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uncouth-the-fifth · 2 days

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good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

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mirai-e-jump · 16 hours

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TV Guide Dan Vol.51, April 2024 Issue ft. Sakai Taisei x Higuchi Kouhei Interview (translations below)

Publication: April 5, 2024

UNIQUE

"Could you please introduce the role the other plays in the V-Cinext films King-Ohger VS Donbrothers and King-Ohger VS Kyoryuger?"

Higuchi: Gira Husty, played by Taisei, is a character that has the right characteristics of being a so called main character, and I thought he was a completely different Red from the one in Donbrothers. The atmosphere Gira created was one you couldn't find in Donbrothers.

Sakai: Gira and Higuchi-kun's role of Momoi Tarou are the exact opposite in terms of character design. Tarou is an absolute ruler who brings everyone together, which is different from King-Ohger, where everyone has their own individuality but are still able to keep up with each other. In a way, I also feel "jealous."

Higuchi: Still, I think all Super Sentai members feel "jealous." The Producers and Scriptwriters give other Sentai "colors" we don't have, so it's only natural for us to think, "I like those colors."

Sakai: That's why the history of Super Sentai continues, and the fans enjoy it every year. I definitely wanted a "color" I don't have. That's why I'm happy to have the opportunity to be involved with other Super Sentai members like this!

"What were your impressions of each other before you met? Did your impressions change after meeting?"

Sakai: At first, I thought he was a cool guy, but on set, all the two of us would do was talk!

Higuchi: I felt the same way, and thought Taisei was a quiet guy (laughs). Actually, that wasn't the case at all, as I was surprised and happy to find that we were compatible when we talked in the dressing room. During this shoot, even though I had my own dressing room, I would go to Taisei's dressing room instead.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was cool and manly, and my impression of his manliness is probably the same as it was before we met. We're similar in that we both get carried away.

"How would you describe your relationship?"

Higuchi: This is just my opinion, but in the context of our relationship in Super Sentai, I'm his senior Red, but in terms of our age, I'm his junior. In my case, regardless of age, as long as there's mutual respect, I want our relationship to be that we're like friends. That's why I unconsciously treated Taisei like he was already my friend. I'm sorry!

Sakai: It was also easier to say things like, "Let's go out to eat." I'm the same as Kouhei, I think it's easier that way. It makes me happier if you come to me without hesitation, rather than be cautious because I'm older than you, I think it makes it easier to talk about the performance and acting.

"Have you seen each other's shows, King-Ohger and Donbrothers? Please tell us about any episodes that were most memorable for you."

Higuchi: I remember very well when the first episode of King-Ohger aired while we were performing at Theatre G-Rosso. We saw it on the TV backstage at G-Rosso, and everyone was envious of it, saying, "It's really cool!" (laughs). I still love the first episode.

Sakai: For me it has to be the final episode, I thought it was really great that it ended with the very memorable, "We've formed a bond." I thought it was nice that it started and ended with those words. It's also easy to use at things like events! It's hard to find a place to say, "I'm going to rule the world!" (laughs). I like the fact that the first episode established the bond, and while the ending came, it was also a beginning.

"Were there any challenging or fun parts during filming?"

Higuchi: Speaking of challenges, the filming location was at the King-Ohger's studio, and it was my first time using a green screen that covered all sides. So, on my first day in the studio, I was surprised and thought to myself, "How do we do this?!" Once you get a feel for it though, you get used to it.

Sakai: Donbrothers was shot entirely on location. On the other hand, we had the pleasure of filming on a set. As for difficult scenes, Kouhei seemed to have a hard time in the scene where Gira choked on some mochi. It's because he had to put his hand firmly in my mouth (laughs).

Higuchi: It was harder for Taisei, wasn't it?! Wouldn't it have been easier to simply put it in? If it were the other way around, I think I would've felt awkward afterwards (laughs).

"What did you feel after watching each other's performance?"

Higuchi: I thought Taisei always took his acting seriously. Also, his eyes are incredibly pretty and distinct. I think he's got alot of strong points.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was a stoic person in his performance. He spent alot of time thinking on his own, doing things like sorting out his emotions abit before the cameras started rolling. Even after he was given the OK, he studied things from the side the moment after and thought, "I could've done this better," so I respect that stoicism.

"Please tell us some of the highlights this time."

Sakai: They're both Super Sentai with tons of personality that rival each other for first and second place of this generation, so I think it'll be a highlight to see how they'll unite and how the story will progress. Also, this time, both Reds are characters that laugh out loud. Within the battle scene is a scene where the two of us are laughing loudly, and it was pretty difficult to film, so I want you to see it. It was a long scene, about 30 seconds, and we were laughing the whole time (laughs).

Higuchi: It's as if two Super Sentai were combined to form a new Sentai, and I think this is a movie where each member has their own highlights. Also, the King-Ohger's costumes are really cool, so it's worth seeing. Among us, Jiro, the Noto, and Inuzuka's costumes might be as good as the Kings. The other four are in ordinary clothing (laughs).

"You both have experience playing soccer, and you kicked a ball around during the photoshoot, so what are your thoughts on each other's skills?"

Sakai: I think this is probably common in soccer clubs, but I can tell just from the ball rolling alittle bit if someone is "good."

Higuchi: I get that! The moment someone kicks a ball and stops it with their foot, an experienced player can tell that, "This guy's good." However, I'm sure this is a feeling that baseball and basketball teams also have.

"Did you talk about soccer during filming?"

Higuchi: If I'm remembering right, after filming finished for Donbrothers and King-Ohger was about to start, Taisei said to me, "You used to play soccer, didn't you? Let's play futsal!"

Sakai: Right, I just thought since you had experience playing soccer. Futsal is fun, so I'd love to do it again!

"This issue also features Iuchi Haruhi-kun and Hayama Yuki-kun from the currently airing Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger. As their seniors in the Super Sentai series, please give them a message."

Higuchi: The quality of Super Sentai is really different each generation, but I think the one thing they all have in common is that they're "very challenging." That's why, when it comes to acting, I can never say, "It's better like this." The only thing I can think of to say is, "Please have fun in Oizumigakuen, where the filming studio is located." I enjoyed it tremendously (laughs).

Sakai: Right! Depending on whether or not you have fun in Oizumigakuen and at the filming studio, the story could change. The more favorite places and stores you have, the better, and you can go out to eat with ease. As Kouhei said, it's challenging to film every day, so I think it's good to find a place you can "rely on." It'd be nice if after enjoying Oizumigakuen, you go to a different site for another job and end up thinking, "I want to come back here someday."

"And finally, when speaking of Donbrothers, oden may come to mind, so please tell us what both of your favorite ingredients are."

Higuchi: Chikuwa!

Sakai: I love eggs, and I also love daikon radishes!

Higuchi: In the end, which one's the very best?! (laughs).

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sleepychaika · 2 years

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had a small discussion about music w/ a classmate. asked him to send me some of his favourite (like, absolutely beloved) artists or songs since i love listening to people rant abt their favourite things

he sent me viva la vida by coldplay. it's. Unbelievably Hard to listen to it with a straight face as i keep remembering the meme remix. the one with pillars of salt upon pillars of salt upon pillars of salt

#he keeps calling it 'so atmospheric for this time of the day' and i'm just sitting over here trying not to snort #ive no idea what level of normieness he is on so i cant just share the meme w him right off the bat #plus it would ruin the song for the poor lad #now the old king is dead LOOL...#.txt

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fairy-angel222 · 2 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

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vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

TikTok trends | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @paytonthereader

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I made a part 2!

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Just like Matt worked with YouTube making videos with his brothers, Y/N worked with TikTok. She created her account on the app in 2019, and from 2020, she lost her camera shyness slowly and started posting her own videos, creating content for her favorite niche: makeup and skincare.

When Matt moved to Los Angeles, the two met in an unexpected and cliché encounter in line at a bakery on a rainy morning. Their friendship grew as quickly as it began, and feelings were gradually cultivated. With both of them working on the Internet and being public figures, it was easy to understand each other and fit in their crazy schedules.

It didn't take much. The two quickly found themselves in a tangle of reciprocal feelings. Matt felt proud that he was brave enough to make the first move, and soon, the two were in a beautiful relationship that blossomed very quickly and lightly.

Because they both work with social networks, they decided not to keep their love a secret, and what surprised them most was how the fans supported them together, it was rare that they encountered comments from haters.

With that, in all of the Sturniolo Triplets' YouTube videos and Y/N's TikToks, there were thousands of people begging them to make more content together, being called "the power couple" by both fandoms.

That's why Y/N always found a way to convince Matt to do some couple trends on TikTok with her, and despite pretending he didn't like it, she knew how much he adored making mini videos with her, showing to the world how much he loved her.

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Y/N fitted her phone on the phone holder attached to the right side of the front windowscreen of Matt's car - which was there precisely because she loved recording herself doing makeup there, being the passenger princess she was -, lowering the brightness of the screen so that the boy couldn't see the TikTok camera open.

She adjusted the position of the device so that it covered the two front seats, pressing the red button to start recording, smiling slightly to the camera before looking away.

Matt didn't notice her movements, too focused on the sight in front of him, driving slowly through the McDonald's drive thru line, waiting for their turn. His left hand held the steering wheel, while his right hand rested on Y/N's thigh, caressing her covered skin gently.

Y/N's calm playlist played softly through the speakers, creating a comfortable atmosphere for both of them.

The girl knew that she was going to make the order that day, knowing that Matt was feeling too anxious to talk to a stranger, so her plan would work.

"Do you already know what you will want, baby?" The girl asked. Her tone was low as she turned her upper body to the left, focusing her eyes on the brunette.

"Just some nuggets, baby. And Coke, please." He asked, looking at her quickly before returning his eyes to the cars in front of them, receiving a nod from the girl.

It didn't take long and soon it was their turn. Matt rolled down the window on the driver's side door, smiling kindly at the attendant before turning to his girlfriend, waiting for her to start the order.

Y/N leaned to her left, getting closer to Matt so the attendant could hear her clearly.

"Hi, good evening! Can I have a cheeseburger with fries and a Diet Coke, please?" She spoke her order, waiting for the attendant to select it before starting Matt's. "And my husband will just have a big portion of nuggets and a Coke, please."

Y/N tried to capture Matt's reaction without letting on that she was expecting something, watching him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye, pressing her lips into a thin line when she saw him smile big, lowering his face to hide the red color that took over his cheeks.

His hand - which was still on the girl's thigh - squeezed the flesh lightly, and Y/N could swear his fingers were shaking.

After receiving confirmation from the attendant and paying for them, Matt rolled up the window and gently accelerated to get back in line.

When the car in front stopped again, he finally turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face as his eyes glistened with tears.

"I'm your husband?" He asked, his voice coming out weak from the emotions he felt, his cheeks burning with redness while he felt his heart accelerating.

"Not yet, but one day you will be." Y/N said in a low voice, smiling equally big. She brought her left hand to Matt's right, caressing the soft skin, holding herself back from pulling him into a hug and peppering him with kisses.

"I love you so much. So, so much." He muttered, moving closer and sealing his lips over Y/N's, closing his eyes and letting a happy sigh scape through his nose, a smile still on his mouth.

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Y/N placed her phone on the kitchen counter next to the stove so that the front camera was facing her and taking in as much information from the room as possible.

The girl was cutting some vegetables while preparing lunch for herself and the boys, wiping her hands on the dishrag before clicking on the screen, starting the recording.

"Baby!" She called from where she was, smiling quickly to the camera before lifting her chin slightly so that her voice echoed better. "Come here, I need a favor."

The sound of her and Matt's shared bedroom door opening sounded before light footsteps approached. Soon, the boy's image appeared behind Y/N as he walked closer to her.

"Hi honey. What do you need?" He spoke back, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist and resting his chin on Y/N's right shoulder, sealing the area with his lips softly before noticing the phone recording them. "What are you doing?" Matt asked, his brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the image of the two hugging each other that stared back at him.

"I'm just recording a recipe." She lied quickly, lightly biting her bottom lip to hold back her laughter. She really didn't know how to lie to him. "Baby, can you go to the market for me? I need tomatoes to make sauce." Y/N asked, releasing the knife she was holding in her right hand and bringing it to Matt's head still on her shoulder, stroking his hair lightly, receiving a happy sigh in response.

The boy let out a sound of agreement, nodding his head before lifting it up, kissing Y/N's shoulder and her cheek, squeezing her waist one last time before taking some steps back.

"That's it, baby?" He asked as he felt his pants pocket with his right hand, checking if he had his wallet and car keys.

Y/N agreed, picking up the knife again and going back to cutting the vegetables.

"Alright, if you remember anything else, just text me. I love you, bye." Matt asked, turning around and starting to walk towards the stairs.

