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#i think about the losers watching stand by me. A LOT
strangesickness · 1 month
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the last three losers left in derry (i headcanon stan and richie to be the last to leave, so stan, richie, and mike) having at this point realized that when you leave derry you forget and they sit down together to watch stand by me because they remember watching it when it came out and thinking it was the greatest but they're seventeen now and all of their friends have forgotten them and richie and stan know that they too will one day forget, and mike knows he will be the only one left who remembers, so suddenly the movie doesn't seem as wonderful as it used to. they wanted to turn it off when gordie started saying "i never had any friends later on like the ones i had when i was twelve" but just stared at the TV long after the credits had rolled instead.
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pangyham · 4 months
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been thinking about the liyue gang and how id draw their physical builds so here are some thoughts i had for xy cy and gm in particular
- xingqiu, unsurprisingly, would be quite lanky. i like to think he has broad-ish shoulders, like a thin athlete's build? hes a long boy to me haha, long face, neck, limbs, fingers etc, so naturally hes stands (comparatively) tall at 5'6" or 5'7"
i like to think hes most physically attractive one and has that handsome princely and boyish charm to him because it adds a lot to his fuckass duality LOL
- chongyun is a lot like xiao imo! short stature but with muscular arms. he seems nimble and flexible because of his normal attack animations (which bears a lot of similarities to xiao's actually! this + the fact that chongyun's normal attacks create gusts of wind further reinforces my hc that xiao trains him). sometimes i watch high energy choreography vids on youtube and some dancers look incredibly light on their feet, almost like their body is inherently bouncy? and i imagine chongyun to have that agility to him. chongyun has a delicate face and aura and i let that bleed into my hcs for his fighting style and physical capabilities hahaha. hes kind of like a cat who's deceptively strong. as for height.. just a few inches taller than xiao, so perceptibly short at 5'4"
- ga ming my new beloved. pretty much similar to chongyun but more muscular and stronger just because he wields his claymore with ease. theres a noticeable weight different between cy and his claymore the way he lugs it up after he swings (or even other claymore users like razor who, on his last hit, bounces from impact). meanwhile ga ming literally slams his to the ground LOL. i love his movements though hes very swift and expressive and radiant.. if cy has delicate movements then ga ming's is fierce and (charmingly!) assertive
ga ming is wonderfully charismatic though, i know hes not well known in liyue harbor yet, but he seems like the type to gain a reputation from his friendliness. how could no one adore him hahaha. 5'5" for height! just between xy and xq
#tangy talks genshin#chongyun gets analyzed most my bad#this was super fun though#while thoughtful ; genshin chara designs will always look distinctly gacha and flashy so a lot of the designs kinda blur together in my hea#this is why i really like looking into their animations particuarly their normal attacks#i think it conveys their personalities really well! it's always something to look forward to when new characters release#i gravitate towards swords polearms and claymores most though because i like the act of swinging and slashing hah. it also requires a lot o#body movement and reflects a lot of irl martial arts fencing and other combat techniques#sword users are always really fun to watch because theyre inherently graceful hahah. i will admit it gets kinda repetitive#i think my favorite NA animation has to be albedo's.. very simple clean and refined. he stands elegantly and puts his arm behind his back o#his 2nd attack which ive been transfixed by since be first came out in 2020 LOL. i love albebo#wow these tags are long as hell#but anyway i actually have more thoughts on xq's physical appearance but its just me rambling about how i think hes funny as fuck#im a proponent of dashingly pretty princely xingqiu not necessarily because i want to bestow upon him desirable traits#but because i think its funny knowing hes just a bit of a loser under all that#hes well known (mr worldwide one might say) and the heir to a prestigious guild and chivalrous talented and prolific#but he writes self insert novels hates carrots had bad handwriting sings really bad#hes just a teenage boy#as always i will 100% have more to say about chongyun but ill save that for another post#ga ming on the other hand.. i dont have anything substantial to say but hes super fun to think about#hes such a likable character#wow these tags are LONG as fuck ill stop now.
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: some nsfw
fem reader
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Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.
You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.
He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.
You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”
You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.
“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.
“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.
His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.
“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”
You were all alone?
He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?
“Pizza’s good.”
You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”
You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.
“Where’s your books?”
You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”
You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.
“Here.”
He raises a brow at you.
“Have you ever even opened them?”
You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”
He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.
“Well, it’s a pretty name.”
You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.
In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.
He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.
He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.
The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.
Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you. 
He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.
You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”
You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.
Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.
“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.
You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”
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BNHA – Shigaraki, Shinso, Bakugou
JJK – Megumi, Nanami, Choso, Yuuta, Geto, Gojo
HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro
CSM – Aki
DS – Zenitzu, Tanjiro
HxH – Feitan, Leorio
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pursuedbyamemoryy · 7 months
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₊˚⊹ your sweet lips on my lips 🧸
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about : first kiss and early mornings w mike <33. title is a hozier lyric from like real people do!!
warnings : a little longer than usual!! 1.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader ( once lol )
author’s note : I WANT TO KISS HIM SO BAD AAAAAUGHHHH. i’m so obsessed w him my brain is him and him only
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your breaths were slow and steady as you slept in an uncomfortable position on mike’s couch. the tv was on low volume in the background, playing reruns of some old sitcom that your parents probably watched as kids. you were tucked under a small throw blanket that was always draped over the back of the couch, and a couple of your limbs were dangling over the edge of the cushions.
you were looking for work and mike had hired you to babysit abby. although with the hours you were at his house, it was more of just making sure abby was asleep and then more often than not, falling asleep yourself. the pay wasn’t great, but you didn’t mind. you really liked abby, and got along with her well. and well… her brother had caught your eye. he was a bit of a loser, sure, but you found him endearing. you admired how hard he worked in order to support his younger sister, it was clear she meant a lot to him. plus he was always kind to you.
while getting to know abby and becoming a more prominent person in her life, you also passingly got to know mike. abby had plenty of stories to tell, and you would often have short conversations with him before or after his shift. she had even let it slip once that mike was interested in you, and may or may not have a crush on you.
“my brother talks about you a lot, you know.” abby said oh so casually as you were helping her get ready for bed one night.
“is that so?” you quirked a brow, suddenly very intrigued at what secrets she might spill. you had harbored feelings towards the man for a while, probably as long as you’d been babysitting abby for. you always thought he would never reciprocate your feelings, and therefore decided to keep quiet about your crush.
“yeah, he says you’re pretty and you make him happy. and he’s glad you get along with me. he likes that” she said, looking up at you as you tucked her blankets around her.
you felt your cheeks grow warm, and a smile broke out on your face. “that’s good to know. he makes me happy as well, both of you do.”
“he also said he wishes he had time to get to know you more. i think he likes you. do you like him too?” abby inquired as she snuggled into the covers.
you thought carefully for a moment before responding. “i do, yeah. and i would definitely like to spend time with him if i’m given the chance. but that’s enough for tonight, it’s already late. sleep well, abby. i’ll be in the other room if you need me.” you press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before standing up and leaving her bedroom for the night.
that very brief conversation with abby stayed on your mind for the following days. when mike came home early the next morning you were more flustered than ever when you spoke to him. since then you had been trying to find a way to make your feelings a little more known, hoping one of you would have the courage to finally confess.
keys jingled and the front doorknob rattled as mike let himself into the house. it was quiet, as it was just past 6am. the only sounds were the faint conversations of the show on the television, and the sound of his own footsteps padding across the floor. he set down his keys and kicked his shoes off before making his way into the living room where he saw you fast asleep. he quietly picked the remote off of the coffee table and turned the tv off.
although he wasn’t quiet enough, and you started to stir. “abby?” you asked tiredly. you blinked up at mike, slowly starting to sit up as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
“nope, it’s me. sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” he replied quietly as he set the remote back on the table. “did everything go alright with abby?”
you sat quietly for a moment, trying to find your thoughts in your sleep hazed brain. “yeah, she ate a good amount of her dinner and then we hung out and watched tv for a while before she went to bed. how was work?” you had pushed away the blanket and now sat upright, looking up at mike. he looked tired, which was to be expected. despite his exhausted features he looked handsome, although this wasn’t a new discovery.
his voice shook you out of your thoughts. “it was boring, but it pays.” he shrugs. “want some coffee?” he leaned his head in the direction of the kitchen.
“coffee sounds good” you smile. he starts to walk toward the kitchen and you follow behind him. damn, his butt looks good in those pants.
“i always feel bad falling asleep, i feel like i should be the one making coffee and breakfast for you.” you noted lightheartedly. you were trying not to gawk at him, which had been proven increasingly difficult after abby told you that he was in fact interested in you.
“i appreciate it, but it’s no big deal, really. i understand it can be a little boring being here all night. i trust you with abby, so if you need to sleep, sleep.” mike replied tiredly. you made a mental note to try and at least make coffee for him before he came home in the future.
once in the kitchen, he started gathering everything he needed to make just enough coffee for the both of you. you leaned against the counter, your back facing the wall. the two of you stood in comfortable, sleepy silence as the coffee brewed.
once the coffee maker had stopped gurgling, signaling the coffee was done, he grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and poured you each a cup. you added the ingredients to make it just the way you liked it before taking a sip, nearly burning your tongue.
you could feel his eyes on you. not in a creepy way, but in admiration. he took a sip of his own coffee, his eyes lingering on your frame. you let your gaze wander back to him, meeting his own. you gave him a smile as you took another sip of your coffee.
"i uh.. would you like to go out with me one day? just us?" he stammered. he averted his gaze to his coffee, swishing the dark liquid inside to distract himself.
you smiled, giggling to yourself. it seems like abby was right about mike's feelings for you, not that you doubted her. you took a moment to collect yourself before responding. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to."
"he looked back up at you with a goofy smile on his face. "okay, cool. does tomorrow night work?"
you nodded, "yeah, that's perfect." you knew abby wouldn't lie to you about how mike felt, but it still made you giddy when he actually showed that he had feelings for you. you glanced over at the little digital clock on the stove. 7:08am. you took one last sip of your coffee, placing it down on the counter. "i should probably go, i have an appointment that i need to get to. you have work tonight, right?"
he looked disappointed, but nodded. "yeah. i'll see you later then?"
you nodded in response, "yeah, of course." you stepped closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.
his cheeks immediately flushed and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he’s had other partners and had been in relationships before, but it had been so long since he was as infatuated with someone as he was with you. you were still close to him, and he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. he paused to make sure you were okay with it, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.
but you didn’t. you leaned in further and pressed your lips to his briefly, somewhat hesitantly. he grabbed your hip, holding you firmly but gently. he kissed you again, this time with more confidence. this kiss was longer, more passionate, and it only increased the feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach.
“took you guys long enough. are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” a small voice comes from the other side of the room. you and mike quickly pulled away from the kiss, much more flustered now that you had been caught by mike’s youthful sister. neither of you had heard her approach, and were startled at her sudden presence.
after recovering from the slight embarrassment, you looked at mike questioningly to see if, and how he would answer abby’s question.
