh penguins #he loves this team so much 🥹

282 notes · View notes

fromabasementonthehilll · 10 months

Note

Hello! Can I ask for Nat x Fem reader? They are in the wilderness and Nat is the antler queen, just showering her pretty girl with love and protecting her. I NEED HER SO BAD SHES MY DAILY SEROTONIN SOURCE🥺 and maybe R tells Nat that she was and always will be her queen? Thanks xoxo

Antlers

͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: ‏‏‎Natalie had been crowned, you ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎unknowingly drifted apart, though not for ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‏‏‎‎‎‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎long.

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x reader

Warnings: ...

note: sorry if it's a bit short, I ran out of ideas by the end 🫠

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

The wilderness had concord with its choice. You watched in disbelief, the crowning of your adored Natalie. Though the secretive disappointment from everyone had been evident, they eventually rested with the fact that they hadn't been chosen, and they kneeled. They kneeled willingly, enlivened to capitulate beneath her reign, and so did you. Gazing up at her with surrender in your eyes, you took her hand into yours, kissing it softly, your vulnerable eyes never leaving hers as she watched you with adoration.

The worship Natalie was rewarded with by everyone after the crowning was sickening, you knew it had to happen, and she deserved it - but vigilance lingered in you. All of a sudden she was surrounded in a craze of devotion, her time for you had seemingly dissipated and you were left stranded, your anger was a poison to yourself, and your submission to her wasn't an alliance with the rest. Natalie caught onto your dissonance, she had bathed in gifts and admiration from others, distracting her from you, and she regretted it.

Most of your time was spent either talking to Lottie, who was one of the only people you still got along with after everything went down hill, or you would sit in the attic with your sketchbook - drawing whatever came to mind. They were dull, insubstantial days. Natalie watched you from afar, glory overwhelming her with guilt. She knew exactly how you felt - as if she could feel the everlasting ache in your bones, so as you sat in the attic as usual, coming to terms with the new situation that made you admittedly uneasy, Natalie had decided to talk to you.

"(y/n)?" Natalie's tone stayed in the air for a moment as you sat with your sketchbook.

"Hey, Nat." It felt wrong to greet her so casually, after all, she was the Antler Queen, you had to show her respect.

"Look I'm sorry, I'm not ignoring you I promise." Her eyes faltered to the ground with a hangdog look, then back up at your sorrowful face. She'd act careful around you lately, breaking the spirit of her title as queen, and you desperately wanted to know why. "What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything," Your voice diminished slightly, admitting to yourself she really had no choice, the wilderness had crowned her and you acknowledged it. "I just need you right now, Natalie." You finished.

"I know."

Her steps were silent, as was the cold night that gnawed into your skin, though you felt it waver into thin air as she sat before you. Her eyes presided you, you fell victim to her power yet again. The look that survived amongst your and her eyes was like a dagger, a numbing to the pain you endured ever since the plane had crashed. Her caressing hands fell onto your face, a smile bringing sunshine to her otherwise despondent expression, "I really missed you (y/n)," she brazened the heavy moment with her shaky words, "I love you, you know that right?"

You just stared at her, letting her voice and words fall into your bleeding heart. It was days since she had said that, weeks, even. All you wanted was to sink into her, to fill the emptiness that was eating you alive, and so you did.

You leaned in, wintry hands finding hers. The passion that stripped you of your defence was dangerously alleviating, and she had been starved of you. Yearning for the taste of you; she pushed in, backing you against the raw oak wall with her brutal lips. You felt her young aching smile amongst her eager movement, and the crucifixion of your suffering had died in tranquility along with your doubts.

There were so many unsaid words floating around you and Natalie, but they were told with her actions toward you. It was different than before, this time she had an unspoken power over you, it was a dynamic you didn't question, though.

It allowed her to keep you from harm, your distaste to most of the others was made translucent to her, and she would take it upon herself to regularly check up on you, making sure you weren't upset, that you weren't hurt by anyone - she swore to keep you safe, cradled in her protection.

You'd often overhear people mutter cruel words, that you were selfish and sucked up to Natalie, once Natalie had come up to, "Are you okay?" She asked, rubbing your back as you sat on the porch, cold and hopeless, "I'm scared Nat, I cant do this anymore, it's too hard." She softly looked at you, as if she could look right through the winter snow and into your heart. She kissed you, reminding you of her restless love for you, and you believed everything would suffice, though just a moment later you realised that you hadn't noticed Tai, spitefully spitting her words out to Van, "Who does she think she is? She isn't entitled to any of this." It was a relief that merely the two saw you and Natalie.

You should've been hated there, the way she would treat you so delicately unlike the others.

One night you were making out in the attic, she seemed hesitant but wouldn't admit it - eventually she pulled away, giving you a melancholic look. "What's wrong?" Your face began slowly imitating hers, "Nothing, I guess, I mean I don't know." Stammering her words more than you'd ever seen before. "I just don't feel like I'm supposed to, (y/n). I know that I'm meant to like this, and it felt right at first but now it's just... off." Natalie crossed her arms shyly, backing away from you. "What's off?", you wished you could comfort her more, she was obviously disturbed, but your mind went to all the wrong things, to the point where you felt like breaking down.

"I don't feel like a 'queen', at all. I cant keep up this act, It's like I'm incompetent or something, I cant live up to my title, I don't want to disappoint anyone anymore." Her lips quivered with every sentence she spoke, your eyes traced her face gently while she gave you a glance of shame.

It felt like you could see the reflection of her soul in her eyes, like her skull was open and her heart was beating out of her chest.

"You haven't disappointed anyone, Natalie. Do you know how much everyone adores you?"

"But, do you?"

Her words felt like nails on a chalkboard, moonbeams shined onto her cruelly honest expression. How could she even ask you that? Were you that irresponsible that you had forgotten about her? It didn't make any sense to you, none of it did.

"Of course I do, more than anyone in the world," Your voice breaking into a heartful whisper.

"You'll always be my queen, Natalie."

Her mind seemed to leave the gut wrenching thoughts, she just looked at you with her newly hopeful eyes, shoulders falling back down into ease, you beamed helplessly as you watched her relax into your words; she couldn't help but love your smile. "You're gorgeous, (y/n)." Everything felt right, you spent the moment in silence, the kind of silence that only felt comfortable with her.

She didn't gratify the love she had for you to anybody else, it was just for you.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #nat x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets oneshot

309 notes · View notes