"Okay, thanks!" Y/N thanked him, smiling small when she heard Matt's footsteps stop abruptly. She looked up at her phone slightly, seeing her boyfriend turn around with a confused expression.

"I love you, bye." He repeated, watching her closely.

"Bye, honey. Drive safe." She added, trying to hide her smile as she turned her attention back to the vegetables.

Matt approached her again, positioning himself behind her body and tilting his head to the side so he could see her profile, his blue eyes running over her features.

"I love you." He repeated it a third time, this time slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.

"Okay." Y/N persisted, keeping her eyes on the vegetables, taking deep breaths to keep from laughing.

"Did I do something?" Matt asked, his right hand lightly grabbing Y/N's right arm and making her release the knife, turning her body so that she was facing him. "I'm sorry." He asked, his eyes scanning his girlfriend's face as a weight took over his gaze; he felt guilty despite not knowing what he had done.

"What? No, you didn't do anything." The girl shook her head, intertwining their fingers and looking at him in false confusion.

"But... that's not how it works, baby. I say, "I love you", and you have to say "I love you" back." Matt insisted, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening. "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, she couldn't keep pretending when seeing the confusion in her boyfriend's eyes, her heart warmed with the way he was trying to apologize and fix something he didn't do and that, in fact, didn't even exist. Matt remained watching her, feeling even more lost than before.

"I'm sorry, It's just a prank, baby. It's for a TikTok." The girl explained, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.

Matt rolled his eyes, sighing in relief before a smile took over his face.

"You're still going to give me a heart attack." He muttered, shaking his head. "Let's do it again then. I love you, bye." Matt repeated, still holding his girlfriend, who laughed lightly at his reactions.

"I love you more, my love." She finally responded, reaching forward and quickly sealing their lips. "Now go buy my tomatoes."

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Y/N held her phone with her right hand, the screen showing the TikTok camera open, with the audio already selected, just waiting to be started.

She was standing in front of the closet doors in her shared room with Matt. The lights were low, forming a comfortable atmosphere.

Her left hand held her favorite red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics, with the lid off and the contents showing.

Her right thumb clicked the red button to start recording, the audio echoing through the four walls.

"Stay with me"

She applied one more layer of lipstick to her bottom lip, smudging it a little on purpose.

A masculine hand - Matt's - appeared in the camera view, cupping Y/N's chin firmly and wiping away the smudged lipstick with his thumb gently, pulling her face up so she was looking at him.

"I don't want you to leave..."

Y/N turned her phone slightly so the camera caught the two of them, Matt appearing at her side with his face and neck smeared with lipstick marks.

His face was facing hers, his blue eyes traveling from her eyes to her painted lips, a smirk appearing on his cheeks.

Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling her face take on a red color due to the intensity of his gaze, smiling shyly.

Matt pulling her face for a kiss was the last image captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.

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"Baby?" Y/N called out loud, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone, which had the TikTok camera open, already recording herself.

She was sitting on the couch in the living room, the television on in the background as her favorite series played.

"Yes, baby?" Matt responded from their bedroom, leaving the room seconds later and approaching the living room, stopping near the couch as he looked at his girlfriend, waiting.

"Do we have orange?" She asked, turning her face towards him, smiling small when she saw a confused expression appear in his eyes.

"The fruit? Hm, I guess so. We bought it last time we went to the market." Matt replied, resting his hand on the back of the couch, leaning his hips on the armrest.

"I really feel like eating an orange right now." Y/N continued, closely watching her boyfriend's reaction.

"Oh, I'll get you one, hold on." Matt responded quickly, turning around and walking over to the fridge, opening the door and reaching for the fruit from the fruit and vegetable drawer.

Y/N looked at her phone camera wide-eyed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled big, a reddish hue taking over her cheeks.

Just under two minutes later, Matt returned with a small bowl in hand, and Y/N quickly recognized it as her favorite bowl that had bee designs on it.

"Here, my love." He handed her the ceramic. Y/N took it and looked inside, seeing her orange not only peeled but cut so that she could eat it slowly and without getting her hands dirty.

Y/N pouted as her eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you." Her voice was broken due to the amount of love she felt at that moment, looking up at her boyfriend.

"What is it?" Matt asked worriedly, sitting down next to her and pulling her close, laying her head on his right shoulder as he brought his head closer to hers, sealing his lips on her hair and exhaling lightly, smelling the soft smell of shampoo. "Why are you crying, baby?"

"I just love you so much."

"I love you more, silly."

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu

(If you want to be added to the taglist, comment here, please)

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lev1hei1chou · 22 days

Text

My Husband

Gojo x reader, Nanami x reader (individual) Genre: Fluff Words: 676 Synopsis: You refer to them as your husband, when you're dating Masterlist

The sun hung low in the sky as you strolled through the city with Gojo Satoru by your side. The two of you were enjoying a rare day off, relishing in each other's company. As you wandered through a crowded street, a familiar face caught your eye. It was a friend from years ago, someone you hadn't seen in ages.

"Hey! Long time no see!" your friend exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

You exchanged pleasantries, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, your friend's gaze shifted to Gojo, who had been standing patiently beside you.

"Oh, and who's this handsome fella?" your friend asked with a playful grin.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a sudden urge to embellish the situation. "Oh, this is Satoru Gojo. He's my husband."

Your friend's eyes widened in surprise, "Husband? Wow, congratulations! When did you guys get married?"

Gojo, caught off guard by your statement, raised an eyebrow. You shot him a quick apologetic look, realizing you may have jumped the gun.

"We're not married yet, actually," Gojo clarified, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But she's just so in love with me that she couldn't wait to claim me as her husband."

You playfully nudged him, feigning annoyance. "Oh, please. Don't let him fool you. We're just dating."

Your friend laughed, sharing a knowing look with Gojo. "Well, you two seem happy. It's great to see you again! I won't keep you, but let's catch up properly sometime."

As your friend walked away, Gojo turned to you with a smirk. "Husband, huh? I guess you're not the only one who can play along."

You rolled your eyes, "I panicked! It just slipped out. Besides, it's not like it's never going to happen, right?"

Gojo leaned in, planting a teasing kiss on your cheek. "Oh, it'll happen. Just know that when it does, I'll be the one saying 'I told you so.'" You sighed, shaking your head, but couldn't help but smile at his words.

You sat comfortably on the couch in your apartment, phone pressed to your ear as you chatted with your friend. Nanami, your boyfriend, was in the kitchen, silently preparing some tea. The conversation flowed casually until your friend asked about your day.

"Oh, you know, just spending time with my husband," you said casually, not giving it a second thought.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. You turned to find Nanami staring at you, tea kettle in hand, with a raised eyebrow. His expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Husband?" Nanami mouthed, clearly overhearing your conversation.

You shot him an apologetic look, realizing the slip-up. Trying to ignore the situation, you turned away from him and continued talking to your friend, "Yeah, he's just in the kitchen making tea right now. Oh, speaking of which, he's giving me a look because I accidentally called him my husband. Silly me."

Nanami's gaze intensified as he observed your attempts to backtrack. He set the kettle down, his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement from him.

"Accidentally?" he quirked an eyebrow, his tone dry and playful.

You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, knowing you were caught. "Well, I mean, you do act like a husband sometimes, don't you?"

Nanami approached, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded, trying to play it off cool. "Yeah, you know, looking out for me, making tea – all the husband-like things."

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "If I'm going to be your husband, maybe we should make it official."

Your cheeks flushed at his suggestion, realizing that he wasn't upset. Instead, Nanami seemed to be enjoying the banter. You shot him a playful glare, "You're not getting off that easy, mister."

Nanami chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe one day, I'll make an honest woman out of you." You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile on your face.

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satoruxx · 4 months

Text

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #gojo satoru headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x you

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 1 month

Text

DP X DC PROMPT #26

(I'm feeling angsty today.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Going Supernova

The GIW have discovered his identity, and they don't waste time on using this knowledge to their advantage. They spent the last six months creating a weapon that not only hurts ghosts but absolutely obliterates them down to their very cores. After testing it for so long on minor ghosts and then discovering the local ghostly menace's secret, they have the bright idea to make an example out of Danny.

They ambush him as he's fighting the invading ghost of the day. Their first shot misses and hits the ghost they're fighting. As soon as the shot lands, the ghost freezes in place with a look of dread and horror.

They look up at Danny with tears in their eyes and has only a few precious seconds to say, "Run," before their skin cracks and they shatter, the miniscule shards evaporating into nothingness.

Danny is petrified and grief-stricken over what he just witnessed that he doesn't have the time to even twitch before the GIW lock their sights back onto him and shoot him in the back.

Agony consumes him. His chest burns, and his ribs rattle with the effort it takes for him to breathe through the pain. The civilians who were still on the scene gasped in horror as they watched their local hero's chest start to crack and glow from within.

What the GIW didn't know was that Danny had just recently elevated to Ancient status due to helping Clockwork with the timestream. That and with his status as a halfa, what they did will end in nothing but disaster. (1)

Danny spots his parents, sister, and friends in the crowd. His parents watched in awe and excitement while his Jazz, Sam, and Tucker looked at him with horror-stricken disbelief. Knowing what's to come and not having enough time to explain, he gives them a wobbly smile.

"I'm so sorry."

He whips around and rockets straight up into the sky. He breaks through the atmosphere in a matter of seconds and continues to fly at breakneck speed away from the little green-blue planet he calls home. He has to get away. He can't destabilize so close to them. He has to go even further.

His form is steadily breaking off into pieces as his human and ghost half fight and fail to keep him together. He can feel his human half dying and his ghost half barely holding on by a thread. He can't stop, though. If he stops here, the Earth will be destroyed from the backlash.

He had no worry for himself. After all, stars die all the time. That doesn't mean that's the end for them. They just take on a new form or even help breathe new planets and galaxies into life.

'A star's death is not the end!' He comforts himself.

He only makes it a few light-years further before his energy fades out to nothing, and he slows to a halt. It's only then that Danny starts to panic alone in the vacuum of space. The furthest he's even been from home and the comfort of his friends and family.

"No. No, no, no, no." He repeats over and over. "Not far enough. Not far enough! I'm still too close!!" (2)

His stuttering heart rabbits inside his chest along with his crumbling core. He hugs himself tight with the false hope that maybe that would stop himself from falling apart. He cries for his family, his friends, his planet. His life and lives he's about to take through no fault of his own.

Because for a star to give life, they must first destroy. (3)

"I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry! Please!"

He sobs into his hands as the light of his core pulses one final time.

"Please." He whispers brokenly.

His core shatters, and he screams for the entire cosmos to hear. His form expands with immeasurable force and shakes the very foundations of creation. His desperate attempt to spare the Earth from his self-destruction was in vain as the waves of his shattered core ravaged the solar system and destroyed everything within its path.

The countless people and other creatures on Earth didn't even have time to blink before they were completely eradicated. Quick and painless but nonetheless gone.

It took centuries for everything to settle again.

It wasn't until countless millennium passed that the solar system began to take shape again. However, everything was reshaped and put back together as though with a child's memory of what it used to be from so long ago. Some things were bound to be different, like how Mars gained its own population of intelligent humanoid creatures. How Earth's own population started to develop extraordinary abilities and magic was able to be used more freely outside of supernatural species.

Soon, there were heroes popping up all over the universe of all shapes, sizes, and species. Some people were even reborn. They started remembering a life that, as far as they knew, never actually existed. How could it? None of the people they were before showed up in any records. There were records, of course. They just, unfortunately, no longer existed.

No one knew why, either. At least not until a magic user stumbled upon a tome belonging to what they knew as the Underworld. It told the story of a young boy who died too young and was destroyed from what he became afterward. How his destruction also destroyed the world despite the boy's efforts to save it.

This story was shared with the masses of people experiencing these memories of other lives, including the heroes who took up the mantle of keeping the Earth and other corners of the galaxy safe. They mourned the loss of a life so young, so bright and full of potential. They hoped that wherever the child ended up, that they were at peace.

Little did they know, the child was part of the universe itself, his very being woven into the fabric that makes up the night sky and everything that lays beyond. They can't see or hear him, but that precious child--the Ancient of Space--laid curled around the Milky Way itself with Earth cradled gently in his trembling hands.

✦

(1) Because of his status as the new Ancient of Space and the fact that he is half human/alive is the reason his destabilization took longer than the ghost he was previously fighting. An Ancient has immense power of the aspect of reality they control, and his human half was desperately trying to keep him alive. He can't live without his ghost half, though. It was also the power of his Ancient status that made his destabilization so explosive and damaging. However, him being a halfa is also what saved his existence in the end and allows him to still continue to be the Ancient of Space, as Space itself is always in a state of dying and rebirth. It just took several thousands of years to pull himself back into a semblance of what he previously was, but obviously irrevocably changed.