“i sure hope so” he smiles, his attention focused back on you. “it’s up to them though.”
“i’d like that” you smiled back at him.
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murdrdocs · 2 months
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she’s driving me crazy
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description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted
includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance
wc. 6k+
a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.
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Stiles knows he fucked up. 
He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation. 
He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere. 
You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him. 
“What’re you staring at?” 
Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)
Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is. 
Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs. 
“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”
It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes. 
Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips. 
Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?” 
Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow. 
“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.” 
“We are!” 
“Then why do you care so much?” 
Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse. 
Then Scott interrupts. 
“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision. 
It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former. 
He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies. 
When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway. 
“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him. 
Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this. 
“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin. 
The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead. 
Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched. 
He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention. 
He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line. 
You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back. 
“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.  
He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority. 
You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)
He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist. 
“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes. 
In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible. 
“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.” 
You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”
That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret. 
This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.
You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’. 
There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)
Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together. 
You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders. 
“You’re drunk,” he reminds you. 
You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you. 
“I’m not drunk.” 
He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks. 
He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world. 
“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.” 
Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.” 
You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.” 
Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself. 
“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.” 
“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.” 
You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk. 
“Walk in a straight line towards me.” 
You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you. 
It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can. 
Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk. 
Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates. 
You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours. 
Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum. 
The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too. 
It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side. 
The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn. 
While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate. 
Get the fuck out of here. 
Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else. 
“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him. 
The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you. 
The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy. 
If he could just get to his Jeep. 
It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him. 
Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator. 
The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead. 
It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful. 
In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens. 
He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.” 
Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you. 
He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it. 
“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)
Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes. 
The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him. 
As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience. 
Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him. 
“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?” 
Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.” 
You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.” 
As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you. 
“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says. 
He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before. 
It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him. 
Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too. 
You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. 
Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful. 
He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?” 
You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it. 
Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?” 
It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?” 
You shrug again. 
“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two. 
A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod. 
“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once. 
“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life. 
Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost. 
He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you. 
“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?” 
Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself. 
“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband. 
In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him. 
It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you. 
It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization. 
He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time. 
Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you. 
You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former. 
Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?
There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly. 
You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern. 
You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.” 
Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head.  At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.” 
You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable. 
This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again. 
He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly. 
He might do both. One after the other. 
You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric. 
He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin. 
Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly. 
Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed. 
He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.” 
It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly. 
You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead. 
Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over. 
He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this. 
Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’. 
You call his name, low and breathy. 
He hums. 
“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told. 
Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you. 
“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.” 
He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else. 
“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin. 
“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!” 
He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop. 
So he doesn’t. 
Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him. 
“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.” 
The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage. 
It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after. 
The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower. 
But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity. 
You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs. 
Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?” 
You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.” 
Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body. 
“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later. 
Later. Will there be a ‘later’? 
“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?” 
Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later. 
852 notes · View notes
lovelyiida · 5 months
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ミ★ IMAGINE KATSUKI SECRETLY KNOWING HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH | once a year, ua hosts a program where rivaling schools in the area are allowed to stay for a month and experience being at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. And your school just so happened to be selected!
[ask based series, don’t be shy!]
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you and a selected handful of students were allowed to be apart of class 1-A for the time being. It was almost otherworldly once you walked in. Almost as if you were an alien greeting its foreign counterparts.
From your uniform, to the way you styled yourself—you were obviously a different sight never before seen.
Silently walking over to a random desk, you sit down and look ahead. Trying your hardest to grasp the lecture being spoken in a whole other language. You fought through with incoherent hums and shy nods.
Soon the bell rings and everyone (except your group because you literally have no idea what’s going on) jolts from their seats. Groups of students start to surround you.
Looking at each one you try your hardest to respond to them. From think accents and broken sentences—all you could do was politely nod.
“Leave em’ some space, damn it!”
Looking over, you see a random blonde burst in what you believe was anger. The group of students fade away and begin to innocently heckle your classmates instead.
The blonde walks over to you, looking down he begins to study your frame. Eyes leading from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He dryly chuckles before speaking “nice shoes.”
Okay, that you could understand.
“Thanks! Like your belt,” you smile at the blonde before he gave you a nod of approval. “Don’t let those losers get so close, some of them do bite.” He says with a playful smirk.
Standing from your seat you chuckle at his words. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” the class watched as the both of you walked out of the room together, curious as to why Katsuki of all people was talking to you.
“So…what’s your name?” You asked.
“Bakugo Katsuki, but just call me Katsuki” he says, with a nod you held out your hand.
“My name is Y/n L/n, nice to meet you” you say with a warm smile. Katsuki reaches out and shakes your hand.
“Don’t get too used to me, you’re only gonna know me for a month” he deadpanned before retracting his hand back into his pocket. You couldn’t help but to scoff at his words.
“A lot can happen in a month, you never know—the universe could’ve led me to you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
What Katsuki didn’t tell you is that he’s been secretly studying English for years since the entrance exam. Kinda because he’s an All Might nerd and wanted to speak English just like him—but I digress…
Katsuki was almost excited that the program was happening. Since he didn’t know how to test out his skills beforehand. And he was also, kinda excited when he met you. Seeing that he didn’t butcher his words like how Denki did when he tried to ask you for your name.
So yeah, a lot can happen in a month.
Katsuki was down.
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Okay so, I kinda wanna make this into a thing where you guys can come out with your own scenarios and I can write them out for you!! I’ve been day dreaming about this for a long time and I wanna see it come into fruition. So don’t be shy to ask!!!
— lovelyiida ❤︎︎
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TAGLIST:
607 notes · View notes
noosayog · 3 months
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003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine
❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy
❥ wc: 3.4k
❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist
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“Good morning, senpai!” 
Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.” 
“It’s raining hard today, huh?” 
“Oh, yeah. Sure is.” 
“Did you bring an umbrella?” 
“Nah, forgot it.” 
“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!” 
“Good for you.” 
The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?
Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!” 
He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day. 
“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.” 
You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate. 
“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him. 
“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice. 
You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot. 
Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.” 
“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.
Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s. 
A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.” 
“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.” 
“Hey!” the idiot in question protests. 
Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”  
“Morning, Yakkun.” 
“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains. 
“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him. 
“Yep!” 
“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.
In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.
“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks. 
“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!” 
She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”
You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”
“You like him because he’s tall?”
“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”
“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.” 
With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you. 
“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.” 
“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.” 
“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.” 
You wrinkle your nose. 
“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.” 
You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.” 
Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with. 
“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”
“Pass.” 
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” 
– 
“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.
Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down. 
“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.” 
“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out. 
Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.” 
“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!” 
Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic. 
When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom. 
You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today. 
Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright. 
When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through. 
“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation. 
When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?” 
Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-” 
Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?” 
“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.
“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.” 
You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend. 
“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.” 
Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans. 
“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.” 
You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo. 
As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room. 
“All done! Now can I-” 
“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.” 
“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again. 
“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?” 
It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.” 
You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”
“Everyone?” he smirks. 
“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.” 
“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.” 
“Weasel my way- wait just a second-” 
“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.” 
“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back. 
This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force. 
“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.” 
“Great, you can start tomorrow.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten. 
Hook, line, sinker. 
Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class. 
During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof. 
“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.” 
“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.” 
“What? Slander! I’m committed-” 
“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-” 
You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word. 
“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?” 
Kuroo grins. “Coming.” 
In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends. 
Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company. 
One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.
When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate. 
“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you. 
“Yep, I plan to.” 
“And Kuroo?”
You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off. 
Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief. 
Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.” 
“Who?” 
Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home. 
The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.
For Senpai, obviously. 
Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you. 
“What do you think?” you ask. 
“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?” 
“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.” 
“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?” 
“He is not boring!” 
“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?” 
“... yup.” 
“What was that pause?” 
“What pause?” 
She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook. 
– 
“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs. 
“Can you stop elbowing me?” 
“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!” 
“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses. 
Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?” 
“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.” 
He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head. 
When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo. 
He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day. 
He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question. 
At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all. 
As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs. 
What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture. 
Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone. 
He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface. 
Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you. 
The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day. 
Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon. 
“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?” 
“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!” 
Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you. 
In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name. 
Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness. 
All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away. 
Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go. 
He freezes, back still turned away from yours.
It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground. 
“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively. 
How was he going to get himself out of this one? 
So he does what he does best with you. 
Cower. 
He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth. 
“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.” 
You blink at him. “Excuse me?” 
“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-” 
A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water. 
“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”
As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face. 
He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him. 
You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you. 
“Let go!” you thrash. 
But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming. 
“They’re for me?” he asks. 
“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-” 
He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really. 
Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across. 
You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.” 
He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you. 
“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.” 
Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile. 
Instead, you mumble, “die then.” 
565 notes · View notes
90ekz · 3 months
Note
ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘
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✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo
✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love
✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/
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satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.
he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.
“babe.”
“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.
“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.
“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.
he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.
and then you did it.
the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.
“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.
satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…
he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.
you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.
he mostly stops thinking about it after this.
yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.
except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.
“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.
unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.
you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.
your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.
“b-babe,”
“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?
satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?
he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.
“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.
“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.
“breathe, satoru.”
“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.
he was laughing.
you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
and you loved it that way.
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625 notes · View notes
pholla-jm · 21 days
Note
 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫
Hello! Sorry this took awhile! I absolutely loved this idea. I also love good angst as well, and I hope I did a good job with it!
Prom? Prom.
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IMAGINE: PROM? PROM ~ SUKUNA X READER FEAT: YUUJI, NOBARA, MEGUMI GENRE: ANGST/FLUFF. cw: use of the word 'woman'. use of (y/n). sukuna is a bit ooc. This is kinda long. some angst, but fluff at the end! HIGH SCHOOL AU! word count: 2.4k. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Having a crush on your childhood friend is such a taboo topic. But every single time you saw him, you wanted more. It made you want to indulge in that topic more.
However, you had worries. One of his best friends, Uraume. They were so close. A little too close for your own comfort. But it wasn’t your place to say anything. It still didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt whenever you saw Sukuna and Uraume walk in the hallways together. 
You were upset that you weren’t as close to him as you used to be. As kids, Yuuji, Sukuna and you would play every single day. Finding new ways to cause trouble… well Sukuna would find ways to cause trouble and you were happy to follow along. Yuji was the voice of reason, trying to pull you away from danger. 
Yuji could see the longing stare you would give Sukuna. However, he wasn’t the brightest. He had a feeling that you liked Sukuna but it didn’t really click in his head. 
Prom was coming up and you desperately wanted to go with Sukuna. However, you weren’t going to ask him, no. What if he rejects you and sees you as a loser? You can’t have that. So, you hope that he would ask you… but you highly doubt that. 