(2) According to scientists a supernova would have to be within 30-50 light-years to trigger a mass extinction on Earth. To be actually completely safe from one, however, it'd have to be 160 or more light-years away. Danny didn't even make it to 20 light-years before his core self-destructed, which is why he was panicking.

(3) As I'm sure most of you know, supernovae are essential to creating life, but that life is preceded by the death of said star.

(*) I haven't really thought of who would be reborn into which character. I originally thought of Jack Fenton being reborn as Bruce Wayne, but Bruce only disguises himself as a himbo while Jack actually is one. The only reason I thought it would work out it because 1) Jack's paranoia about ghosts and translating into Bruce's own paranoia 2) him regaining his past memories would explain his propensity to collect black-haired, blue eyed children because of his loss of Danny and 3) him and his relationship with Jason after he came back as Red Hood.

Other than that, I can't think of who any of the other characters might be. You can decide!

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny goes supernova #the giw fuck up #but when don't they #ancient of space danny #danny's destruction destroys the universe and everyone in it #time passes and he eventually regains enough of a form and consciousness to put it back together #but not a 1:1 recreation #several millennium of existence is bound to make the memory foggy #and thus the DCU is born!#some but not all characters have memories of their past lives before the universe was destroyed #they're yours to decide #danny did self destruct but he is NOT permanently gone #space has a natural cycle of death and rebirth #danny is still the ancient of space #the people sympathize and mourn what happened to danny #they think he's gone but he's not #your decision if they do discover he's still around tho!#danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #writing prompt #prompt #sleepy writes stuff

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arachine · 7 months

Note

*slides a big fat twenty your way* uh how about a part two of that non traditional family dynamics with gojo

dinner and a disaster . . .

synopsis :: when your oldest daughter is at that age where boys are starting to become the focal point of her universe, you bring out the big guns — which in this case, unfortunately happens to be her father (who is not exactly the best when it comes to disciplining his little girls).

or, in other words, you and gojo play good cop bad cop.

genre :: fluff

contents :: co-parent!gojo, mentions of alcohol, heavy dialogue, time skip (the girls are 14 and 12 respectively), gojo is in distress !!!!

note :: link to part 1 + link to part 3

it's 10 pm when you text gojo about the latest happenings going on in your household.

it's also 10:01 pm when you answer his incoming face time call.

he's wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, laying down on his bed with a pillow under his chin and a hand propped up to support his head—he's comfortable, to say the least, and 100% tuned in to hear about whatever it is that you just texted him.

"is this what you've been doing all day?" you query with a laugh. there's a brief look of confusion etched onto his face before he picks up on what you were implying. rolling his eyes, he scoffs.

"it was my day off," he pouts, "can't a man relax in his fuzzy blanket?"

you squint teasingly at the screen, then nod slowly before mouthing an 'uh-huh'.

"i didn't call you to get berated about my choice of blanket!"

"okay, okay! i'm sorry," you grab a napkin from your nightstand, waving it like a white flag of surrender. "such a baby..."

"says the one who could never take...you know what, i won't finish that."

"smart man," you smile. "i want to be mad at you sometimes but it's almost kinda impressive how easily you can change the atmosphere...i mean, wow! it's record-breaking, truly."

"ha...ha. alright. i overstepped my bounds, i get it. can we just...can we just get back to our daughter? i'm starting to regret calling you on my day off—which, by the way, was going so great."

"great, love that we're on the same page," you give him a thumbs up through the screen. before you can get into the nitty-gritty of the situation, you take a brief pause to prepare yourself for the dramatics about to ensue—because if you know anything about gojo satoru, you know he's definitely one for the dramatics.

"when i tell you this...i want you to stay calm, keep a level head, and most importantly, i want you not to scream," you say, opening your mouth again to emphasize the last part, "and it's important that you especially won't scream, okay?"

gojo mulls it over before committing, "i don't know...it depends on what you're gonna tell m-"

"just—just promise, gojo," you interrupt, clearly agitated.

"alright, i promise."

"okay, so there's a boy..."

you're mid-sentence when gojo's eye starts to twitch.

"and she's expressed to me that she wants to go on a date with him." when you finish, you're half expecting him to yell, and half expecting him to end the call. but he doesn't.

in fact, he's so still, you're almost convinced he's frozen, but then he begins to smile. slow at first, and then all at once. it's creepy, you think, something straight out of a horror film.

"i know this was a lot of information to process, are you...okay?"

"pfttt, what? of course, why wouldn't i be?"

"well, you look scary. maybe i shouldn't have told yo-"

"SHE WANTS TO WHAT?"

and there it is. gojo satoru, king of dramatics.

"my little girl, my baby, my princess. she's only 10!-"

"she's 14."

"same thing, how could you let this happen?!"

"what happened to not yelling?! you promised!"

"oh be serious, i made a vow to you 14 years ago and look where we are now," he whisper-yells, trying (and failing) to contain his voice.

"dammit, you're right...well, at least we're on the same page! we both don't want this date to happen." when you take another glance at the screen, gojo's no longer laying down on his bed, but up and pacing around his room like a mad man.

you watch him for awhile, and when he doesn't seem to be coming back any time you soon, you call his name, "satoru."

"what?!" he turns to the phone. glaring at him, you wait for him to check his tone. "sorry, what?"

"i was thinking tomorrow you could come over for dinner? it'd give us a chance to talk to her about it...so that it's not just me telling her no."

"so, what i'm hearing is that you want her to hate me too?"

"no, i'm saying i want us to be a team. so, can you come over tomorrow? can you do that?" you ask, raising a brow.

"yeah, i'll be there."

at the same time the oven alarm goes off, gojo arrives. you can see his car pull into the drive way from where you are in the kitchen, and you mentally curse yourself for not getting ready sooner.

"fuck, uh okay," you throw your oven mitts, "hon, can you get the door for your dad? i need to go upstairs and get changed."

the youngest gets up from her place on the couch, "sure, wait...dad's staying for dinner? what's the occasion?"

you're halfway up the stairs before you stop, "enough questions, please. just open the door, thank youuuu."

ambling from the living room to the foyer, she opens the front door. gojo smiles, and immediately lifts her up into a bone-crushing hug that only a dad could give.

"hey bug, missed you," he squeezes her, much to her behest.

"ugh, dadddd, put me down," she drawls, pawing at his chest. gojo frowns and puts her down, putting a hand over his heart as if he were shot.

"you used to love that, you know."

"yeah, when i was like five."

"are you not?" he teases, but she's not amused. he nudges her arm annoyingly until she begins to smile. "there we go, punk. now can i have a real hug? you're hurting my feelings."

like a true pre-teen, she rolls her eyes and reluctantly trudges over to him, then opens her arms up for a hug. at this stage, you've noticed that hugs are okay, but only when it's on their own terms—and you especially can't initiate them when their friends are around (you learned that the hard way).

when they pull away, gojo takes his shoes off and wanders through the house. "where's the other brat at?"

"upstairs."

gojo nods, "uh-huh...where's your mom at?"

"right here." gojo hears you before he sees you, and then he lifts his head up to see you at the top of the stairs standing behind the banister. before you make your way downstairs, you waltz over to your daughter's room and knock on the door.

"hey, dinner's ready. come on downstairs. somebody's here to see you." as you begin turning around, the door flies open and out comes your moody teenage daughter.

"who is it?" she queries, following behind you like a duckling.

from where he stands at the bottom of the staircase, gojo raises a hand and waves.

"hey, scrub."

"dad? what are you doing here?" your oldest questions, but still goes in for a hug.

"your mom invited me over for dinner, that cool with you?"

she nods, then turns to her sister. they exchange a knowing look that, if translated, would be: something's definitely up. they wait for you and gojo to head to the kitchen before having a quick debrief.

"you definitely did something," the youngest side eyes.

"wha-why would you think i did something? you're the one failing a class," she rebuttals.

"ok well...this isn't about me! they only get together when one of us does something. don't you see? they're teaming up...this is an intervention."

the oldest pinches the space between her brows, "i can see why you're failing english now, because the way you just jumped to conclusions like that is actually insane."

dinner goes by without a hitch. for majority of it, you spend the time talking about work, school (which seems like a sensitive subject because the youngest wouldn't look either of you in the eye), and the plot of this hbo show with adult kids who're trying to take over their father's company.

gojo brings it up, of course, and jokingly says that the show was written with him in mind. he asks the girls if they'll fight over who'll inherit the company when he dies, and it turns into a i'm the better daughter debate.

when it gets a little too rowdy, you have to remind them that this is all hypothetical and that their father is a menace who likes to cause chaos whenever possible. gojo pouts and says you're no fun, but quickly fixes his face when he sees your pointed glare.

"come help me with the dishes," you say, and then disappear into the kitchen.

the two of you fall back into old habits. you wash the dishes, he dries and sets them on the rack. it feels like it did in the beginning, only this time, he'll be leaving when the two of you set out to do what you originally intended.

"dinner was nice," he says after about 10 minutes of comfortable silence. he doesn't look up, doesn't even make a joke about your cooking (which, you were totally expecting him to do). instead, he just continues drying the plate you handed to him.

"you know, you're welcomed to come again. you don't always have to be away in that apartment all by yourself," you start, choosing your words carefully, gently. "the girls like eating with their dad."

"i like eating with them too. i guess i'll start coming by more often then."

you almost miss it but there's a smile on his face, and it's genuine. instead of pointing it out, you savor the moment.

your reasoning for his coming here was to talk to your daughter, but it was also to get him out of the apartment. see, you were sneaky like him too, and what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. to you, this was just hitting two birds with one stone.

when you finish up, the two of you discuss the plan over for what seems like the 100th time.

"so, we're gonna go in there and be cool about it, okay? we won't hound her. we're just gonna tell her like it is, and then let her down gently. got it?"

"got it."

"after you," gojo extends his arm.

"wha-ugh, fine."

as you lead the way, gojo has to keep a hand on your back to keep you from turning back around. so far, you've attempted to retreat five times—you're two feet away from the kitchen entrance.

"will you just go?" there's irritation laced in his tone.

"okay, just stop pushing me."

"no promises, keep walking."

you sigh, but heed his request. with a hand still on your back, he guides you all the way to the living room. the girls are watching tv but quickly avert their focus when they notice you standing next to the couch with a freakish smile plastered on your face. gojo whispers in your ear to be cool and you immediately gather your wits.

"mom...your face...dad what's wrong with her face she's scaring me," the youngest pauses the tv.

"sweetie, will you go upstairs for a minute? your dad and i have to talk to your sister."

seeming to be catching on, she gets up from the couch and says a 'told you' to her sister before running upstairs. you and gojo share a look.

"what's up?" she asks, still weirded out.

"you see, well...we've been talking and..." you start, "your father has something he wants to tell you!"

gojo snaps his head towards you, gasping in the same motion. "hey, what the hell happened to being cool?"

"no promises, remember?"

"oh, you litt-"

"dad."

"sorry, uh, shit. i wasn't prepared for this. this wasn't the plan," he begins, "so, i heard there's a boy...and...you're at that age where boys are cute..."

she looks at the two of you in abhor and groans. gojo pauses briefly, but you encourage him to continue.

"and i've come to understand that you're interested in one and want to go on a date?"

"yeah."

"oh...okay well, i—we just don't think that's a good idea. you're 14, in school, and honey, you're so young...you have your whole life to be interested in boys."

"wait, what do you mean 'we'?"

"your mom and i talked about it and-"

"mom said she was fine with it."

gojo smiles in shock and then blinks, once, twice, three times.

"we'll be back," he announces, pulling you by the arm to the kitchen.

when you get to the kitchen, he releases your arm and pinches the skin between his brows. it takes all of about five seconds before he erupts.

"'we're a team, satoru', 'we're in this together', bullshit! you wanted me to be the bad cop, didn't you?"

"not initial-"

"didn't you!"

"okay, sorry! i may have...gave in when she asked, but i figured you'd be able to tell her no!"

"why would you think that!? she's my little girl!"

"she's my little girl too!"

gojo walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a glass. "i can't right now, i need a drink. what do you have?"

opening another cabinet, you pull out a bottle of pink whitney. gojo sucks his teeth. it was such a girl drink, but it was all you had so beggars couldn't be choosers. shrugging, he raises his glass for you to pour the drink into.

grabbing another glass, you sit down and join him.

"we've been had, huh?"

"how is that?"

"because we both can't say no to her."

gojo raises his glass to his lips and swallows it all down in a few gulps.

your daughter goes on a date the following week, and gojo starts looking into trackers.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #:: — LEXI WRITES !

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just-jordie-things · 1 month

Note

K so like its night time and y/n is cuddling with megumi and yuji barges in and sees them both and is like “You’re cuddling with megumi are you guys dating?! :O” then the next day everyone is just asking you “aRe YoU rEaLlY dAtInG mEgUmI???” By the way i love your posts❤️

megumi is just so perfect for secret dating bc he would beg you to keep your relationship a secret, like, right off the bat. like before you're even official- probably before he's even confessed.

omg.

megumi coming to you in a panic and it worries you bc you don't often see him stressed and the boy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and you're being so sweet to him meanwhile he's grabbing you by the hands and making you swear to not speak a word of this to yuji or nobara- and definitely not gojo. poor confused you are like "ok sure but what are you talking about??" oops megumi forgot about the part where he's supposed to tell you how much he likes you and thinks that you should give him a chance at making you happy- but we all know that goes well because you're literally in love with him already adlhgkajflkgh

and for a while you're pretty good at sneaking around, because it's sort of fun actually. every secret look or note passed has your heart racing and you wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you have each other.

but after a few months the two of you get fully settled with one another and you start to slip up. with megumi pulling your chair out for you or holding the door for you but not the others, you start to get a few questioning looks. and you might have called him megs in front of the others one time- he might not forgive you for that one because now everyone calls him that to get on his nerves... oops.

it's not like either of you are trying to get caught, you both enjoy the benefits of dating in secret so much, you don't necessarily want to give that up. the others will definitely berate and interrogate you one day for keeping your relationship a secret for so long, but... it's just so nice.

"maybe we tell them when we graduate?" you hum, trying to brainstorm with your boyfriend to find the proper way to break the news.

megumi's chest rumbles under your cheek when he groans. if it were up to him, no one would ever know. surely he could have a successful relationship with you that way, right? it's been easy enough to cover it up so far, surely you could elope and build a life together in secret as well? shit, would gojo take it personally if he didn't tell him he was getting married? suddenly his mind is swarming with what a secret private wedding would look like, meanwhile you're laying against him in sielnce waiting for his response.

"megs..?" you call softly, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.

"maybe we fake our deaths. relocate. how's italy sound?"

you chuckle, tilting your head back to peer up at him.

"you're afraid of gojo, aren't you?" you hum knowingly. megumi glances down at you briefly, looking away as soon as you wiggle your eyebrows. you chuckle again.

"i'd be open to other places, too" he continues his thought.

"i think we should just rip it off like a bandaid," you ignore his getaway plan. "tell them we're together and have been all year. then if they have questions-"

"i'm not answering their questions" his voice is a mere whisper, as not to disturb the calming atmosphere you've created, but his words are final. you tap your finger against his chest a few times.

"i'll answer the questions then, you can just... stand there"

"do i even have to be there?"

"i don't think they'll believe me if you aren't" you giggle at the idea of trying to convince them that yes that stoic moody boy is actually a complete romantic towards you and you never thought a love like yours could be possible.

"are you saying our friends don't think i'm boyfriend material?" he asks, and you know he's baiting you, but you're honest with him anyways.

"that's exactly what i'm saying," you say, grinning up at him despite the scowl of fake hurt on his face. "but i know otherwise"

"fine. we'll tell them. and then you can answer the questions. and i'll... be there. for emotional support"

you giggle some more, tucking yourself further against him while he stares at the ceiling in despair. he already knows all of the questions your friends are going to ask and he can't help but dread them in advance. still, it will be nothing compared to the interrogation he'll surely receive from his guardian, later, when you aren't around to protect him (and his dignity)

"it'll be nice to be able to just say we're going on a date instead of you faking to be sick and me pretending i'm on an assignment. sneaking around was fun and all but..." you trail off, and megumi averts his gaze from the plain ceiling, peeking down at you where you nuzzle into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. he knows you're going to fall asleep on him, because you always do, but he doesn't mind. even if it makes his arm fall asleep. "i don't want to hide how much i love you anymore"

and then his escape plan sounds silly when you put it like that. so he hugs you tighter against him as you start to drift off- he can tell as your head feels a little heavier against his collar- and he brushes his lips over the crown of your head.

"i love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "we'll tell them as soon as you want"

he just wasn't expecting the moment to be ruined by his door slamming open and your friends inviting themselves in, only to be shocked at the scene they interrupted.

queue the noisy accusations and questions. megumi tries not to say i told you so as you tiredly sit up and rub your eyes so you can answer all of your friends' curiosities, while he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend he wasn't there.

of course he doesn't want to hide that he loves you... but for fucks' sake do they have to do this here and now????

#megumi brainrot #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi fanfiction #megumi imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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snixkers · 1 month

Text

Parallel Parked

Pairing: Spencer Reid × Wife!Reader

Fluff

For: @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Prompt!

Summary: You two take your daughter to school for the first time, but you can’t make yourselves leave the parking lot.

Content Warnings: Leaving kids at school, worries of children growing up, pure fluff

Author's Note: Absolutely love this, I'm a full believer in girl-dad Spencer!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

The bag was packed, the lunch was made, and your daughter was dressed and eager for her first day of school. Your husband had instilled in her a love of learning from an early age, attempting to teach her quadratic equations before she learned to walk. Even though she didn’t pick up on everything he was saying, the way she reached for his tie was cute enough for the both of you.

But that was the past. Now she was smiling from ear to ear as she ate her chocolate chip pancakes and watched the two of you get ready. Packing was always on Spencer due to his eidetic memory, but you still wanted to double-check that she had everything and sneakily add your own touches.

The two of you moved around with an unspoken sadness in the air, heavy with the knowledge that your daughter was no longer so little. Although she would soon be going off to her first day of kindergarten, you tried to keep yourself excited for her. After all, this was a great experience that could open up a gateway of learning for her.

She velcroed her shoes and stood up, straightening out her shirt and adjusting the large backpack she certainly wouldn’t need.

“I’m ready to go!”

Her cheerful voice cut through the dull atmosphere, and you both grabbed your keys and got ready to go. When you slipped into the car, she sat in her seat next to the backpack and turned on one of your husband’s favorite classical stations.

She looked excited, and you couldn’t blame her. That childlike wonder was one of your favorite parts about her. The drive was unusually quick. You’d gone this route several times before, and you swore it took twice the time.

She grinned even wider as she saw the school in the distance, kicking her little legs as if she couldn’t wait. As soon as the car was parked, she swung the door open with a burst of energy.

Spencer had to hurry to catch up to her as she ran towards the front doors. You grabbed her backpack and led her inside the winding halls, looking for the room number that her school sent out. She pointed it out for you, smiling proudly at her skills.

The two of you smiled at each other as she stood outside the classroom, waving at her teacher and making sure she had everything she needed. You both took turns hugging her, saying your ‘I love you’s and ‘goodbye’s. When she headed inside and took a seat at the table, you turned around and squeezed each other’s hands reassuringly as you headed back towards the car.

After unlocking the doors and taking your seats again, he just sat there in silence. You were quiet too, holding back bittersweet tears at the knowledge that she didn’t need you two anymore. He sniffled softly as well, staring at the doors of the school as the air thickened. You just sat together, sharing your sadness and pride in your daughter.

He took a deep breath, opening his mouth and voicing his concerns.

“What if she needs something and the school calls? We should wait here just in case.”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your tears and following his gaze to the front doors.

“She gets out of school at 11. It’s easier to wait a few hours. We can take her out for ice cream to celebrate.”

He squeezed your hand as you two relaxed, waiting for your daughter to return from her first day of school.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #spencer reid #reqs open #spencer reid x reader #mentioningmargins #dad!spencer reid #tooth rotting fluff

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urdinosaurs · 9 months

Note

HI I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ THAT HOBIE ONESHOT, U DROPPED SOMETHING, MY JAW ILOVEU LMAO u write amazingly all jokes aside!!!🫶🫶 and if you have time maybe another sheet gripping oneshot ig... lmaoaoaooa I'm sorry😭😭 thanks again ily

╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

PROMPT: what was supposed to be a one-time thing isn't, not when hobie slides his phone number in your bra after fucking you dumb backstage. it leads you to reserve sat nights for him to fuck him afterwards. however, one night you decide to trade your usual style for something more revealing. who knew the decision would provoke such jealousy and sex and change everything you thought you knew about hobie?

WARNINGS: afab reader, rockstar exhibitionist!hobie, unprotected p in v, major cockwarming, canon divergence, insecurity, self-consciousness, public sex, little degradation, possessive hobie, 5.2k wc

A/N: ahhh thank you, sm ily more, ur so silly and amazing and you get me!!! i've been meaning to write more rockstar hobie and was inspired by this post (editing this, i noticed some of the details are the same, which is completely unintentional. i do not mean in any shape or form to copy the author of that fic. I had written a good amount before the fic even came out. pls keep that in mind)

you were at hobie's shows more often than you would like to admit. you liked the music, the message it sent, and the atmosphere that filled you with a sense of belonging, but it's the performers that enticed you to come back to this dingy venue time and time again.

you knew each of them well after hobie expressed his attraction to you following a show almost three months ago when he had pulled you backstage and fucked you within an inch of your life. afterwards, he slipped a piece of paper into your bra and sent you off with a wink, his bandmates not hiding their stares and smirks at your rumpled clothing and smudged makeup. only when you were outside, sometime past midnight, did you pull the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the messy digits of his phone number scrawled across the dirty wrapper. it was a one-time thing until it wasn't.

from that day forward, you visited every saturday night, coming early to get a good place at the front, where he would shower you with subtle attention and lingering glances. this left you to act as desperate and horny as any other wearing low-cut tops and skirts, so small they hardly served their purpose, acting docile and dumb with a tinge of desperation; all tactics that were played in the endless roulette of catching his eye.

you lamented how these woman degrade themselves by shoving their self worth and respect away in the hopes of being noticed. not that you could be one to critize when that pliant and passive self you swallowed when he was on stage would be bullied out of you by his cock each time he pulled you somewhere new, somehow finding a way to make your legs shake better than the last time you met. you find your hypocrisy amusing.

the experiences, however, were euphoric. the risk of getting caught and the new highs of pleasure hobie brought you made a dangerous combination you found yourself addicted to.

at the end of your sexual encounters, he would bring you to the place they called "the lounge" to relax. alcohol was graciously provided along with the occasional cig or blunt, depending on what they could get their hands on, allowing you to indulge yourself. each of them got to know you better after each week while you sat in hobie's lap in an almost domestic scene, the four of them sending you on your way well past midnight. there was no name for this relationship you formed with hobie, and you learned to be okay with it, more so afraid of how fast he'd push you to the side if you wanted more.

tonight was no different. you moved to the music, neon lights dancing over your skin, shoulder to shoulder with people who reeked of booze and sweat. still, your exhilaration was responsible for the one thing that had changed: your outfit. the fabric was more revealing than any of the others you've worn, practically begging for his attention, and the possibility of receiving it outshines how desperate you must look. the regular attendees giving you dirty looks at your appearance don't matter, not when hobie's on stage.

the song ends, and clapping breaks out, cries and screams of approval thundering through the room. his smile is almost boyish as he leans into the mic, sweat gleaming deliciously across his skin.

"lookin' real nice for us tonight." he draws playfully, winking at one of the girls in the audience, and you fight the jealousy forming a pit in your stomach. "you must 'ave remembered our one-year anniversary, unlike these twiddling twats behind me." hobie gestures behind him teasingly, earning a punch to the shoulder from h, as they so call him, whose dreads frame his sour expression, unamused by his antics.

back and forth, hobie scans the crowd, wavering on familiar faces before moving on and inevitably landing on you. his surprise flickers across his face in an instant, and you know right then that he sees your outfit. he inspects you up and down, even leaning forward on his tippy toes to get a better view from above (and stare down your shirt).

your breath is caught in your chest, waiting in a state of anticipation and a sense of hopefulness, bouncing back and forth on your feet. it's funny how someone you look up to, their opinions and approval, can hold such a weight that you'd crave it as severely as you would thirst for water. you need something, just anything that says you've impressed him. it takes him a second to snap himself out of his trance, and that's when his lips curl into a devilish smirk.

"we got a looker tonight, boys," he whistles lowly. "migh' 'ave to take 'er back after 'his to show 'er a proper good time, doncha think?" he chuckles, laughter and cheers filling the room. you're astounded-- aroused, your jaw dropping and your eyelids drooping as you gape with the purest form of lust painted beautifully on your features. he shamelessly adjusts himself through his pants, earning screams and whistles alike as his tongue flicks to the roof of his mouth, staring at you dead in the eyes. "yeah, i think she would like that, wouldn'' ya, swee'heart?"

starstruck would be an understatement of what you feel. dumbfounded, brain dead, brainless, except for worshiping the ground he walked on would all be better ways to begin to describe what's taken hold of you. not trusting yourself to speak, he takes your fawning appearance as an answer, nodding to himself. his lip is caught between his teeth, stealing one last look before returning to the anxiously awaiting crowd.