You watch Sukuna and Uraume walk together to their lunch table, and soon that familiar feeling you get in your stomach hits you. 
“Hey Yuuji,” You say, grabbing his attention. “Hmm?” He hums, mouth full of food. You shake your head at him, “I got a question.” 
“What is it?”
“Do you think that… Sukuna is going to prom?” 
Yuuji quickly swallows the rest of his food and looks over at his brother. 
Sukuna was laughing at whatever Uraume said. Yuji remembers Sukuna saying something about going to prom. 
Yuuji turns back around to face you and nods his head. 
Your stomach drops a little bit, “oh… do you know who he’s going with?”
Yuuji thinks about it, remembering that Uraume and Sukuna were talking about colors and what would look best. “Yeah, Uraume. They were talking about their color schemes the other day.” 
That was it. The disgusting confirmation that you needed. In your subconscious, you knew that they would get together one day. 
Suddenly, your food wasn’t appetizing anymore and you wanted to get away from the crowd. You knew that no one was looking at you, but at that moment it felt like eyes were watching your every move. 
“I have to go..” You mutter standing abruptly. Yuuji’s eyes widened before looking down at your unfinished food. “Are you going to finish that?” You inwardly scoff, “all yours.” You slide the food over and hurriedly walk out of the cafeteria. Unaware of the watching eyes of Sukuna. 
As you walked down the hallways, you could feel the lump in your throat start to grow and all you wanted to do was cry. You didn’t even know why you were so upset. It’s not like you and Sukuna were ever together. 
Though, it still hurt that your crush was now breaking into little pieces. 
You started to wonder why you even hung onto that hope that someday he would like you back. How ridiculous. How could you be so stupid? 
You suck in a deep breath, and harshly wipe at the corner of your eyes. You knew exactly what you needed. Heading straight to your locker, you grab your bag and head out of the school. 
You didn’t really care about skipping the rest of school. Mental health is more important than some economic class anyway. Luckily, you didn’t live too far, only twenty minutes away. So when you entered your empty house, you ran straight to your room. 
Throwing your bag to the corner of your room, you jumped on the bed, hugging one of your many plushies. Little droplets of tears are now pricking your eyes as you keep thinking about Sukuna and Uraume together. You wondered what Sukuna would be like as a boyfriend. Is he the softie type? But hard on the outside? You love that trope. 
You bet he gave the best cuddles too. Cuddles that you would never receive. A strangled sob leaves your lips as you realize that you never even had a chance with Sukuna.
Burying your face into the plushie so that your cries could not be heard, not caring if it blocked your oxygen. 
The worst part? You had to walk through the day like nothing was wrong at all. 
Deciding to skip school tomorrow to get yourself together was the best thing for you to do. 
What’s skipping one day going to do anyway? 
*******
One day turned into two days, and two days turned into a whole week of skipping school. 
Ignoring all the notifications from your phone and the concerned voices of your parents, you stayed holed up in your room. 
A sudden rhythmic knock hits against your bedroom door. You didn’t really recognize the knocks, but you still shouted at them to go away. 
The person didn’t really listen, however. 
The door creaks open and you don’t look to see who it is. 
“Jeez, have you even gotten out of bed today? Or the past day?” 
You shoot up at the familiar voice. Yuuji. 
Wearing normal street clothes instead of the school uniform. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask him. “Well, you’ve missed more than a couple of days. So I brought you some missing work.” He says, slinging the bag off of his shoulder. “Thanks,” you roll your eyes.
“Also, we need to go shopping.” 
“Why?” You were confused. “You don’t have a prom dress, right?” 
Your heart sinks at the words prom. You didn’t really want to go. Because if you did, that means you would have to see Uraume and Sukuna together. And that was the last thing you wanted to see. “I’m not going.” 
“Huh?! Why not?!” “Because I said so!” You pull the duvet back over your head and lay down.
Yuuji, marches right over to the side of your bed. He pulls the blanket back and starts to pull at your arm. 
“Get out of bed!” He says causing you to let out a shriek as your body starts to get closer to the edge of the bed. 
Yuuji’s nose scrunches up, “and shower too! You reek.” 
You let out a gasp, “how rude!” “It’s not rude if it’s the truth.” He says just as you fall off the bed with a loud bang.
You groan at the short pain that ran through your side. You glare up at Yuuji who was just looking down at you in disappointment. 
“This is not very gentlemanly like of you.” You say while getting up. A grin suddenly erupts from his face, “I only act like a gentleman towards ladies,” he eyes you up and down, “and I don’t see a lady here.” 
You gasp, “so sassy today!” You playfully slap at his shoulder. Yuuji fake groans at your hit and cradles his shoulder, “you definitely don’t hit like a lady.” 
“Shut up! I’m going to take a shower now.” 
You walk out of your room. Yuuji now content that he got you up and out of your bed. 
Yuuji sighs as he sits in a chair while he waits for you to get ready.
Just by glancing around your room he could tell that you weren’t feeling the best. Mentally or emotionally that is. He doesn’t want to pry, he knows that you’ll open up to him when you’re ready. 
******
Time ticked by and you soon came out of the bathroom, feeling fresh and brand new. “Alright, I’m ready.” You say with a huge grin. 
“What are we going again?” “Prom shopping. You haven’t got a dress yet.” You sigh, “I already said that I’m not going.” “Why not???” Yuuji drags out, “Come on, it’ll be fun. Megumi and Nobara will be joining us as well.” 
Your ears perked up at hearing your other friend’s name. You always had a fun time with them. 
“Fiiiine, I’ll go.” You say and Yuuji cheers. “Great! Let’s go.” He grabs onto your arm and drags you out of the house. ******
“No, this color wouldn’t look good on you.” Nobara says as she skims through all the prom dresses. 
Megumi and Yuuji sat on the chairs, waiting for the two of you to pick out a dress. 
“Yeah, you’re right. What about this one?” You ask and Nobara eyes you and the dress. “For you?” “No, for you.” 
Nobara grins at your words, “Yeah! I’ll try that one on too.” She grabs the dress, adding it to her pile. “Ooh, this one would look great on you.” She says while pulling out a dark red dress. 
You nod your head at her, and she grins. She suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you towards the dressing room, shoving the dress in your hands. 
“I want to see it on you… like right now!” You giggle at her excitement. “Okay, okay.” 
You eye the dress, already doubting how it would look on you. But you would try it on for Nobara’s sake. 
Pulling on the soft material that immediately clung to your body. You look in the mirror, loving the way that it looked on you, but you kind of felt a little conscious. 
“You have it on yet?” Nobara’s voice pulls you out of your own thoughts. 
“Uh- oh yeah.” You pull the curtain open. Your three friends' eyes widening upon first sight. 
Your cheeks flush at their reactions, “Is it too much? I think-” “I think you look sexy!” Nobara cuts you off. 
You look over at the boys. Megumi’s cheeks were flushed a light pink, “that’s one way to put it… but yeah. You look very nice.” 
Yuuji nods his head with two thumbs up. 
“Yeah! It looks great on you (y/n)!”
You let out a small laugh at your friend's encouragement. “Okay, okay. I’ll wear it to prom.” 
Nobara celebrates and you begin to feel grateful for your friends. You were no longer thinking about your previous heartbreak. 
******
Weeks went by as prom drew closer. It still hurts everyday to see that Sukuna was going with Uraume. But you didn’t want to dwell too much on it. You just wished you could get his stupid face out of your brain. 
It was really hard to do though since you saw him basically everyday. 
Now you were just hoping that school could go by quickly so you wouldn’t see him. 
“Hey, let me walk you home.” 
Your heart lurched as you heard the voice that you desperately didn’t want to hear. 
“Oh, um. It’s fine. Really.” You say turning to face Sukuna. 
Who wasn’t with Uraume, for once, you noted. 
Sukuna scoffs and rolls his eyes, “don’t be stupid.” “Me? Stupid?” “Did I stutter?” 
You click your teeth and turn back around, “do whatever you want.” 
Sukuna could start to feel the irritation grow in his chest. He really didn’t like this attitude that you gave him. “What’s your problem?” He starts walking next to you. 
“Nothing. Did I say there was a problem?” “No, but the way you’re acting suggests it.” 
“Well, in that case. Nope. Nothing’s wrong.” 
Sukuna’s eyebrow twitches and he decides that he isn’t going to put up with this anymore. 
He stops you by grabbing you by your upper arm. “Hey! What are you doing?” “You’re not taking another step until you tell me what’s going on. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. And Yuuji told me that you were going through a depression episode or whatever.” 
Your throat tightens at the mention of your little episode a few weeks back and all the previous feelings came rushing back. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” “Well, that’s too bad.” 
“Ugh! Why do you even care?!” “God, why are you even asking me that? How dense are you?” “No! Just.. just leave me alone.” You finally pull hard enough to pull your arm out of his grasp. 
You couldn’t believe that you were reminded of the feelings you once held, and now here the culprit was, basically insulting you. 
All Sukuna could do was watch you walk angrily away. He lets out a frustrated sigh before walking the opposite direction. 
*******
It was the day before prom, and you had yet decided to not go to prom again. You haven’t got the guts to tell your friends and you honestly had no idea how you were going to do it. 
A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. 
Upon opening it, you see the last person you wanted to see. 
Sukuna. 
He held a small bouquet of red roses. 
You cross your arms, “what are you doing here?” “I know we didn’t leave off on a good note.” 
You gave him a look that basically told him ‘no shit.’ 
“So here, take this.” He shoves the roses towards you and you cautiously take them. 
“Thanks, but do you think you should be giving me these?” Sukuna holds the urge back to snap at you, “why wouldn’t I?” “Well, I don’t think Uraume would be happy if they saw you giving me these.” 
Now Sukuna was even more confused. 
“What are you talking about woman?” 
“Aren’t you together? Since you’re going to prom together and all?”
Sukuna blinks at you a couple of times, like he was processing what he just heard, before he doubled over in laughter. 
He looks back at you, seeing that you weren’t laughing. “Oh, wait. You’re serious.” “Uh, yeah.” 
“No. No. Uraume and I aren’t going together.” “Well why were you and Uraume talking about prom together?” Sukuna purses his lips, “they were helping me with my prom plans.” “And what are those?”
It was silent for a few seconds, like he was gaining the confidence to finally tell you. “To ask you to prom.” He finally replies. 
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Me?” “I said you, right?” 
You sigh at his words and Sukuna momentarily panics. 
“That is, if you still want to go.” “Yes!” You suddenly shout not wanting to let this moment go to waste, “uh. I mean yes. Yes. I would like to go to prom with you.” 
Sukuna grins before pulling you into him by your waist, “good. Because I would’ve really hated it if you said no.” 
Your heart was beating faster at his words, “does this mean that you uh..” You couldn't quite get the words out of your mouth. But Sukuna knew what you were implying. 
“Does this answer your question?” He asks before quickly leaning down to capture your lips. 
It was soft, but quick. Leaving you wanting more. 