"enough ov me tryna shag 'er. le''s get back to the show, yeah?" the rest of the performance passes by in a daze, and you're still reeling from the encounter earlier as people begin filling out. you follow them, conversation flowing effortlessly from the people around you as they gush about the experience. you move to the bar to wait for hobie, and a woman passes you. she sneers, scowling and looking at you up and down, her lips curled into a snarl. "whore," she spits before disappearing into the crowd.

your mouth opens to retaliate, but you're too astonished to speak, and you don't realize you've stopped moving until someone's shoulder collides with yours. the force makes you stumble forward, your breath hitching, your hands scrambling to stop the fall, but boney arms catch you before you can. slipping into their arms, you plant your hands on the mysterious chest to steady yourself, mumbling an apology before you can get your thoughts together.

"'s all right, luv." the familiar timbre of his voice has your eyes shooting upwards, catching on hobie's dark ones, twinkling with amusement and playfulness. "if 'his is all it takes for you to fall for me, i should 'ave done it sooner."

you scoff at his corny joke, pretending to find it stupid while glancing away in humiliation and dusting off your clothing.

"if that's your sense of humor, maybe i'm fucking the wrong guy." you tease, pulling your shirt collar in place, gathering the courage to steal a glimpse. hobie peers at you incredulously while huffing a laugh, cheeks pulling into a smile as he shakes his head.

"that mean yur not in the mood tonight?" he bends forward, and you can smell him better, leather, cigarettes, beer, and cologne all enticing you. "we can just hang if that's what ya' want." he offers, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you shake your head awkwardly, clearing your throat. "no– no, i want to. wouldn't have come if i didn't."

hobie's eyebrows raise at this, leaning in and invading your space further. "so that's all i'm good for? my dick?" he sounds curious, not offended, just wondering almost. you gape at him, embarrassed by his lack of decorum and how far removed that statement was from the truth. he cocks his head to the side, seemingly trying to figure you out, and you can't stand how easily he's able to.

"i didn't think you wanted me for anything but my body." you shrug, your gaze flitting away out of embarrassment.

"low blow, mate. i can't believe you would think so little of me," he clutches his hand to his chest dramatically, rolling his neck to the side in faux hurt.

"hey." he taps your cheek with two fingers, guiding it back to his, where his countenance has turned solemn. "don't think i would use you like 'at,' alright?"

nodding your head is about all you can do, offering him a half-hearted smile despite your lingering doubts. he sees through it because, of course, he does, but thankfully doesn't comment on it. turning to the door that allows access backstage, his head jerks to it in question.

a grin beams across your face, thankful for the change in the topic as you cling to his arm, letting him guide you back.

"nice get up" he nods to your outfit, his lopsided grin returning. "a bit revealing, innit?"

"thought you liked that." your shoulders shrug, breathing picking up. the interaction leaves you unsure where hobie's heading with this, and you're growing worried he's trying to insinuate something. the lady's jab reverberates in your head, leaving you wondering if he's hinting at what he heard before if he heard it. even though it's unlikely he would, due to his only instances of calling you such names being in the heat of the moment. unless you read it wrong, and it's not just while you're having sex, maybe it's how he views you, and you've just been naive enough to believe he thought more of you–

"oi." hobie stops, spinning around to face you. "what's goin' on?"

clearing your face of its surprised impression is more challenging than you anticipated, and he notices it, a hand falling to your shoulder. the contact burns your skin, making you painfully aware of how close he is. "is it about tonight? we don't have to--"

"i already said i want to hobie. it's nothing, just in my head, is all." studying you for a moment longer, he buys your response, not liking it but letting it slide for now. his arm slinks around your neck, where he pulls you to his side, the tension from the earlier conversation dissipating as soon as he pushes the door open. except when you enter, it's not some room with barely working lights or a bathroom that looks like it hasn't been cleaned in the last decade. instead, it's the lounge, and the three men sitting there are looking suspiciously between you.

you're never in here this early, and they know it too. the fact that he brought you here first knots your chest into the familiar sensation of arousal.

"hobie," you murmur, a lot shyer than you were a minute ago, anxiousness marrying your features. he grins wider, patting your back reassuringly and guiding both of you to the used, plush chair.

"thought you guys were gonna go at it like rabbits tonight," the rhythm guitarist comments, his striped headband holding his mohawk from his face, a deep frown etched in it. the excitement damping your panties has you hearing his voice in an entirely different light. you've listened to it hundreds of times before as backup vocals, but it's attractive how he lazily draws his phrases, and you can't help but wonder why you've never realized this before.

hobie's long fingers tap your jaw, clearly unhappy with your wandering focus. "who says we won''?" he responds nonchalantly, your first inclination of what's about to occur. he flops back into the chair with his hands behind his head. "sit," he commands you easily.

you glance back at the men who discreetly steal glances at your attire before you turn back to hobie, gulping.

he's hard. that much is painfully evident from the tent in his pants, and you search his expression for an explanation, yet he relinquishes nothing. it takes only a moment of deliberation, and you're stepping over his leg while he helps you take a seat, panties gliding over his erection. you're trying to get comfortable without making it obvious how much you want more than what he's giving you, but the breath is stolen from your lungs when you lean forward slowly, your hips grinding ever so slightly on his jeans' rough fabric. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, using your hips like a handle to pull you across his lap. your teeth sink into your lower lip to contain the yelp at the precipice of your lower lip, staring at him with wild eyes.

you're having trouble piecing together his next move, his purpose for bringing you here. he's obviously horny, but what's his goal? to show you off?

minutes pass, the conversation between the band members picks up, and the smell of weed fills the air shortly after. curiously you direct your attention to him, and hobie presses a kiss on your head in response, quietly sitting straighter so you're not sitting directly on his erection. music from the venue speakers fills the room while the building welcomes the last performers of the night. the walls vibrate with the bass, shattering any form of silence. from what you can tell, it's not bad, but you're too focused on the almost indistinct zip of hobie's zipper to notice.

his fingers dance over his pants, pulling his flushed tip from its confines, the rest springing out, hard and desperate. it takes longer than it should to figure out where he's going with this, and when you do, your head snaps to attention, mouth agape.

he offers you a smug smirk, raising his eyebrow as if daring you to cockwarm him in front of his buddies. he must feel the way your cunt throbs because his dark irises engulf his pupils, long fingers wrapping around himself with a concealed hiss, precum beading at the tip. if his hand lazily gliding around his cock head is anything to go by, he seems to enjoy your deliberation.

you reach forward slowly and lightly trace your finger over the exposed skin. hobie jumps, hips tilting up to meet your slow strokes, his shaft twitching. precum leaks further down his length, droplets of it meeting your curled fist.

taking a steadying breath and quickly glancing behind you to ensure the three other people, no more than six feet away, know what you are doing, you lift your skirt and pull your panties to the side, slowly sinking onto him. he's big, and without any prep, the stretch teeters on the edge of unpleasurable.

biting back your noises and moving steadily so the fluids from your connecting bodies are silent is the hardest part after being so used to him encouraging any sound. nonetheless, you manage somehow, fullying, seating yourself with a quiet huff, clenching and unclenching as you get used to being full. hobie's practically giddy with glee, his lips quirking in a sanguine grin, knowing full well you'd never deny him.

time passes in a slow tick, and conversation floating between his friends occupying the room becomes background noise with your head on hobie's chest. you're not focused on anything in particular, having drifted into an airy headspace, his silky cock the only thing keeping you grounded.

hobie's hand stops its slow circles across your lower back, boney fingers splaying across it. the break from his methodical comfort jerks you back to the present as he leans forward to grab the joint one of them offers.

his cock head shifts inside you, nudging a spot deeper inside your core that after so long of not moving, a light noise, an inkling of a whimper, vibrates in your throat. heat flares, red and hot, as the lust you've been trying to quell roars its head, setting your body ablaze.

you're striving to be good, you really are, but the peers from the others and hobie's smug grin are making it impossible to do so.

again he moves to return the blunt, and your slick drips down his cock obscenely. from being splayed across his lap for so long, you're hyper-aware of every ridge and curve of his dick, the veins lining it, and the distinct pulse it beats to. it's almost as needy as you and your achy clit begging for stimulation.

the beginnings of restlessness dawn upon you, hips sore from being kept open for so long. your toes curl in your shoes as you try to remain still, very aware of the other people in the room, though you must be getting too antsy for his liking because he pinches the fat of your hip. the sigh escaping your puckered lips is low enough for his ears alone.

a chuckle, not from hobie, resounds through the room, cutting through their easy conversation. "your girl ge''in sleepy on ya'?"

your hot breath fans across hobie's neck, and unconsciously your pussy flutters around his unmoving shaft. the feeling of him keeping you stuffed to the brim is too much, and you're becoming more desperate for him to provide you with stimulation of some sort.

"why don't you ask her?" hobie shrugs, his grip tightening. you can't see them, but you can only imagine their reaction as you hear a bean bag shift.

"'re you ge''in tired, swee'heart?" the drummer– no guitarist- asks, his voice dripping with condensation, the flirty undertone surprising you.

"turn 'round," hobie commends, jaw clenching while tapping your hip, "bit rude to turn your back on my mates when they're talkin' to ya', aye?"

your breathing picks up significantly, and you look to him for guidance, your heart beating outside your chest. his hardened expression melts just slightly, and his hand traces the contours of your face, letting his rings slide down before cupping your jaw gently. "you can do it. go on."

if the other men in the room had no idea what was happening then, they have to now when you turn around. his cock moves inside you, heavy and thick, and you nearly sob in relief. it's a miracle you're able to stifle your moans as you lift your hips ever so slightly, his dick slipping from your gummy walls while you carefully change direction, trying to hold him inside.

you're barely clinging onto the threads of your control, holding back from fucking yourself on him with the bit of restraint you possess. faintly it crosses your mind how they haven't protested or found any of hobie's exhibitionist tendencies, and apparently yours too, perverted. they want this, and hobie seems to know it too by how his body hunches possessively around you. gradually, the situation makes sense in a way that suggests he planned this. which begs the question, had they discussed this? after hobie's instance of not sharing you, had he done this to prove something?

your head swims with new information, and the desire singing in your veins turns your thoughts into molasses. each of them goggles at glimpses of your mound from where your skirt rides up, fixated on your trembling form. you slump back, the new angle making it harder to sit still.

the drummer shakes his head, blonde spikes streaked with red catching the dim light, lowly whistling when he catches sight of your skirt fluttering when you sit back down. he chuckles, "you perverted bastard."

"i don't know what ya' mean," hobie coyly replies, feigning indifference. you look at his band members, the tension rising now that they know for sure and see what's happening. the smell of sex permeates your senses the longer your eyes linger on the rest of them. the bassist, farthest away from you caresses himself through his pants to satisfy his bulge straining through it.

"at 'his poin,' jus' fuck 'er, 'obes. we all know wha' you're doin," one calls out, and you feel his neck straining as he scrutinizes him.

"so you dirty pigs can get a peak? nah, she's fine where she's at"

"well, if you're not gonna do it, i'm sure i can finish the job," h tilts his head, dark irises blown wide by his lust. it has your breath stuttering, your mind wiped by the simple request, and if hobie's taut muscles are anything to go by, he's growing increasingly frustrated by the idea. not jealous per se, he's too secure in himself to be, but almost angered by his audacity.

his hands engulf your hips in one quick movement pulling them forward to impale you hard on his cock. the moan punches from your throat, and you keen over, unable to move with the feeling of hobie so deep in your stomach.

"who says i wanna give her up?" he's moving you, grinding your clit over his pubic hair, and creating a rhythm that has you seeing stars. "happy?"

"by seeing her? fuck, i could cum from the sight alone, but i wouldn'' mind taking a go at it. who knows, she migh' like it better." he's playing into hobie's bitterness, and you don't know if you should thank him or not because it's spurring him on, and he's grunting and thrusting into you unsparingly.

"you're delusional," hobie drawls, pulling your back flush with his toned chest, and the movement chokes out a cry.

"your faul' for fucking your girl in fron' ov us when you know she likes it," the guitarist notes, the red and blue headphones around his neck sticking to his sweaty skin.

"you've never minded before," he retaliates, and you brush off the implications that this has happened before, and despite your efforts, you cling to the words "your girl." you have to bite your lip to contain your grin. since meeting him, all you wanted was to be his, and being referred to as his, proved to be a greater comfort than you could have imagined.

you fumble for something to ground you as your half-lidded eyes watch the members of the band you've known for months get off to you. the emotion building in your chest from the attention is unexplainable. however, hobie makes his disapproval obvious by keeping his hips snapping furiously. you're sure your cervix will be bruised at the end of this, and the ache between your legs will make walking impossible, but the way he's controlling your pleasure so spectacularly leaves little thought for the future.