“Yeah… I think it does.” You whisper before using your free hand to pull Sukuna down again for another kiss.
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ahszoebns · 11 months
Text
Movie Night. Colby Brock smut
Part Two here
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"Fuck." Colby grunted under his breath, as he shifted impatiently in his seat beside you. Your hand was in his lap, stroking him through his xplr sweatpants under the blanket on top of the both of you. Originally, he had grabbed ahold of your wrist in attempts to stop to you, but his grip was now loosened, guiding your hand at the pace he wanted. His other arm was hung across the back of your chair, his thumb stroking over the smooth skin of your exposed shoulder in encouragement.
Eyeing him up and down, you took his features into photographic memory. The way his head was slightly hung back, eyes closed, bottom lip between his teeth, and how his hand was now just running along the top of yours gently - allowing you free range over him. His sweats and t-shirt, clinging to his muscles in the most spectacular way. The hoodie was off, and placed near you both, allowing you the beautiful sight of him in a tight t-shirt.
Glancing around the room, checking to make sure you two still have your cover, you find everyone's eyes are on the horror movie displayed on the screen.
When a sex scene came on, Colby had leaned over to you and made a snide comment along the lines of, "I bet I can make you scream loser than her, with just my tongue” Once the scene was over, you and Colby were bored out of your minds, and after a few too many drinks, he decided on playing a game of cat and mouse. You agreed, and here you were.
Earlier, Colby had teased you in the shower, ridding his fingers up the back of your naked body, running them all over your body. With the shower on you were able to let quiet moans escape you, and the water was loud enough that no one suspected anything about the “silent” noises being while you were leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. Colby was also very good at being discrete when it came to this game, which is why he almost always won. Before you could cum, he took his fingers off of you and almost immediately after that, turned the water off and left as if nothing happened.
Now, you were finally in a position to get some revenge, and that's exactly what you were doing. You watched as his features changed the more and more excited he got, and when you saw him coming close to cumming, you pulled your hand off of him, forcing him to try and conceal his frustrated groan as cough. He glared over at you, using his free hand to brush his hair back into place. Smiling sweetly at him, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, "don't tease me next time."
Colby raised his eyebrows at you, his face only inches from yours. "Are you threatening me?" He asked, tilting his head to one side. "Maybe." You challenged, shrugging your shoulders.
"Oh," he half-chuckled, "that's a dangerous game, baby. You sure you wanna play?" You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it, before nodding. He shook his head in disbelief, shifting back in his seat, giving his attention to the best man.
For the rest of the long movie, Colby didn't look at you once, nor did he acknowledge your touch when you brushed fingertips with him as he reached for his white claw. The only sign he gave you to let you know that he was still playing, was that damned thumb on your shoulder; rhythmically stroking over it again and again. When the movie finally ended, Colby took you by surprise by abruptly standing to his feet and offering you his hand. You cautiously took it, raising to your feet as he placed his hoodie over your shoulders, and said bye to Jake, Tara, Sam, Corey, Devyn, and Kat.
“Why are you guys leaving so early? the marathon has only started” Sam said while he hugged colby. “Y/n has a lot of work tomorrow so we should get going.” Colby replied and with that you guys left.
You didn't need to question him on what he was doing, or why, or where you were going... you knew. He brought you out here because he needed to feed his hunger, the hunger the two of you shared and had been yearning to be satisfied all night.
Huridly, he searched through his pocket for the keys, and as soon as he unlocked the car and opened the backseat door, he turned to face you. When his eyes met yours, and his mouth popped open slightly, the air between you practically crackled under the intensity of the stare.
Before he could say anything, you cupped his face and pulled him into a feverish kiss. You felt his grin against your lips, as his hand came down and gripped your waist - pulling you flush against his body. In that moment you didn't care if anyone had seen you two leave in a hurry, or if they knew what you were planning on doing, you just wanted him. Somehow, managing to not break the kiss, he guided the two of you into the car, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.
He reaches behind you to shut the car door before his hands fall to your ass, squeezing it roughly; causing you to gasp and allow his tongue access into your mouth. As your tongues explored and caressed the inside of each other’s mouths, one of his hands came up to grip your throat, gently tightening around it before cupping your chin to control the kiss.
You began grinding your hips down onto him, reveling in the feel of his erection against the thin fabric of your shorts. One of his hands on your ass moved up your lower back to the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down; he let go of your chin so both of his hands could simultaneously pull down the straps of your shirt - revealing your breasts to him.
"God, you drive me crazy." He growled against your mouth, roughly biting your bottom lip, pulling it down, before flattening a hand against your chest to push you backwards slightly, giving him enough room to lean over and pull one of your breasts into his mouth. While his lips fixated on one nipple, his free hand reaches up to play with other, coaxing the most glorious sounds out of you. Your hands fist in his hair, running through the dark locks, pulling desperately to urge him on.
"You like when my mouth is on you, don't you baby?" He asks, his words slightly muffled against the skin of your breast. You nod, biting your lip. "Tell me." He demands, his hand stopping as he watches you intently.
"I love when your mouth is on me, you make me feel so good." You groan, as he takes your breast back into his mouth; moaning around it, the vibration causing your eyes to flutter shut. The combination of his mouth and hands on you, paired with the grinding of your hips, brings you to the brink of an orgasm. Just as you begin to feel the build, Colby pulls his hand and mouth off of you, leaving you a whimpering mess. He does this several more times before you finally begin to plea with him, "Colbyyy, don't tease me. Please." You whine.
"I thought you wanted to play?" He questions, arching a brow at you. "I can't, no more please. Just fuck me." You beg. Smirking at you arrogantly, his hands reach for his waistband. "Take your bottoms off." He orders.
Doing as your told, you slide off him and onto the passenger seat, quickly removing your shorts and underwear discarding them on the floor. Once he's pulled his pants off enough to free his erection, he reaches for you, offering you a steady hand.
"Come here." He breathes, pulling you back onto his lap. As you straddle him, he uses one hand to align himself with your enterance, while the other cups your backside. Leaning forward, he kisses you as you slowly sink down onto him, the two of you groaning loudly into each other's mouths.
"Ride me, princess. Please." He pants, his hands falling to your hips. Placing both hands on his shoulders, you begin to slowly lift yourself up and down on top of him - grinding your hips back and forth. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches you steadily lift then sink yourself back onto him. "So sexy." He encourages, one of his hands coming up to brush your hair back from your face.
With that boost of confidence, you pick up your pace, circling your hips each time you come down on him. "Oh." He moans loudly, tilting his head back against the seat, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth. You throw your head back and gasp when his hips snap up to meet yours, hitting you deeper than before and creating a euphoric rhythm.
Sweat builds on your forehead, and the car becomes unbearably hot as you build yourself closer to your orgasm. One of Colby's hands leaves your hip, and moves between the two of you to your clit, circling around it with his thumb. "Cole," you pant, "I'm gonna-" He leans forward and takes your pleas into his mouth, kissing you with passion.
The two heady sensations of him inside you, and his thumb pressing on your clit, sends you over the brink of your orgasm. Your hand reaches out and slams against the window as a spew of profanities fall from your mouth. Colby reaches his own climax as your insides clench around him, and he moans out your name, before his face collapses against your chest.
As the two of yours breathing calms, and your heart beats slow, you remain like this; his head on your chest, one of your hands stroking through his hair, and his arms around you. After what feels like a life time, he kisses your skin and leans back to look at you. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He states in awe.
You can't help but laugh, feeling anything but, "I'm sure I look like a sweaty mess." His hand reaches up and strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, "A beautiful sweaty mess." He clarifies and kisses you sweetly.
"Now, we should probably get back to my apartment ” He sighs, fixing his sweats, as you pull up the straps of your shirt and pull up your pants to cover yourself. "Or," you propose, "we could go to my house and have our own little party. What do you say, you wanna have some fun?"
He tilts his head, grinning at you knowingly. "I do."
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milkteabinniechan · 5 months
Text
please don't go
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Bang Chan x !female reader. Friends to lovers fluff and smut. Chan is your best friend from childhood.
This is for the anon that sent me this wonderful suggestion!! My asks got all fucked up and then I lost your original ask I'm sorry :( I hope you like it!! <3
He was everything. And now he was on top of you. He knew everything about you. And now he was inside of you.
"God you're beautiful." Chan huffed out. His dark hair sticking to his forehead. His arms shiny from the sweat you were both creating. He was the beautiful one. You couldn't stop staring at his face. His brows furrowed together in concentration. His eyes locked into where he was sliding inside of you. Entering you at the most sinful pace. He had one hand wrapped around your thigh, propping you up around his hips, his other hand resting on your stomach so he could feel himself slamming inside of you. You watched him close him eyes as if he was trying to picturing your insides.
He was so intimate. So sensitive. You loved how he took his time with everything he did. You have known his since you both were kids. He went from teasing you about your newest haircut, to grabbing a handful of that hair in is perfect hands. You were leaving for University soon. Something neither of you ever wanted to talk about. He was staying here in your hometown to help with his dad's store. He knew you had to leave, to get away and start something new for yourself. He understood that better than anyone. But the thought of you leaving, driving away with a backseat full of suitcases and memories, was too much for him to take. He knew it would break him. So you didn't talk about it. Until tonight.
The night started like any other. Chan came over with plenty of junk food for your weekly movie night. It was your turn to pick the movie and he would bring the snacks, which usually means lots of sweets and sugar. You even came to calling him sweet tooth now. He disliked the name at first, rolling his eyes every time you spoke it. But he smiled at it now. You knew he liked that he had a name, that you gave him a name that was just for the two of you.
You both claimed your regular spots on the couch, a fair distance from each other but close enough that your hands would accidentally brush if you reached for something. You started the movie "Gremlins" and opened a bag of sour patch kids. Chan reached over to your lap to grab a few for himself. The sudden sensation of his hand inside the bag between your legs sent shivers through your entire body. You were going to miss him so much when you left. And all you could think about was savoring every moment with him while you could. But Chan wasn't talking, he wasn't laughing at the movie, he just sat in silence.
"You okay?" You mumbled with a mouth full of sour candy.
Chan's eyes stayed glued to the TV screen as he answered, "Yeah. Fine."
You rolled your eyes and let out a loud, obnoxious sigh. He should know by now that you know him. You know him inside and out. So you pause the movie and turn your body toward his.
"Let's not do this," you start, "Tell me what's bothering you."
Chan stands up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "Does it matter? You're leaving soon anyway."
You follow close behind him and grab is arm to turn him around. "No! Don't do that! You know why I'm leaving. You know it kills me to leave you."
"Obviously not enough, because you're leaving. Sure we'll call and text at first, but then you'll meet someone, some great guy, and I'll just be the loser you grew up with that never got up the nerve to make a move.." Chan had tears in his eyes. His hands were shaking. He had been holding this is for a while now.
"What do you mean make a mo-" your sentence was cut short but Chan's lips against yours. Both his hands cupped your face as his mouth and yours pushed back and forth into one another. Your height was making it difficult to reach his mouth like you wanted. You pressed up on the tip of your toes in an attempt to gain more leverage. And just like he had read your mind, Chan picked you up and held you around his waist. He chuckled inside your mouth mid-kiss and the feel of you against him. You ran your fingers through his hair and gave it a slight tug so your eyes met for a moment. The two of you had always had a connection. Very little words had to be spoken to understand what the other wanted, but you could see in his eyes he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear your voice say that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.
"I want you." You breathed out.
Chan was maticulous in the way that he touched you. Memorizing every curve and valley of your body. You watched as he kissed your thighs, tracing kisses up to your cunt. He made eye contact with you at the entrance of your core. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath onto you. You spread your legs for him with a smile. "Do you want to see how I taste, sweet tooth?"
Chan nodded his head quickly. His eyes glossy and focused. He was in a trance and all he could see was you. The first sensation you felt was his nose. The contact made your back arch. You rolled your hips slowly into his large nose. You really fucking loved his nose. His tongue was next, giving long laps on your drenched cunt. Laps like a dog, his eyes closed, almost hypnotized look on his perfect face. He was taking his time, using his tongue to spread open your lips and folds. Low moans leaving his lips while he buried himself deeper. Your lips were thrusting faster now, climbing towards your orgasm. Your best friend about to make you come. Your best friend about to see you come undone for him.
"make me come, channie please" you beg.
Chan lets out a desperate growl as he grabs your ass and pulls you close to his hungry mouth. In turn you grab a handful of his hair with both your hands, riding out your orgasm into his face. The ecstasy overwhelming as you lay on the bed spread open and panting. Chan sat up on his knees and waited. He tilted his head. "You okay?"
You lifted your head to meet his gaze. He was so patient. So kind. You just wanted to fuck the shit out of him. He was your best friend and now he was so much more.
warnings: oral (female receiving), slight stomach bulge mention, unprotected sex (use protection!)
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ode2rin · 1 year
Text
it's all me, just don't go
pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader
genre. post-argument, hurt/comfort this time (^o^) | fluff too actually (?)
warnings. swearing, and probably a lil ooc rin .. well he's a bit of a loser here (i like loser men) this is also not proofread basically wrote it on a whim T_T i also listened to "afterglow" by taylor swift while writing hehe so it's a bit inspired to that
note. it's the part 2 of this | i'm supposed to be figuring this whole platform out but instead made a part 2 of the rin fic bec he got me in chokehold istg
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before you could make up your mind, you felt the door knob twisting, startling you. you froze, heart pounding against your chest. as the door swung open, it revealed a distraught rin hastily trying to wear his coat.
your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time.
itoshi rin was not known for being a man of many words, but for you, he rehearsed every possible apology he could think of as he’ll search for you in every street around. he would’ve apologized a hundred times over if it meant you would return home to him. if you’re not ready to come home with him, he’ll leave you alone. he’ll leave the apartment, if it means you’ll stay where he knows you’re safe. he’ll tell you he’ll be good for you. fuck, he’ll be the best for you. he would have changed his ways, toned down his ego, anything to prove his love to you. he’ll tell you anything, just please, for the love of whatever divine forces watching over him, please come home.
he prepared a lot to say, a lot to make up for. he never prepared for a staring contest with you right now. rin’s hands ached to hold you. he wants – needs to fucking hold you so close, feel your warmth and know that you were still his. but every thought and intention he had practiced vanished in the face of your presence, leaving him at a loss for words.
rin saw the hurt in your eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in his chest. he had hurt you, and seeing the pain written so plainly on your face made him ache inside.
but the hurt in you was no longer remnants of the argument you had, it was because of your lover standing in front of you right now.
as rin’s eyes met yours, you noticed that his eyes were slightly red-rimmed and there was a streak of dried tears in his cheeks.  at the realization that rin had been crying, you felt your heart lay down in pieces. you knew how rin’s mind tends to jump into the brinks of overthinking. he must’ve thought you’re never coming back, hence him leaving the apartment and going after you.
the sight of him was far from what the world thought about itoshi rin. this was no egoist. 
no, this was a man, vulnerable and afraid, his heart laid bare for you to see. 
and in that moment, you knew, no longer a shred of doubt clouding your mind, that you definitely seen past beyond his walls.
you wasted no time breaking the suffocating silence that enveloped you both, your voice low and small as you uttered a timid “hi.” you couldn't bear to look into rin's eyes, instead opting to cast your gaze downward as you tried to form coherent sentences. “i'm sorry for leaving,” you managed to say, your words strained with regret. “i just needed some fresh air, and i thought maybe you wanted some time alone. i'm sorry–”
before you could continue, rin's towering frame engulfed you in a tight embrace. you felt his arms wrap around you protectively, and you couldn't help but lean into him. "you have nothing to apologize for, it was on me," rin murmured, his voice soft and laced with guilt. he wondered why the hell were you even apologizing when you had done nothing wrong but love him, despite being a huge asshole.
you were about to reply, but rin beat you to it, his words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i didn't mean any of the shit i told you. i'm sorry i hurt you. i lashed out at you for things you never did, and i took it out on you because i was scared over something so fucking lukewarm." you could hear the sniffling between his words, but you didn't mention it, instead burying your face further into his chest as he held you tighter.
rin's grip on you intensified, as if he was afraid he'd lose you if he let go. he took your silence as a cue to cradle your face in his palms and press your foreheads together, his warm breath fanning across your face.
“i’m sorry. i’ll be good to you, y/n. just please, don’t leave..” me. rin couldn't bring himself to say it, the mere thought of losing you driving him to the brink of madness.
he closed his eyes, unwilling to see your face and see a trace of rejection or any thought of you leaving him. for a moment, it felt like rin couldn't even breathe. the silence between you was again suffocating, and he knew he needed to hear something, anything. "please, y/n. say something," he implored, desperation evident in his tone.
“open your eyes, rinnie” at the sound of his nickname rolling off your lips, he hesitantly opened his eyes to look at you. 
glad he did, because you’re smiling. 
it took one smile. one fucking smile from you, and itoshi rin felt he can breathe again. 
“will you let me let you go?” 
“fuck no.”
you let out a small chuckle at the speed of his answer, all with his familiar snarky voice. you placed your hands in his cheeks and you can see the relief wash over rin's face at the gesture. 
he looks at you as if you're his lifeline, and in this moment, you are.
“you better not. because i’m not going anywhere, rin.” you say, your voice filled with conviction.
“i'm never letting you go,” he whispers, his eyes still locked onto yours.
you both stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your embrace. for the first time in a while, everything feels right.
tomorrow, you know there will be more apologies and a lot of talking. tomorrow, both of you will try harder to be better for each other. and tomorrow, hand in hand, you and rin will face whatever lies ahead.
but tonight, both of you will let your fragile hearts hold on to each other and your frantic minds to be at peace in each other’s arms. tonight, itoshi rin will spend every second convincing himself that you’re his to love and here to stay. tonight, he will love you better.
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straylightdream · 6 months
Text
what am I missing - 3racha
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act eight: “this is going to be fun.”
feat: bang chan x f.reader, seo changbin x f.reader, han jisung x f.reader
↳ in your mid to late twenties you’re left wondering if you missed your sexual awakening. With a the help of friends you start to really find yourself.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: for the story as a whole angst, a little fluff, body image issues, and self doubt, cussing all smut warnings listed below for what is in this story.
series masterlist
𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.
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𝐚𝐧: I’m dying to know what everyone thinks about Jisung and what they think will happen in the future. Thank you @ishz for helping me with this chapter.
𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. Please fill out this form.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nipple play, clit and vaginal fingering, lots of dry humping and some dirty talk. for the story as a whole, oral (fem & male receiving), piv, unprotected sex, groping, threesome, use or traffic light system, choking, and spanking, the mc calls herself a slut more warning to come. Soft but dominant jisung, kinda sub reader for jisung.
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Han Jisung has always been an interesting boy. He’s always been shy until he gets comfortable with someone. It took sharing french fries the first time you met for you to instantly bond. You’ve always been close and Jisung has always been touchy feely with you. It takes very little alcohol for him to flirt with you and to ask you to cuddle. You've shared a few drunken kisses that neither Chan or Changbin know about.
When Jisung asked you to have dinner with him you had a good feeling because he knew what happened with Changbin. Originally you fully planned on going out, but you asked him to stay in and watch a movie and order take out.
The moment he walked through the door things definitely felt different between you but not in a bad way. He seemed slightly nervous just like you were.
You sat next to each other eating the Italian food Jisung had ordered. You’re sitting so close that your thighs are touching. You know what the night can hold and you’re dying to know what it’s like to be with Jisung.
He stands up and takes both empty plates to the kitchen. Your eyes are trained on him as he walks back.
Walking back into the living area he stares at you and gives you a gentle smile. “Did you want to watch a movie or play video games?”
“Did you want to play MarioKart?” You know that Jisung hated losing and this would give you a chance to tease and flirt with him.
“Are you trying to lose on our date?” He laughs. It felt refreshing to hear him refer to tonight as a date.
“Last time I checked you lost when we played last time.”
He walks over to the TV and sets up the switch. Walking back over and hands you the remote.
Many nights you have spent drinking and playing MarioKart with the boys. Jisung is the only boy you struggle to beat when you play.
You start the first game and you can’t help but poke fun at Jisung as you’re beating him. You absolutely love the idea of riling him up. In your last game of the Mushroom cup you’re beating him. As you toss back a red shell you can’t help but yell as you pass the finish line winning.
“I told you you suck,” you laugh poking his side.
His eyes narrow on you before grabbing your wrist. You stare at him for a moment before he pushes you back flat against the couch. He wastes no time tickling your soft side. “So I suck now?” He grins.
“You lost so yes?” You giggle.
“You won’t be saying I suck when I and make you scream,” he stops tickling you and the look on his face turns you on.
“Are you a sore loser?” You’re playing with fire and you want to get burned.
Without saying a word he straddles your hips and reaches forward, pinning your wrist above your head. The tension in the room feels thick as you both just stare at each other. You’ve never seen this side of Jisung and you’re dying to unlock different layers to his dominant side.
"So..since 3 out of the 4 people know the situation already, I might as well acknowledge it?" He finally speaks.
"Umm…” you aren’t sure why but suddenly you feel embarrassed. You had been acting so confident and now with Jisung pinning you down you feel shy. Maybe it’s because you’ve never had anyone treat you like this.
"How do you like it?” He grins.
"What?”
"How was it with them?” He leans in closer to you.
"Ji..'' he’s looking at you like he’s ready to devour you. This look in his eyes is enough to make you wet. You’re quickly realizing all his sex stories he’s told might be very true.
"Yeah?”