"fuckin' hell, luv." he moans, his breath fanning across your neck. "they've been talking 'bout you, ya know?" hobie grunts suddenly, "longest time i've been with a girl, wanted to know when it was their turn" he lowers his voice, his mouth next to your ear as he takes ahold of your chin so you're staring right at his band members getting off. "know wha' i said, huh? I wasn't keen on sharin' 'his one. too perfect a girl for 'at. and do you know what they told me?"

you whine, shaking your head. the moans strain your throat from their loud pitch, unfiltered and unrestrained in a way the men seem to revel in.

"bastards didn't believe me. shoved the idea of an angel willingly bouncing on my cock like a cheap whore. now look at them. a bloody mess at the sight of ya'."

he's right, and it's becoming impossible to think of anything outside this moment, outside him pistoning into you. his thrusts are measured but aggressive all the same, almost as if he's trying to prove to them that no one could fuck you as well as him. he's all you can feel as moans and whines tumble out.

"bloody hell, mate. swear, you gotta let me have a taste," the drummer, whose name escapes you, begs, pulling his rather significant length from his pants, tugging on it with an expression you can only define as carnality.

"see. what did i tell you? practically drooling for ya'." hobie ignores him, fingers snaking around to furiously rub your neglected clit, the base of his cock disappearing in your slick-coated walls. there's nothing human about how he maintains his thrusts, possessiveness embedded into your skin from how hard his fingers hold your hips. the ugly mixture of jealousy turns you on far more than it should.

"shit, such a good girl, f'me, all f'me. best hole i've ever 'ad."

your eyes are blurry with tears, choking on your spit, moans cutting off any attempt at talking while your legs shake. hobie's pace doesn't falter, seemingly encouraged by your rapidly growing climax. "there you go, sweet thing. gonna cum? show these twits they couldn't make you feel half as good?"

whines and whimpers fill the air along with the course of skin slapping over the music based in the next room.

you whimper, mustering your strength to nod your head frantically, on the verge of babbling. he delivers a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to arch into him.

"right there, 's right there, fuckin angel. perfect, f'me, just me." he's reduced to babbling, impaling you relentlessly with his twitching dick, balls slapping lewdly against your ass while tears gather behind your eyes. there's none of the eye contact he usually craves, just your sweaty body slumped into his, thighs perched open by his in a way that would be intimate if it wasn't for the three other people in the room.

his thumb vigorously rubs circles on your clit, your pussy gripping him like a voice while the knot in your stomach tightens. you're nearing the edge faster than you can make sense of, his pace unfaltering, when suddenly he's forcefully pressing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. you're coming with a strangled cry the next second, your back bending off his toned chest, the tension in your stomach breaking in one sudden push. he chases his orgasm like a madman, fucking into you like somebody will rip you from his arms if he doesn't.

all at once, his sticky body stutters, his chest heaving as hobie cums with a filthy moan. his mouth parts in a silent cry, broken sounds of pleasure auditable through the wet squelch of your pussy and the obscene sounds that follow your release.

your sure the both of you are a sight to behold with your matching fucked out expressions as a result of coming down from an intense, mind-shattering high. his absurd amount of spend is plugged deep inside by his softening cock. it takes a couple of moments for your breaths to even out, and you can already feel the beginnings of soreness settling in your joints.

"fuck me, bro," his drummer sighs, using a tissue to wipe his cock free from his cum. "i don't know how you do it. i can never get good pussy like you."

and just like that, the high is ripped away, abruptly plunging you back into reality. the lady's words echo in your head, blaring red and loud like a warning. whore. that's all you were to them. some cheap use of cunt that's only good for a release. it's why he never invited you any other day than saturday. why your relationship is built on sex alone and not some connection you seem to feel.

it's as if someone dumped cold water over you, and you're suddenly vulnerable. even fully dressed, you feel as exposed as if you were naked, thoroughly used with hobie's cum leaking out of you. truly you feel like nothing more than a whore while being spread open so vulgarly.

slowly you stand, mindful of your achy body. his touch lingers like he's not expecting you to leave, and you squash the hope he wants you to say before it can fully form. the other guys realize this is your goodbye before hobie does, beaming at you.

"maybe next time, sweetheart. you let us know if this geezer ain't treating you right, yeah?" h announces, grinning while tucking himself back into his pants, hobie following suit, his stare burning a hole in the back of your head. you smile, humorlessly chuckling as you try to regain some sense of dignity.

"hey," hobie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, grabbing your hand with a severe expression forgoing his usual playful complexion. "aren't you staying?"

"i figured i'd better get out of your hair early. i'm sure you have things to do." your clothing has been fixed, yet you keep fiddling with it, using it as a distraction and a reason not to keep the eye contact he's searching for.

"never said 'at." silence follows like he's leading up to a question he's afraid to ask. "everything alright?"

swallowing the knot in your throat, you hum in agreement. "yeah. yeah, i'm fine."

you expect him to brush it off like he did the past couple of times because why would he care about how you feel? it's not like you're in a relationship. he is not obligated to feed you reassurance and ensure you're okay. you prepare to take a step back to leave, afraid to face him reflecting the disappointment bubbling in your chest.

you don't know how he does it, how he can so effortlessly continue to surprise you and question everything you think you know about him all by a simple tug at your hand. the gasp is stuck in your throat when your feet trip over each other by the pull, and you somehow end up in his lap, gazing into his adamant and worried features. "i don't believe you."

"yeah, well…" trailing off, your standing attempts are denied by his rings digging into your skin.

"not gonna ask again, luv," hobie says sternly, leaving no room for argument. he searches your face for an answer, lips pressing into a rigid line while waiting for a response. you're trying to find an excuse when you see it. the shift in his eyes, the shine that replaces it, and his face overcome with realization. "does it 'ave some'hin' to do with wha' she said?"

your entire face falls, your heart sinking to your stomach in horror. had he heard what the woman had said? it wasn't impossible since he was so close when he caught you. he could have easily heard it. "you started actin' funny after she said it," he explains, though it isn't needed. you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding and frantically trying to find a way to escape this, but he beats you to it by pulling you into his chest.

"you're not." these two simple words set your entire world off its axis or right back on it: you're not sure which yet. it takes longer than necessary to sink in, and once it does, your chest is tight with emotion. you have half a mind to argue, deny it like the voice in the back of your head is begging you to do.

"you're not," he says with firm authority, his hands grasping at your shoulders in a plea for you to understand. you might never know why, but it makes your heart stop and speed up simultaneously.

he observes you slowly grasping the words, letting you accept them under his roaming gaze. the stiff lines of your face relax in acceptance, and his smirk curls into something devious as he kisses the crown of your head.

"don't worry, you're pretty 'ead, luv. they'll learn not to mess with mine soon enough."

this not all that sorry yall

TAGLIST: @alicefallsintotherabbithole

#🦕 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝓁𝓎𝓁𝒶 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈 #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x reader smut #hobie brown smut #hobie x you #spiderpunk #atsv hobie #hobie brown atsv #urdinosaurs spider verse

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lecsainz · 1 year

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Sister's Support

pairings: daniel ricciardo x sister!reader / charles leclerc x ricciardo!reader / max verstappen x ricciardo!reader / lando norris x ricciardo!reader / carlos sainz x ricciardo!reader

warnings: a day in the paddock with the ricciardo’s siblings, daniel being an annoying and funny brother, 2022 grid.

authors note: i think i don't need to say BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS VERY MUCH, apparently i love writing them all 😅 and i just miss ricc 😭 well, i hope you all like it.

word count: 1.7K

Y/N had always been too busy with college to attend her brother's races, and she never wanted to be in the public eye. As a result, she chose not to accompany Daniel through the paddock, opting instead to stay in a reserved family room or in the grandstands.

But one day, something shifted inside her. She woke up and realized that she wanted to experience a race in all its glory - to walk through the paddock, meet the drivers, and feel the energy of formula 1. And so she made the decision to join Daniel at a race, fully immersing herself in the world of motorsport.

And here she was stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down her dress and adjusting her hair. Today was the day of the race, and she was excited to be joining Daniel in the paddock.

She had flown in from Australia to Monaco just for this event, and she was determined to make the most of it.

As she finished applying her makeup, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey sis, you ready?" Daniel called out.

Y/N opened the door to find her brother grinning at her. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, rolling her eyes.

Daniel laughed. "You look great. Although, maybe a little too great," he teased.

Y/N scowled at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Daniel just grinned. "Nothing, nothing. I just don't want any of the other drivers to get distracted by my little sister."

Y/N rolled her eyes again. "Please, as if."

As they walked through the hotel lobby, Y/N couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious. She was wearing a tight dress and heels, while Daniel was dressed in his usual casual attire.

But as they stepped outside and made their way to the paddock, Y/N started to relax. There was a buzz in the air, a sense of excitement that was contagious.

And as they walked through the paddock, Y/N felt her spirits lift even higher. There were so many people, all dressed in team colors and milling about, chatting and laughing.

Daniel introduced her to some of his colleagues, and Y/N tried her best to keep up with the racing lingo. She was a little intimidated by all the technical jargon, but she could tell that everyone was impressed by her enthusiasm.

She watched in amazement as her older brother Daniel climbed out of his race car, his face beaming with excitement. It was the first time she had ever come to a race with him, and the atmosphere was electric. Everywhere she looked, there were people milling about, mechanics tweaking engines, and drivers zipping around on their scooters. It was a world unlike any she had ever seen.

"Come on, sis!" Daniel called, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's go check out the paddock!"

Y/N followed him eagerly, taking in all the sights and sounds around her. As they walked, Daniel waved to other drivers, slapped high fives with mechanics, and generally acted like he owned the place.

"Hey, there's Max!" he said excitedly, pointing out the Red Bull driver as he walked by. "Hey, Max, over here!"

Max turned to look at them and raised an eyebrow in greeting. "Hey, Daniel. Who's your friend?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "She's a bit of a newbie to all this, but I'm showing her the ropes."

Max nodded, giving Y/N a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. You should come hang out with me and the guys later. We'll show you how to party properly."

Y/N felt a blush creeping up her neck. She had never been good at handling attention from guys, and Max was one of the most handsome drivers on the circuit.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she stammered, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

Daniel chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Don't mind her, Max. She's still a bit star-struck. Come on, let's go find some food."

They made their way to the hospitality area, where teams had set up tents and tables for their guests. As they approached the McLaren tent, Daniel saw a group of his teammates sitting together, laughing and joking.

"Hey, guys!" he called out, striding up to them. "Mind if I introduce you to my sister?"

The guys looked up, their eyes widening as they saw Y/N. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her makeup was immaculate. They had never seen Daniel with a girl like her before.

"Hey, Y/N," Lando Norris said, grinning widely. "Welcome to the crazy world of Formula 1."

"Thanks," Y/N said, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention. "It's amazing to be here."

They chatted for a few minutes, with Daniel teasing Y/N mercilessly about her lack of knowledge about the sport. "She doesn't even know what DRS stands for," he told his friends, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm learning," she protested. “And I know what it is DRS stands for Drag Reduction System, it's a...”

Daniel interrupts his sister “Or... DRS could stand for Daniel Ricciardo Supremacy. I mean, let's be real, that's what it's all about, right?”

Just then, they heard a voice calling out from across the paddock. "Hey, Dan! Over here!"

It was Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari driver, waving them over. Daniel grinned, giving Y/N a quick hug before leading the way.

"Hey, man!" he said, clapping Carlos on the back. "What's up?"

"Not much, just hanging out," Carlos said, grinning at Y/N. "And who's this lovely lady?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, proudly introducing her. "She's come to watch me race."

"Ah, I see," Carlos said, winking at her. "Well, you're welcome to hang out with us if you want, Y/N. We could use a bit of glamour in the Ferrari garage."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush again at the attention. "Sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to act cool.

For the rest of the day, Y/N found herself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. She watched as Daniel went through his pre-race routine, making sure that everything was in place for a successful day on the track. As she stood by his side, Daniel made sure to include her in every step of the process, explaining things to her and answering any questions she had.

During the race itself, Y/N watched from the pit wall as Daniel battled it out with the other drivers on the track. She felt a thrill of excitement as he made daring overtakes and defended his position against his rivals.

And while Daniel didn't end up winning the race, Y/N still felt a sense of pride and excitement as she watched him climb out of the car, sweaty and exhilarated.

As the celebrations wound down, Y/N found herself wandering around the paddock, feeling a little lost. That was when she saw him.

Charles Leclerc was standing a few feet away, talking to some of his mechanics. He looked up and caught her eye, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She had always had a bit of a crush on Charles, with his charming smile and piercing green eyes.

"Hey," he said, walking over to her. "You're Daniel's sister, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a little shy. "Yeah, that's me."

Charles smiled at her, looking genuinely interested. "So, what do you think of all this?"

"It's amazing," Y/N said, feeling a little more at ease now. "I've never seen anything like it."