"Does it make me a bad person that I want to kiss you right now?” You change the subject. You don’t want to talk about Chan and Changbin. Specifically you don’t want to bring up what Chan is like in bed. He’s clearly a very private person about his sex life and it isn’t your place to say what happened. That moment on this same couch you shared with Chan is something that is only between you.
"Bad? absolutely not, in fact the feeling is mutual and you know it," he leans forward holding your hands above your head with one hand while his hand gently rests on your throat. His thumb gently drags across the delicate skin.
“Jisung what is going to happen tonight?”
“What do you want to happen?”
“I want to know what it’s like to have sex with you?”
He leans closer and your lips brush for a mere moment. “I’m going to make you beg for me.”
“Ji..”
“Yes baby?”
You know right now you can’t be shy, you need to play along with him if you want to know what it’s like to be with him. Tonight you need to be confident. You know if he didn’t want you, he wouldn't have asked you out.
His hand tightens around your neck. You’ve never been choked before and you suddenly feel light headed as he stares down at you. You feel slightly dizzy and for some reason that is turning you on even more.
“Does pretty like it when I choke her?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
He leans forward pressing his lips against yours for another heated kiss. His tongue glides across your bottom lip requesting you to open your mouth. He kisses you like he’s trying to get you naked. He pulls away tugging on your bottom lip.
“Please,” you whimper.
“Please? You need to use your words baby. I’m not going to give you anything unless you ask for it.”
“Please fuck me.”
Without another word he leans down, crashing his lips into yours. His lips are searing against yours. His hand never leaves your throat. He fluctuates applying pressure. It didn't take long before you moaned softly against his lips.
“This is going to be fun,” he smiles, pulling away from your lips.
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an: sorry I left you guys on a spicy cliffhanger… don’t worry the next part will come out soon.
Regarding my taglist: I’m tagging so many people like 300+ people and the the amount of reblogs and interactions I’m getting compared to my taglist make me quite sad. I kindly ask if you request to be tagged that you interact with my writing. It takes me a really long time to make sure I tag everyone. Im going to start removing silent readers and blank blogs to make tagging easier. If you want to on a taglist the form is still open. Im just really asking for interaction if I’m spending the time to tag you.
Thank you to anyone who has been replaying to the post and reblogging them.
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ashwhowrites · 3 months
Note
What about an Older! Mechanic! Eddie x Reader who's the daughter of Eddie's best friend, (Steve, Gareth? Idk) but in the beginning they hated each other, like they didn't have anything in common, but after a night when reader was kinda drunk she just found Eddie and he helped her getting to her house, and reader says something like you're cute, but you're an asshole and some days after Eddie's still thinking about it, they end up finding each other again at some shop in the town, and they decide to get something to drink and they end up finding out that maybe, they really don't hate each other, and start flirting a lot! Eventually they became a couple and Reader's dad is like I knew you liked Eddie, but he's not mad bc his daughter's an adult
I love older! eddieeeeeeee. I always picture him with a beard and it's so hard not to constantly write about that detail of him. But I never know if Eddie girls, guys, and thems also like Eddie with a beard? Well anyway, I wrote this fic and loved it, then realized I slowly slipped away from some details of the plot you included. So I truly hope this fic is okay and you still absolutely love it. I hope it's what you wanted, even though some of it was changed. I just really liked the scenes I wrote and didn't have the heart to delete it. It felt too good to me. As always, thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Cute, but an asshole
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Y/N couldn't stand when Eddie came over. She understood he was her dad's best friend, but he was rude, a single loser who slept around town and everyone was obsessed with him. Sure, he was attractive and charming, but she couldn't handle all her friends hoping he'd stop by.
Her friends loved it when Eddie was around. He'd sit and flirt with all of them, they'd flirt back and Y/N was left watching. Maybe there was a small hint of jealousy she felt, knowing her friends caught his eye but she hadn't.
Eddie did notice her, he noticed her in ways he never should have. Gareth moved away after high school, got married, and had a kid. Twenty-three years later, he came back and Eddie met Y/N. And he knew he was in big trouble when he noticed how gorgeous she was. The easiest way for him to keep a distance from her was to simply ignore her existence. He knew it worked when she began to glare and snarl whenever he was in the room. Then she started getting mean back and her smart mouth pissed off Eddie in many ways.
Then she got a boyfriend and Eddie swore he'd never been so jealous in his life.
"So, Randy what do you go to school for?" Gareth asked, slowly twirling his pasta as the table sat in silence. Y/N smiled towards Randy as encouragement, and he happily answered. The two stuck in a conversation as Eddie rolled his eyes.
Y/N noticed his rude behavior all night. Whenever Randy talked, he'd mock him, discredit him, and belittle him.
Randy kissed her goodbye at the door, her smile quick to come off when she turned to march towards Eddie. He sat at the table with a smirk and drank his beer. Gareth in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, unaware of the heated tension in the dining room.
"What the fuck is your problem?" She snapped, her foot coming forward and kicking him in the shin.
He bit his lip as he groaned in pain. "You can't seriously like that guy." Eddie said, trying to hold back a laugh. "he's a total square."
"I do like him! And there's nothing wrong with being well-mannered." She sassed, her eyes giving Eddie a look over. A look to tell him that he was the exact opposite.
But Eddie was older, and he knew exactly how those young guys wound up. "trust me, honey. Those guys stick around to get in your pants, then he's on to the new thing. He's a rich spoiled kid, he'll get rid of you once you aren't a shiny pretty thing anymore." Eddie said, standing up as he mockingly patted her head.
She swore steam was coming out of her ears. She smacked his hand away and marched off to her room.
What did he know, he was in his late forties and single. He knew nothing about relationships.
~~~
But when Y/N walked into a bar on what was supposed to be a romantic night, she thought Eddie deserved more credit for his wisdom.
Tonight was meant to celebrate her and Randy's five-month anniversary, but he never showed. She felt like an idiot for liking the guy. Sure, she knew she didn't love him, but she liked him and he was a good distraction. In ways, he made her feel confident, beautiful, and special. Which was all taken away within hours. She called and called, no answer on his end as she sat at the restaurant.
She didn't want to believe Eddie was right, but he was. Y/N knew the second she finally had sex with Randy that she'd regret it. And here she was, not even two days later being ghosted. Instead of moping at the restaurant, she went where everyone drank away their problems.
That's when Eddie found her, completely drunk and flirting with the bartender.
Eddie was a regular at the bar, he didn't have much going on in his life and enjoyed the social drinking. But he didn't expect to see his best friend's daughter completely wasted and batting her eyelashes at the bartender. He gave in, of course, and Eddie couldn't judge him for it. If Y/N looked at him like that, he'd be a puddle at her feet.
"Alright, sweetheart. Think you've had enough." Eddie said as the bartender slid her another glass. She pouted and whined as Eddie slid the drink back over.
"Don't think so. Hand it over, Bobby." She slurred but Eddie interfered again.
"Stop! You're not like my dad or boyfriend. So fuck off." She spat, successfully getting the drink as she chugged it down.
"I'll fuck off after I get you home, safely." He said in a stern tone. Cash was slammed on the table and he was fast to grab her hand and began to pull her off the stool. When the room started to spin, she lowered her guard and let him take her home.
The car ride was dead silent, the air was uncomfortable and she wasn't sure if she needed to puke.
"I need air." She managed to get out as she gagged. Eddie was quick to pull over, helping her unbuckle her belt and then getting out of the car. She was surprised by how gentle and caring he was. The way he helped her out of the car and sat next to her on the curb.
The fresh air called her stomach and she took deep breaths. She knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be an ass to deal with.
"What are you helping me?" She asked, her eyes closed as she concentrated on not puking.
"Because I'm not a terrible person." Eddie shrugged. His eyes were on her, taking the chance to admire her up close. He never allowed himself this close to her. And even if she reeked of a run-down bar, he wanted to be closer.
"Ha, funny." She faked and laughed. "You are the biggest asshole I've ever met. Well until Randy anyway."
Eddie let the name-calling slide as he focused on the second part. "what did he do?"
"Not like you care. You'd probably get to tell me I told you so and rub it in my face that I'm some stupid young girl who doesn't know anything." She scoffed, her eyes open just to glare at him. She wanted to glare the soft look in his eyes away. Why was he looking at her like that? Did he always smell this good? Finally being face to face, inches away, she instantly knew why girls never looked away.
"I do care about you. And you're not dumb, he's dumb. You are young, but that doesn't mean you don't know anything. Talk to me." He said, his hand softly resting on her knee. She tried to ignore the way it made her heart flutter.
If she was sober, she probably wouldn't have given in. But she was drunk and the words rolled off her tongue.
"We had sex, and he disappeared on me. I mean you were right," she said as she turned her head to fully face him. The pain was easy to tell in her eyes as Eddie felt his stomach drop. "I'm not a pretty shiny thing anymore. He got what he wanted and that's all I was good for." Tears filled her eyes as she looked away. She felt embarrassed to admit to Eddie he was right.
Eddie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her body into his. Her head was in his neck as she softly cried.
"I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Yeah, he's a dick and I knew that. But I'm sorry for ever making you think you are just a shiny thing for boys. You are beautiful, so smart, and incredibly sexy. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You are worth so much more than sex. Don't let that idiot make you think differently." Eddie said into her hair, his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her arm.
"If I'm all those things, why do you hate me so much?" She asked, keeping herself hidden in his neck.
"I don't hate you."
"Yes you do," she scoffed, pushing herself away from him. But his arm still lingered on her shoulder. She wiped away her tears, "You always ignore me, you never notice me! But you notice all of my friends and spend all your time flirting with them. So there's something you don't like about me" She rolled her eyes as she finished speaking.
"You're right," he sighed, Y/N tried to hold back more tears, "there's something I don't like about you." His hand reached down to her chin and moved her head to look back at him. Her wet eyes looked into his. "I hate more than anything that you are my best friend's daughter and that it's completely inappropriate to feel the things I feel for you."
Y/N wasn't sure what to say, her eyes stuck on him as she listened to his words. She didn't want to admit anything unless her sober self did it first.
"You're much cuter when you're not being an asshole." Y/N laughed, trying to ease how tense their conversation became. But the confession made her heart swell.
"Let's get you home, kid." He laughed, standing up and taking her hand.
~~~
It's been a week since that night and Eddie found himself too nervous to see Gareth or Y/N. He confessed all his thoughts to a drunk Y/N, who probably didn't remember the night.
He felt guilty for ignoring her for his benefit. He didn't connect the ways that she could have felt hurt and it made sense why she built that wall with him. But now he wanted her to break it down, and he wanted her. He wanted to make her feel special and worthy.
But he knew he caused some wounds and the hurt lingered on her and it wasn't his place to rush her healing.
Eddie was lost in his thoughts as he stared ahead at the cereal aisle.
"Thinking hard, huh?" He heard a voice come from behind him. He jumped out of his thoughts and turned around. Y/N stood there with a cart and a smile on her face.
"Hi, stranger. How have you been?" Eddie asked, he hated how nervous he felt but she looked happy and she spoke to him, so that had to mean something good.
"I've been good. Things with Randy are done for good." She said, Eddie nodded. That means she remembered that night. "and I wanted to thank you for helping me get home that night."
"It wasn't a big deal. I'm happy to help."
"Well I need to go, dad has me on a time limit." She laughed, Eddie smiled but felt a little bummed their talk had to be cut so short. She began to walk past him, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"Oh Eddie," she said, he turned to look back at her. "I have inappropriate feelings for you too." She sent a wink and walked off. But Eddie was frozen in the aisle with a smile on his face and a flutter in his stomach.
~~~
A few days later, Eddie was pulling up to Gareth's house. A case of beer in his hands as he knocked on the door.
And to his delight, Y/N opened the door. She was in sweatpants and a tank top, a night in.
"I'm sorry, my dad got called into work. But you are welcome to come in!" Y/N said, stepping aside as Eddie walked in.
"Beer?" He asked, holding up the case.
~
Half the case was gone as they settled on the couch and talked all night. It turned out they had more in common than they believed. They had a similar taste in movies and music. Same opinions on food and people in town.
The more they talked, the closer their bodies got.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Y/N whispered, her face inches away from Eddie's.
"Oh absolutely, darling." Eddie laughed, moving his face closer to hers. Practically nose to nose.
"I've always thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do. You have this strong jaw, aged eyes, and major sex appeal. I can't tell you how many friends I stopped talking to after you flirted with them because I was so jealous." She explained a confession she was sober enough to make.
Eddie fought off the huge blush he felt on his cheeks.
"That jealous? That's so hot." Eddie whispered, a dark look over his eyes. "Want to make them jealous?" His lips were inches from hers as he cupped her jaw.
Y/N knew what he was hinting at and god did she want it.
"Definitely," she smiled, his lips pressed against hers as he devoured her. The kiss was heavy and hot. Set her body on fire and made her see stars. Eddie moaned in the back of his throat as she climbed on his lap. Her hands ran down his toned back.
He couldn't control himself, his hands worked down her body and landed on her thighs. He gave them a quick squeeze before he moved them to her ass. She moaned as his hands squeezed her ass, her hands moved to under his shirt, her fingernails scratching his chest and feeling his chest hair.
Their moans and groans filled the empty house as their tongues battled and tasted each other.
~~~
After their heavy moment together, the flirty looks and comments couldn't stop. Whenever Eddie was over to see Gareth, Y/N couldn't help herself. Whenever her dad left the room, her lips and hands were on Eddie in seconds. That not he complained, kissing her was his favorite thing in the world.
It didn't take long for them to start going on dates and becoming a couple. Gareth knew Y/N was dating and had a boyfriend, he just wasn't sure who it was. He had a feeling it could have been Eddie, he knew his daughter and she was easy to see through. Eddie had a better poker face so that's where Gareth was stuck.
Y/N could have been dating a different guy but had a massive crush on Eddie. But it wasn't his place to force answers, he'd wait until she was ready to tell him.
~
Y/N was waiting by the door, Eddie was on his way to pick her up for their date. Gareth respected her privacy and didn't sneak to see who's been picking her up.
"Hey, kid. I got to tell you something." Gareth said, Y/N walked over to the opening of the living room where he sat on the couch.
"What's up?" She asked her eyes on the clock.
"I know you have a thing for Eddie," Y/N froze in her spot and her eyes went wide. She went to deny but her dad kept on taking it. "And I just wanted to tell you before you got your hopes up. But he's dating someone. He's never been serious with anyone before but this girl he's locked into."
Gareth watched as a tiny smile that was quick to appear was also quick to disappear from her face. But she didn't look upset, and that's how Gareth felt like he already knew.
"And you aren't upset at all," Gareth said with a smirk. "I thought you'd be crushed."
"Oh well, you know. Just a crush." She said as she tried to brush it off.
"Y/N, I know the girl is you," Gareth said, taking a sip of his beer as she stood shocked. "I have a feeling why you both tried to hide it, not very well might I add. If you wanted it a secret, maybe don't let him feel you up in the hallway. But I want you to know, you are both adults, and I just want you to be happy."
Y/N blushed embarrassed at the thought of her dad watching her boyfriend feel her up. But she felt happier than ever to know her dad accepted Eddie.
"Thank you, dad." She said, she walked over and leaned down to hug him.
"I'll still kick his ass if needed."
Y/N laughed and bid her goodbye. A bright smile on her face as she walked out and met Eddie halfway.
"What's with the big grin?" Eddie asked
"My dad knows," before she could finish her sentence, Eddie was already running to his car and starting the engine.
He may have been older, but he still reacted like a child sometimes. But hey, she wouldn't want it any other way.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 8 months
Note
Travis 🥰 a rainy night in leads to a game night that becomes competitive and ends up 🤤🫠🤭😍
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Warnings: suggestive content but no actual smut
It wasn’t initially in your plans to spend date night stuck in your apartment with Travis, but you definitely weren't going to ruin a perfectly good outfit in the rain, so you both decided to order some pizza, crack open a couple of beers and a bottle and wine, and play some board games that were collecting dust in your hall closet.
"I win!" You cheered out, placing your last token into the slot, effectively giving you four in a row in the game of Connect Four. Travis scowled, sucking his teeth at you. You had beaten him the last three out of four games, and it was starting to wound his ego.
"It doesn't matter anyway. This game is rigged." You furrowed your brow, looking at Travis over your wine glass. "How, Mr. Sore Loser?"
"I let you win every time because you're so damn cute." Travis smirked, swallowing the last sips of his beer. "You know compliments don't make you any less of a loser, right?" You chuckled, standing up to go to the kitchen.
"Can I get you another beer, baby?" You turned on your heels, waiving the empty can at him. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks babe." Travis stroked his beard, examining the game board to see where he went wrong.
"Trying to see where else I could have beat you? Right here." You drug your finger down the diagonal, where you were one token away from winning a different way. Travis rolled his eyes as you giggled, handing him a new open can of his favorite beer.
You plopped down in your seat, the wine in your glass sloshing around. You had more than a couple of glass tonight, easily getting carried away under the guise of a competitive spirit. Travis glanced up at you, dropping your gaze when he noticed you smiling at him.
"What?" You tried to hide your blush behind your wine glass.
"I wasn't kidding about the cute thing." Travis admitted, feeling very bold with some alcohol coursing through his veins. Your relationship was still new, fresh, and very passionate. The kind of love where you can barely keep your hands off of one another. You were hoping the physical barrier of a dining room table would keep you calm, but you were starting to get antsy at the thought of Travis' hands roaming your body. You weren't going to be the one to initiate it, but wouldn't object to him fireman carrying you into the bedroom.
"What should we do now?" Travis asked, running his hand over his buzzcut head, not knowing you already had a plan.
"I was thinking maybe a little poker." You pulled the deck of cards out of the box, shuffling the cards in your hands.
"Oh, you do know you're about to lose, right?" Travis chuckled, sitting up in his seat, cracking his knuckles. "I can bluff like nobody's business."
"We'll see, I guess." You shrugged, not falling for his macho bravado.
"Wait, you wanna make it interesting? Put some money down." Travis pulled out his wallet, throwing a couple hundreds onto the table.
"Save your money, Mr. Kelce. I had something else in mind." You stood up, pulling your sweater over your head, the silk camisole you had underneath clinging to your skin. You could just see a peek of lace from your bra delicately laying against your breast. Travis gulped, wanting nothing more than to place kisses against your collar bone.
You threw your sweater to the side, sitting back down. "As a show of good faith." Travis chuckled, nervously watching you deal the cards. "Let's do it then."
The first hand resulted in your having to remove your tank top, goosebumps raising on your skin as you sat in your bra and jeans. "Wow, this is gonna be a lot of fun more me, and really gonna suck for you." Travis said in jest, downing the rest of his beer.
"Just shut up and deal the cards." Sure you had lost that first hand, but you had learned a couple of things as well. Travis' had a tell, whenever he had a good hand, he would pinch the bridge of his nose, whenever he had a bad hand, he would scratch his neck. Travis might have been luckier if you weren't obsessed with looking at him, and had memorized his mannerisms over the last couple of months of dating. His tells stood out like a sore thumb.
You won the next couple hands, Travis exposing his tells each time, forcing him to shed a new piece of clothing. About an hour had past and you had him in his boxers, shivering while you were still in your jeans. Travis rubbed up and down his arms, trying to warm himself up. "Why do you keep it so fuckin' cold in here?" He asked, annoyed he had lost so many times.
"What? I run hot, and if I wasn't so much better than you at poker, you wouldn't have this problem right now." You gave him a cocky smirk. "Two pair." You put down your cards, showing that once again, you had one.
"What the actual fuck?!?!" Travis jumped up from the table in disbelief, gesturing wildly. "How are you winning so many games?"
"My first job was waitressing at a poker bar. The owner taught me everything I know." You were beaming, relishing in the feeling that you were going to get what you wanted tonight, and it was oh so easy. "Now strip, loser."
"Do you really want my bare ass on your dining room chair?"
"Wait, I didn't think about that." You giggled, standing up. You sauntered over to Travis, your hands finding his waist, toying with the waistband of his boxers. "What does the winner get?" You whispered, placing a quick kiss on his lips. Travis picked you up in his arms with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Dealer's choice."
"You know that's not what that means, right?" Travis put you down, pushing past you toward the bedroom.
"You just had to ruin the moment didn't you?" Travis dropped his boxers to the ground in the doorway, so you got a cute peek of his butt before he rounded the corner.
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littlxpxtal · 1 month
Text
I Can See You
TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.7K
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'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?
December
I zipped up my coat before opening my car door, stepping down onto the ground, and scanning the parking lot for a familiar face. It was the first day back at school after Thanksgiving break, it was starting to get chilly in the Outer Banks. I felt a cold breeze against my legs. Even though the temperature was dropping, school uniforms were mandatory, which meant forcing girls to wear skirts for the rest of winter. 
First and Second periods go by painstakingly slow, but at least I had Sabrina to pass notes with as time dragged on
How was break? We missed you on blackout wednesday :(
My family takes holidays wayyyy too seriously. I was up late prepping the turkey with my mom and then up early to set the table. My family watches the parade like a bunch of losers
When I pass her back the notes she giggles and gives me a thumbs down.
Kelce was asking where you were
I make a face when I read her note
Why would he be asking about me lmao
I told you their friend group thinks you’re dope as hell. And we’re always together so I guess he assumed you’d come with me
Sorry I couldn’t make it. Was it fun?
I blacked out and called Derek :(
I frowned at her in response
Need details at lunch. Meet me at my car!
She gives me a thumbs up this time and slides the piece of paper between her books as our teacher starts to stroll down the aisle, making sure everyone is taking notes on the assigned reading.