Charles nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, it can be pretty overwhelming at first. But once you get used to it, it's just another day at the office."

They chatted for a few more minutes, with Charles asking Y/N about her life and interests. Y/N found herself relaxing more and more, feeling like she could actually be herself around him.

"Hey, would you like to grab a drink later?" Charles asked, sounding a little hesitant. "I know this great little bar down the road."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She had never expected something like this to happen.

"Yeah, that sounds great," she said, feeling a little giddy.

Charles smiled at her, and Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach.

As Y/N and Charles walked away, Daniel spotted them from across the paddock. He jogged over, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" he asked, nudging Y/N in the side.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother's teasing. "Just hanging out," she said, trying not to sound too excited.

Daniel turned to Charles, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "Watch out, mate," he said, grinning. "Y/N's a bit of a heartbreaker."

Charles laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Is that right?"

Daniel nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, you better keep an eye on her. She's trouble, I tell you."

Y/N groaned, feeling herself turn red. "Daniel, stop it," she said, swatting him on the arm.

"Charles, did you know that Y/N has a crush on a certain number 16 driver?" he said, grinning at his younger sister.

Y/N felt her cheeks turn bright red.

"Daniel, please." she hissed.

"Really?" Charles started teasing her. "Maybe I have a crush on her too."

She looked surprised at the monegasque and he gave her a wink. Y/N was sure she was redder than ferrari.

But despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn't help feeling grateful to have her brother there. He might tease her relentlessly, but she knew he had her back no matter what.

As they continued chatting, Daniel made sure to include Y/N in the conversation, joking and teasing with both her and Charles. Y/N felt herself relaxing more and more, enjoying the company of her brother and this charming young driver.

And as she looked over at her brother, grinning from ear to ear, Y/N felt a sense of happiness that she had never felt before. Maybe, just maybe, she had found her place in the crazy, wonderful world of formula 1 after all.

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

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An idea that popped in my head before bed. I hope you guys enjoy it! Been a bit since I've written my own Robin idea so I hope it's worth the read 🫶🏻🩷

Robin writes a love note for Vickie but accidentally puts it in Readers locker

Wrong locker

Robin has been trying to figure out the best way to confess her feelings to Vickie. Robin figured since she couldn't even speak a word to the pretty redhead in general, writing down her feelings would be best. But Robin didn't want to sound like a crazy stalker so she settled for a simple love note.

Robin took a deep breath as she walked to Vickie's locker, she slipped the pink paper in the small cracks. She held her breath as the note dropped in. The sound of the bell had her racing to the other side of the hallway. She tried to look busy but kept her eye on the locker.

She smiled as Vickie walked up, but her stomach dropped when she noticed Vickie was opening the locker next to the one with the note. Robin panicked, whose locker was the note in?

Fear filled Robin's bones as Y/N walked up. The girl's atmosphere was terrifying. Her leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and perfume. Her healed black boots echoed down the halls. Her tight jeans framed her body along with her tight band T-shirt. She was intimating, and she liked to be. Her sharp eyes glared at anyone who looked at her. A snarl on her lips if anyone bothered to talk near her.

Robin felt like she wanted to die when Y/N opened her locker, the pink note falling to Y/N's feet. Robin prayed she wouldn't pick it up, maybe stomp on it and move on.

But no, Y/N picked up the note. Robin was stuck in her spot, she needed to run but she couldn't move.

Y/N tried to keep the smile off her face. No one has seen her smile and that wasn't going to change. But she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter at the sweet note. She knew she was intimidating and scared people off. But she's never had someone see her in such a romantic way.

She knew of Robin Buckley, the cute bandgirl. Y/N played on the volleyball team and the band always played at their games. Was Robin watching her the whole time?

Y/N put the note in her pocket, closing her locker. She turned around to walk to class when she spotted Robin staring. Once they made eye contact, Robin looked down at her shoes.

Please don't walk up to me

Please please please

"Hey Buckley," Y/N's voice ran shivers up Robin's spine. She gulped and looked up. Y/N stood in front of her, her confident frame stood tall.

"I'm sorry! The note was-" Robin went to explain what happened but Y/N cut her off.

"The note was very sweet. Thank you, it made my day. I'll call you." Y/N said, a smirk on her face as she took in Robin's nervous frame.

Robin didn't dare to breath until Y/N strutted off.

~~~

"And turns out it was the wrong locker!" Robin explained, her voice wavering between pitches. Her nervous hands were shaking as she told the story to Steve.

Steve nodded along with his arms crossed. Robin tended to talk throughout their shifts and not do any work. So Steve picked up the slack. But the place was dead so gossip time took full attention.

"Whose did it end up in?" Steve asked, he uncrossed his arms as he reached to grab his drink.

"Y/N."

Steve's eyes went wide and his water flew out of his mouth. Steve was a grade above Y/N throughout high school, and even he was terrified of her. He prayed he'd never run into her after graduation. Her sneer and hard eyes kept him up at night. He still has nightmares about the day he ran into her, his hot coffee staining her shirt. Steve could almost feel the bruises on his cheek forming again.

"You're fucked!" Steve said.

"Dingus! Don't you think I know that? She said she was going to call me! What the hell do I do?" Robin panicked.

"Maybe she won't call you! Let's not stress about anything yet." Steve said

~~~

Robin sighed in relief when she crawled into bed, not a single phone call from Y/N. Maybe Y/N just wanted to make Robin nervous and never planned to do anything about the note.

Ring

Robin gulped as she picked up the phone, she hoped more than anything that Steve was calling about his lame date.

"Sorry, gorgeous. Volleyball went very late." Y/N's voice traveled through the phone, and it still made Robin nervous.

"It's okay." Robin gulped, her fingers playing with the telephone cord.

"I know this place downtown, maybe Friday night after the game, we can go?"

Robin tried to say no, all she had to do was explain the mix-up. But she was scared of Y/N's reaction. One date couldn't hurt, maybe Y/N would realize how boring Robin was and wouldn't be interested.

~~~

Robin packed up her instrument, talking with Vickie about the game. Robin tried her best to keep the conversation going.

"Ready gorgeous?" Y/N asked. Robin couldn't help but blush at the nickname being said to her face. Y/N was sweaty and panting from the game, and Robin couldn't help but find it hot.

"Yeah just gotta pack up." Robin rushed out, her eyes meeting Y/N's for one quick second.

"Okay. I'm going to change then I'll meet you in the parking lot?" Y/N suggested. Robin nodded and felt the air return to her lungs when she walked away.

"What's going on?" Vickie asked, she didn't bother to hide how shocked she was.

"She kinda asked me out." Robin shrugged.

"Oh, cool," Vickie said, but Robin couldn't help but notice how displeased Vickie looked about the news. Was she jealous?

~~~

Robin tried not to stare at Y/N as they walked into the bar, but Y/N looked hot in her tight black jeans, tank top, and signature leather jacket. Robin tried to ignore how sweaty her palms were.

Robin was confused about why they'd go to a bar when they weren't of age, but Y/N knew the bartender it seemed. Y/N walked to the back booth, near a pool table.

Y/N had a beer and Robin had an iced tea. Y/N made good conversation and Robin was surprised by the things they had in common. Robin found herself enjoying Y/N's presence.

A few hours passed and Robin swung her feet as Y/N played pool. Robin didn't know how to play and she did not want to look like an idiot in front of Y/N.

"Come here and just try!" Y/N encouraged, she's been trying to get Robin to play for the last hour. But Robin kept shaking her head.

Y/N gave up on convincing Robin, instead, she'd make Robin do it.

Robin gulped as Y/N grabbed her hand and lifted her off the stool.

"No, I'm not any good!" Robin tried but Y/N shushed her. Y/N placed the stick in Robin's hand, stood behind her, and corrected her form. Robin couldn't help but feel slightly turned on as Y/N's body was pressed against her back. The feeling of Y/N's breath against her ear, and Y/N's arms wrapped around her, made Robin feel fuzzy.

Robin took a deep breath, letting Y/N guide her to hit the small white ball. Robin watched as the stick hit the ball, it rolled and rolled until it smacked into a red ball, disappearing into the corner.

"You did it!" Y/N cheered, Robin couldn't help but get lost in her dazzling smile. At that moment Y/N didn't seem so scary and intimidating. She looked beautiful and happy.

~~~

A few weeks passed and Robin cursed herself for leading Y/N on. Robin couldn't help but be swept up in all the dates and how special Y/N made her feel. It made Robin wonder why she never looked at Y/N in the first place.

But Robin was tugged between Vickie as well. The girl the note was made for. It seemed Vickie was jealous of all the dates between Robin and Y/N. Robin remembered the hard look in Vickie's eyes when she showed up in Y/N's jacket.

"Are you cold?" Y/N asked, her hand laced with Robin's as they walked through the carnival. Robin wore a thin long sleeve, not expecting the wind to be chilly.

"No, I'm fine!" Robin argued, but the shivering of her teeth and tight shoulders gave her up.

Y/N smiled and took off her jacket, placing the warm leather over Robin's shoulders. Immediately lacing their hands together again.

A jacket Robin still hasn't given back. She wore it every day to school. To make Vickie jealous? Or to have pride she got Y/N to go soft? She wasn't sure.

She felt torn between both girls.

~~~

"Do you like her?" Steve asked, he felt bad for the situation Robin got herself in.

"I think so? But I don't know if I like her because she makes Vickie jealous." Robin explained. She was stuck in her personal hell.

"Well if Vickie's jealous, it means she has feelings for you. So you have your answer. Vickie is interested and single. Do you want to go after her? Or stay with Y/N?"

"I think I want Vickie. I mean the note was meant for her but I'm afraid if Y/N finds out the note was for Vickie, she'll snap me in half " Or maybe she was worried it would snap Y/N in half.

~~~

Robin sat across Y/N as she sipped on a milkshake. Robin's stomach hurt too much to enjoy the sweetness.

"Are you okay? You look like you might be sick." Y/N said, her milkshake pushed to the side as she reached across for Robin's hand. Robin gulped as Y/N's soft thumb rubbed her skin.

Just say it, Robin repeated in her head. She needed to tell the truth before Y/N truly fell for Robin.

"I need to tell you something," Robin said, her free hand gripping the leather jacket by her lap. Y/N encouraged her with a small smile.

"Remember the note?"

"Of course I do." Y/N smiled

"I put it in the wrong locker," Robin said quickly, wincing as the words finally were put into the air.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, her head turned as she tried to understand.

"I wrote the note for Vickie and I was scared to tell you. " Robin looked up to catch Y/N's reaction. The smile turned upside down as a frown covered its place. Robin has never seen so much emotion on Y/N's face. And just like she feared, the terrifying hard mask appeared on Y/N's face.

Robin tried not to flinch as Y/N removed her hand and moved it quickly into her lap. Robin's palm smacked the table. As always, Robin ran her mouth until she made it worse.

"And I just didn't want to hurt you! And I was a little scared you'd break me in half. So I went along with the date, not expecting you'd like me! Because like I'm me and I'm so boring compared to you. I figured you'd see dating me was blah and wouldn't be interested. But then you asked for more dates and I was-"

"Scared to say no, yeah got it." Y/N barked. She was an idiot to believe someone saw her as something else than a scary monster that lurked in the halls. All this time, she thought Robin saw something in her, something worth liking and learning to love. But no, Robin was scared just like everyone else.

Y/N refused to let how upset she was shown on her face. She shook it off and grabbed her wallet. She slammed down some bills on the table, the harsh air hitting Robin's hand, she flinched again.

Robin was scared to look up as Y/N stood up. She was too scared to see the look on Y/N's face.

"Look at me," Y/N growled, Robin swallowed nervously and looked up. But there was a softness in Y/N's eyes.

"You're not boring, and you're not blah. You're funny, fun, and beautiful. Don't think so low of yourself. Next time, make sure the note goes in the right locker. I'll see you around Buckley."

Robin didn't know what to say. Y/N walked off, leaving her jacket with Robin.

~~~

Robin barely slept that night. She felt so guilty, and not all relieved. She thought telling Y/N would take the weight off her shoulders, but it was the opposite. The weight on her shoulders now crushed down on her chest.

Y/N's jacket thrown over Robin's desk chair was a painful reminder she had to see Y/N again.

The next morning, Robin held the jacket in her arms as she walked up to Y/N's locker.

"Um hey," Robin said quietly, Y/N and Vickie looked up at the sound of her voice. Robin shrunk under the gaze of both girls.

Y/N figured she was talking to Vickie so she turned back around to her locker.

Robin couldn't help but feel like she was slapped in the face as Y/N ignored her completely.

"I have your jacket." She said, tapping Y/N's shoulder. Y/N turned around, grabbed the jacket, and slipped it back on her body. In a way Robin felt a weird feeling of pride. She knew it was Y/N's jacket in the first place, but Robin wore it for weeks to where it almost felt like hers. It felt like Y/N was wearing Robin's jacket.