The bell rings and I drag my feet to third period, holding my breath as I walk through the doorway, mentally preparing for the agony I was about to endure for the next 90 minutes.
I take my usual seat on the right side of the room in the third row, right next to the window, and diagonally behind from Rafe at an angle where I can see him, but he can’t see me. He sat ontop of his desk, his blazer hanging over his shoulder as he leaned forward, whispering something into Carissa Whitlock’s ear that makes her giggle and blush. I swallow hard before reaching into my book bag to get my textbook out with our holiday homework placed neatly ontop. 
Our teacher walks in, clearing his throat to let us know class was about to start. I watch as Rafe stands up, and brushes Carissa’s hair behind her ear. He swings his blazer around and onto his arms, turning his body to face me. He catches my stare and winks, licking his lips. I blankly stare at him, giving him no reaction to whatever the fuck that just was. 
When Rafe takes notes, he juts his tongue out slightly and chews on the inside of his cheek. His leg shakes up and down the entire period, and he adjusts in his seat about every 5 minutes, checks his phone about every other minute, and never has his book open to the right page. 
I catch myself watching him more than our teacher, because everything he does is too damn dsitracting. I can practically hear his eyes roll to the back of his head everytime the teacher scratches a piece of chalk on the board, and fumble with the video on the projector, leaving the mouse in the middle of the screen. 
He can never figure out how to expand the video to full screen, someone always has to go up and help him. Today, Rafe decided it would be him to volunteer during the technical difficultles. He saunters up the row to the front of the room, taking over the laptop and stays at the front of the class while the video plays.
A smirk displays across his face when I finally make eye contact with him. His back is pressed against the board, his chin slightly tilted up. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and chuckles to himself. I force my eyes back to the screen but I have a hard time concentrating as I remember what it was like for his tongue to be pressed against the inside of my thighs.
I cross my legs underneath my desk, and flash my eyes back to Rafe, catching him watching me again. His eyes linger down under my desk, softly raising an eyebrow as I squeeze my legs tightly together. He stands up straight and directs his eyes elsewhere. I turn my attention back to the video and furiously scribble notes, trying to catch up with everything that I had just missed.
Before the video ends, the bell rings dismissing us for lunch. I scramble to get everything into my bag, trying to get out of class as quick as possible to meet Sabrina at my car. 
The book I was currently reading slips from my grasp and lands on the ground. Before I can bend over to reach it, Rafe is infront of me picking it up. His hand softly travels up my thigh as he stands up, brushing away when he reaches the hem of my skirt
“Dropped this” he says, handing me my book, with a taunting look in his eyes.
“Thanks” I murmur, shoving it into my backpack, zipping it up and brushing past him out the door.
I feel my cheeks burning and I walk swiftly out the front doors to the parking lot, catching Sabrina already waiting at my car.
“Woah why’s your face all red?” she asks when I finally reach her.
“They had the heat on full blast in class it was a sauna” I lied, unlocking my car.
Sabrina spent the entire lunch period telling me the details of the Wednesday before thanksgiving. It was a kook tradition to throw a rager for blackout Wednesday, and it seems as though the seniors went all out this year. Sabrina explained that she was on the verge of blacking out by 9pm, and had to be force fed water by our group of friends. She tried to trick everyone that she was going to the bathroom but was found on the side of the road trying to get to his house. By the time she got home she had called Derek at least 10 times and texted him multiple paragraphs.
“He wasn’t even in the Outer Banks, he went on the mainland to his grandparents” she said, face in her hands.
“God Sab, this sounds awful.” she sighs and finally peaks up from her hands.
“See this is why I need you by my side at all times.”
I laughed and grabbed her hands away from her face.
“Yea I would’ve thrown your phone into the ocean before I even let you unblock him.”
She gives me a weak smile before the bell rings, disrupting our story time.
The rest of the day drags on, classes filled with the last sections of the semester, passing out study packets for final exams. By the end of the day I had 5 packets and a sample essay to work on in preparation. After the final bell rang I sat on the lawn in the central quad, opening my calendar to sketch out a study timeline for myself to get everything done by Friday. After figuring out a solid plan I pulled out my book and began reading, enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze. 
A few pages in I heard footsteps crunching on the grass towards me.
“Aren’t ya cold?” the voice asks. I look up to see Noah, wearing his varsity jacket and a beanie on his head, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“I don’t mind it.” I said plainly, turning my head back to my book.
“Do you need a ride or something?” he asks, taking another step closer.
“No I drove. I just like sitting out here sometimes after everyone leaves. It’s a lot more pleasant when someone isn’t playing music obnoxiously loud from a speaker.” He snorts at my response.
“Thats understandable. Whatcha reading?” he asks, now taking a seat on the grass infront of me plopping his bookbag next to him.
“The Secret History.” I say, placing my bookmark on the page I left off, and closing the book “Do you like to read?”
“Kinda. Mainly history books though.” he says, playing with the grass beneath him.
“Maybe we can recommend each other books. I’ve always wanted to get more into history” I say with a soft smile. He returns a smile back to me and gets out his phone.
“Give me your number, I’ll text you my favorites.” he passes me his unlocked phone and I type in my number, saving it with my first name. 
“Didn’t see you out last wednesday.” he says as I pass the phone back.
“Family was in town.” he nods his head in response. 
“Did Sabrina tell you we found her on the side of the road?” I sigh and shake my head.
“I feel so bad, she just seems so lost recently. I wish she would get over him.” he lightly chuckles and shakes his head.
“Don’t know about that one. They’ve been doing this back-and-forth thing for like two years now. He loves playing games with her, its gross.” he says with a frustrated tone.
I look up and see dark clouds have now covered the sun, and a whisk of wind blows past us.
“I should probably get home.” I say, grabbing my things and standing up.
“I can walk you to your car, you in the main lot?” he asks, starting to stand. I shake my head yes in response and we walk in silence towards the front. We make it to my car and he awkwardly stands to the side as I open the back door to toss my bag in.
“Well I’ll text you those book recs later.”
“Great, I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Get home safe.” he says before turning around.
I open the door to my car and notice the group of guys in the back lot - specifically a tall blonde. We make eye contact for a second and I hop into my car. I glance at Rafe again as I turn the ignition on and he has a stern look on his face. He was never one to greet me with smiles, but he looked angry. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a long week of studying, I took friday afternoon to pamper myself. Starting with a treat from the local bakery on my way home, I took an everything shower and got into bed by 7pm ready to binge watch Game of Thrones until I feel asleep. Halfway through the first episode my phone buzzed
Sabrina
Wyd tonight
Binge watching GOT
Isn't this like your fourth time watching that shit
Hehe maybe
I have some wine, can I come over?
Hmmm what kind
2 bottles of sweet red
wow im wet
lol ur a freak. I’ll be there in 20
I like her text and walk upstairs, finding my mom on the couch
“Are you already ready for bed?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and tiliting down her reading glasses.
“I was but I think Sabrina’s gonna come over if thats okay.” I say, rummaging through the pantry for any snacks. 
“That’s fine. Your dad and I have dinner plans on the mainland with your sister. Lucy is going to come with us.” she says, going back to her book.
“Wow thanks for the invite,” I huff, grabbing a bag of chips and the half-empty oreo container. My older sister was in her last year at UNC, and my parents were obsessed with finding any reason to go visit her. Lucy, my younger sister who was a freshman this year at Kildare, adores Kinsey, so I wasn’t shocked that she would want to join too. I was slightly offended that they didn’t invite me, but I probably would’ve said no anyways. 
“Well you’ve been cooped up in your room all week studying I thought you would have plans to go out tonight.” she says, not looking up. “I’ll leave you money for a pizza.” 
“Thanks” I respond shortly before opening the basement door and closing it behind me. 
10 Minutes later Sabrina shows up at the side door with a bookbag clinking loudly behind her. 
“You are so lucky to have this access holy shit how are you not sneaking guys in here everynight.” putting her bag down she opens it up to reveal the bottles of wine and some plastic cups.
I chuckle in response, grabbing one of the bottles and unscrewing the top, filling the cups all the way. 
“That’s the exact reason why I got this room in middle school. My sister Kinsey had it first but got caught her junior year sneaking her boyfriend in. It was so bad. She had just gotten her lacrosse scholarship to UNC and my parents were terrified she was going to get pregant and ruin her life.”
“Thats iconic.” Sabrina says, chugging her wine.  “Sooo Topper told me you were hanging with Noah this week.”
My eyes widen. “Jesus, do I have security following my every move?” I ask, opening the bag of chips. “He walked me to my car Monday, and we studied together in the library on Thursday because we have the same calculus exam next week. How did you even find that out from Topper of all people.”
“You know how they are. They’ll find anyone to gossip about, they’re worse than us. ‘Parently he likes you.” I blush in response to this accusation.
“We’re just friends.” I state, offering her the bag. She takes it from my hands and munches on a few.
“We’ll see” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. I roll my eyes and finish my cup, pouring more wine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We make our way to my back patio, bundled up in hoodies and sweatpants, covered with a blanket, sitting by the fire.
“Promise me you’re not going to talk to Derek ever again.” I say, feeling my words start to slur as we near the end of the second bottle. 
“I promise. I’m so done with that douchebag. This time next year we’ll be at college and I’ll have met so many better people, I hope I forget about him.”
I clink my cup against hers. “Thats the spirit.” 
I grab my small box out from under me and begin to roll up a joint. Music from my speaker fills the silence as Sabrina stares out at the water.
Once I’m done rolling I light it with my purple lighter, inhaling and closing my eyes, leaning my head back before exhaling. I pass it to Sabrina. We go back and forth a few times, enjoying each other's company before her phone rings. I raise an eyebrow and she shows me the caller ID. It’s Topper. I ash the joint and scoot closer as she presses accept.
“Yo where you at Sab?” he shouts into the phone. She puts him on speaker phone and I turn down the music. 
“Partying without you.” she slurs.
“Where?” he asks again. I hear male voices in the background and shake my head, begging her to not tell him she’s at my house. 
“None of your business. Who’re you with?” 
“Kelce and Rafe. The party at Carissa’s just got busted.”
“That’s a shame. Heard it was gonna be a lame party anyways.”
“Yea, is that why you and Y/N skipped out on coming?” he taunts.
“We had better plans.” she responds, trying to hide her giggles in her sleeve.
“Why don’t you let us swing by your better plans then?”
Her eyes flash towards mine and I groan. “Do they have booze?” I whisper.
“Yes we have booze Y/N” Topper responds. I hide my face in my blanket as if he could see me, embarrassed that I had gotten caught. “Are you at her house?” Sabrina goes silent, looking at me with eyes practically screaming at me with what we should say. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I sigh and sit up.
“We’re in the back. And it better just be you three or else.” I threaten in the phone. 
“We’ll be there in 5.” he hangs up the phone and I stare at Sabrina.
She makes a pouty face at me and I let my eyes soften at her.
“If they ruin the vibe it's your fault.”
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