"Thanks," Y/N muttered the locker behind her slammed shut as she quickly walked off. Y/N couldn't watch Robin and Vickie talk about their feelings.

"Yikes, she's back to cold." Vickie observed.

"Yeah I kinda broke things off," Robin explained, a feeling in her stomach as Vickie tried to fight off a smile.

"Oh that's too bad!" Vickie said, but Robin could hear the excitement in her voice. "What happened?"

"I wrote this note to ask you out and I accidentally put it in her locker. I've been too scared to tell her but I finally did. And I think she hates me." Robin said, looking over her shoulder but Y/N was long gone.

"Ask me out?" Vickie asked, a smile on her face.

"Yeah," Robin said with a smile. Her face warmed when Vickie reached forward to lace their hands together. Robin couldn't help but notice Vickie's grip wasn't as tight and safe as Y/N's. Robin didn't feel like she was protected like the way she did in Y/N's hands.

"I'd love to!" Vickie cheered, both girls sharing a bright smile.

But Robin couldn't help but feel an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

~~~

It didn't take long for Robin and Vickie to officially be together. Steve was proud of Robin for finally making a choice, but even he couldn't help but feel like it was the wrong one.

Robin spent every minute with Vickie, searching for the fluttering in her stomach that she had with Y/N. Robin thought it was fear but maybe it was excitement.

Robin tried to fight off the frown on her face when Y/N passed her in the halls. No more warm smile sent her way. Just a hard look, the same look she gave everyone else.

Was Vickie the right choice?

#robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x female reader #robin Buckley fluff #robin buckley angst x female reader #robin buckley angst #robin buckley fluff x female reader #ashwhowrites #robin buckley fic

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exhaslo · 4 months

Text

Puzzle Pieces Ch11

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, car sex, cockwarming, praise

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There was a slight chill in the air as the season's first snowflakes finally trickled down the cloudy sky. The moment Halloween passed, the atmosphere just smelled like Christmas. Every store, building and park was decorated for the holiday season.

Despite the cold winter air, the citizens of Nueva York kept their fall attire of simple t shirts and light sweaters. Those from out of town were easy to identify.

Such as Eddie Brock, who wore a thick coat and hat as he stood in front of your supermarket job. Frustrated by the fact that he could see his breathe, Eddie made his way inside. He breathed a sigh of relief towards the warmth and proceeded to the bakery section.

"Excuse me, is (Y/N) here?" Eddie said smoothly with a charming smile. One of the workers glanced at him,

"Not sure, she works at the Deli."

"Oh, Deli? Really?" Eddie whispered and thanked the worker.

That was a surprise. You were too chicken to handle something as fast pace as the deli back home. Here was worse. Hell, Eddie wouldn't be surprised if he saw you with gray hairs. Just the thought made him snort.

"Is (Y/N) around?" Eddie asked your supervisor.

Upon hearing your name, your supervisor glanced up at Eddie. Not recognizing the man, your supervisor hesitated. Everyone in the supermarket knew that you and Miguel were a thing. Miguel had already claimed you as his own and everyone was to make sure you did not have a hard time.

It wouldn't be pretty if you did.

"She called out." Your supervisor said simply and glanced at Eddie once more, "Mind if I ask who you are so I can inform her when she comes back."

"Her boyfriend. She left while I was away for work, do you think I could know when she works next? I'm sure she will be pleasantly surprised to see me,"

"Sorry, can't give out that information."

"Not even to her boyfriend?"

"No." Your supervisor said firmly. Eddie scoffed slightly,

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow then."

Once Eddie was out of sight, your supervisor was quick to reach for the store phone. You picked a good day to call out, but Jessica was not here to see this interaction. Eddie was a dead man if Miguel ever found out that he claimed to be your boyfriend.

"Yes, I have some news for the boss."

----------

You were ecstatic as Miguel took you out for the day. It took little to no convincing when he had you call out and already had his driver waiting. You put on your best clothes for him and followed Miguel everywhere.

Everything you looked at for longer than 10 seconds, Miguel ended up buying. You were quick to get embarrassed and tried to tell him to stop spoiling you, but you secretly loved it. No one had spoiled you the way he was.

"The bed is going to have no room for us if you keep looking at stuffed animals," Miguel whispered in your ear before kissing your shoulder. You felt your cheeks heat up as you turned to him,

"S-Sorry, they're all just so c-cute." You replied and grabbed his hand as you pulled him past the store, "B-But I don't n-need anymore!"

"Amor (love), let me get you everything your heart desires." Miguel said with a loving smile.

You hugged Miguel in response. You really couldn't believe how good he was to you. That and you kept forgetting that he was rich. Miguel will literally buy you everything you want and that was dangerous.

"I-I like those plush...B-But all I really want t-to cuddle with is...is you," You squeaked, hiding your face in your sleeves.

Miguel nearly groaned at your cute little confession. He just wanted to grab you by the waist and cover you with kiss and marks, but, you were out in a public mall. Miguel had a reputation to keep. He was just going to have to wait until you two get in the car.

As the two of you passed a large opening, Miguel looked down at the street below. Furrowing his brows, Miguel watched as a small crowd formed around two drug addicts being cuffed by the police. This was nothing new, but the drug was.

Thanks to the new mafia gang in town, Venom, a new drug has spread like wildfire. Miguel did not like it when his city and people were being threaten. This new drug was making whoever took it hallucinate that they were part of a hive mind and worshiped their King.

"Miggy, I'm going to get a drink. D-Do you want anything?" You asked innocently, unaware of what was happening around you.

"No thank you, amor. Here," Miguel gave you his card and kissed your hand, "Get yourself a snack too. You look a little pale,"

"Mhm, t-thank...you,"

Miguel watched you smile shyly, hurrying back to the line. He had to protect your smile. You were robbed of it so much already. As Miguel watched you, he felt his burner ring. Quickly answering it, Miguel moved away from other people.

"Sir, we got a tip from the supermarket. A stranger appeared and requested for (Y/N), claiming to be her boyfriend." Jessica said over the line. Miguel inhaled sharply,

"Did they send footage?"

"Yes, Lyla is sending you an enhanced image of her ex. We'll finally have a face to go with the name."

"The audacity for him to call himself her boyfriend, ha...Hahaha, I'm going to-"

"Hehe, what's so funny?" You asked, your smile wide as you drank your sweet smoothie. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"Nothing, mi dulce conejito (my sweet little bunny)." Miguel patted your head, adoring your expression, "Jessica, I want everyone to keep an eye out, okay?" He whispered.

"One more thing, Miguel. Apparently, Eddie is going to keep going back to the supermarket until he sees (Y/N)."

"That won't happen,"

With a click, Miguel hung up on Jessica and returned his attention to you. That smile of yours was being threaten again. As much as Miguel wanted to leave and go find your ex now, he couldn't leave you alone.

"Miguel, is there anything you want?" You asked, holding his hand.

"We're shopping for you today,"

"I-I know, but Christmas...is around the c-corner...and...and I want to get you s-something...t-that you'll like...or...need." You whispered, pressing your head against his arm. Miguel felt his chest tighten, wondering how many horrible holidays you've gone through,

"Anything you give me I'll cherish with all my heart," Miguel kissed the top of your head, walking around the mall some more, "But, if it pleases you, I can have my assistant, Lyla, help you."

"R-Really?! T-Thank you!"

Miguel was eager to gobble you up again. He resisted and kept spoiling you by buying clothes, gifts and whatever you looked at. He had forgotten about Christmas, since it really wasn't something that Miguel focused on.

Miguel probably should start getting his mother and brother something for Christmas, and of course you. Noticing one of the pop up Christmas stores coming up ahead, Miguel felt you slightly pull against his sleeve.

"Go on, conejita (bunny). I'm right behind you."

You squealed softly as you hurried to the store. Miguel chuckled lowly since it was one of those calendar stores, but it wasn't the calendars that made you excited. Miguel casually stood behind you as you ravaged the puzzles.

Now this gave Miguel an idea.

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You hummed happily as you walked out of the mall with lots of new puzzles. Sure, Miguel bought you plenty of other things, but the puzzles was what you were more excited about. Having his driver take all of your bags, you smiled as Miguel followed you inside.

"Someone's happy," Miguel teased. You slowly crawled onto his lap, pecking his lips,

"Thank you...so...so much!" You chirped. Miguel's hands rested against your waist, gently biting your lip,

"We have some time until we reach the restaurant." He groaned, slowly undoing your pants. You huffed your cheeks softly,

"D-Don't be t-too rough."

"Never," Miguel said with a smirk as he hand stroked your cheek.

You whimpered softly, feeling your heart race as Miguel started to give you an array of kisses. Although you said for him not to be too rough, you honestly loved it when he was. Slowly grinding your hips against his, you melted against his touch.

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Eddie cursed slightly as he walked down the streets of Nueva York. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he watched the normal citizens ignore him. That was all going to change soon. Soon, his new drug was going to get into everyone's hands.

Everyone will worship him.

But, he couldn't without his star player. You. Eddie needed you to help put his new drug into regular citizen's hands. But you just had to move without telling anyone. You just had to be useless and make his life harder.

"Gentle, Eddie. We have to be gentle at first," Eddie whispered to himself.

He wasn't going to take you back without force of course. Eddie knew that he could still manipulate you to do his bidding. All he had to do was say a few sweet words and you would come crawling back to him. It was easy.

Stopping at the edge of a sidewalk, Eddie couldn't help but notice the fancy limo car beside him. He cocked a brow since the back of the mini limo was shaking. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, knowing that someone was having the time of their life.

The windows weren't even tinted that much. When the light turned green, Eddie went to get a glance as the slutty couple. His eyes widen as he swore he saw you moaning as you bounced on some stranger's dick.

"Nah, we're just seeing things now." Eddie whispered, before reaching for his phone, "But...I better get (Y/N)'s address just to be sure."

----------

You moaned loudly as Miguel held your hips down. You were clenching against his dick as your body calmed down from another harsh orgasm. You swore you saw stars as your body finally relaxed. Miguel chuckled, kissing your neck as he slowly started to thrust back into you,

"See? I said I would be gentle," He teased, rubbing your clit in the process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering softly,

"I-I know~ mhm~ B-But...W-What if s-someone...ah~"

"I can always lower the window,"

"N-No~" You cried out as Miguel went faster, "M-Miggy~ I-I w-wanna be able t-to w-walk~"

"You will, baby," Miguel chuckled darkly.

Flinging your head back as you rode Miguel's dick, you moaned as you felt nothing but pleasure. Miguel grunted as he pulled you back in and groaned as he started to get rougher. You gasped and cried as Miguel brought you to another orgasm.

"Miguel~" You cried out.

"Good girl, (Y/N)," Miguel groaned as he unloaded inside of you, "See, still gentle,"

"Mhm," You rested against his chest, calming from your high, "S-Still super e-embarrassing. A-Are you sure...y-your driver d-didn't hear us?" Miguel carefully fixed you back up as the driver looked for parking,

"I'm sure." Miguel smirked, pecking your lips as he trailed your panty line, "Want him to hear us?"

"N-No!" You squeaked, covering your face.

Miguel laughed towards your behavior and helped you out of the car. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you into the restaurant since your legs were still shaking. He glanced down at your flustered cheeks and thought. He needed to casually tell you that it wasn't safe to go back to work.

"(Y/N), what would you think about not working at the supermarket anymore? I can take care of all your needs." He whispered as the waiter greeted them. You glanced up at Miguel,

"B-But...I don't want-" You stopped, knowing that Miguel didn't think of you as a burden, "I-I'll feel like I'm...just using y-you. I-I want to w-work too."

"Then, work for me?" Miguel suggested as they sat at their fancy table, "I could always use an extra hand." He offered. Your eyes sparkled at the suggestion,

"R-Really?" You gasped and thought, "A-As much...as I-I would like a c-change...but...I...I really can't."

"Why not, baby?"

"W-Well...I-I haven't had...a chance to t-tell you...But," You covered your mouth, looking shyly towards Miguel, "M-My parents...o-own the supermarket I work at...W-Which i-is why...s-someone like me can e-even work...t-there."

Miguel's eyes widen as he proceeded this new information. The supermarket that he took care of his mafia business at; the supermarket were he got his goods from; the supermarket that Miguel had great connection with....was owned by your family.

And those same owners told your ex where you went.

"Is that so?" Miguel said with a devilish smirk.

This just made things even easier for Miguel.

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next chapter

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neonovember · 10 months

Note

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in”

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen.

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes.

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were.

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts.

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen. You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad.

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever.

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time.

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story”

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago.

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came.

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string.

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing.

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to.

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out?

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face.

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised.

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again.

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you,

You had to see your golden boy.

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