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#But I’m throwing it out here bc requests are taking a while
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have a tiny doodle of the warrior himself :)
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iluvloganhowlett · 2 months
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Feel free to reject this request since it’s kinda heavy, but maybe Hugh kissing the reader’s sh scars but it’s like friends to lovers? Preferably f reader but gen is fine too
YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL ❀˖°
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in which logan draws stars around your scars
warnings: HEAVY MENTIONS OF SH⚠️⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS IS A TOPIC YOU CANNOT HANDLE, angst, blood
i actually love this request as someone who struggles w sh themselves so pls don’t be afraid to ask smt like this!
i also switched it to logan instead of hugh bc i feel like he just fits the part better and this isn’t friends to lovers it’s just lovers😭 sorry
“you drew stars around my scars. but now im bleeding.”
you couldn’t help it, the burning sensation of the blood dripping down over your old scars was a feeling you couldn’t resist.
for 2 years now you’ve told yourself that you’d stop, thay you’d get better. especially since logan came around and made you want to get better. but you couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried.
more sooner than later did the tears of guilt and regret begin pooling your eyes, the hot liquid dripping down your face as you held the cold towel to your wrist harder.
you knew logan would be up here any minute; his class was coming to an end soon. the last thing you needed was him walking in on you cutting yourself after you told him you’d stop.
you took a deep breath, drying your wrist and slapping a few bandaids on it before looking at yourself in the mirror; you were a mess. your face was flushed, covered in streaks of dried tears as the new ones kept coming. your hair was a ruffled mess, you were drowning in your hoodie and fuck did your wrist burn.
“y/n/n?” you heard from afar, shit. surely logan was in your bedroom, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom.
you sighed, praying that your voice would be strong. “i’m in here, just a minute!” you called out, cursing yourself for your voice cracking at the last second.
immediately logan’s concern grew higher, slowly approaching the door and leaning his head against it. your nervous sobs were hard to miss, especially from right against the door.
“y/n,” logan called firmly, “open the door f’me please.”
your eyes widened, noticing how logan’s voice grew louder. it didn’t take you long to pick up on how close logan was to you.
“i can’t,” your voice cracked, you looked down at your hands that shook rapidly, afraid of what was to come.
logan’s brows furrowed, he’d had enough. you heard one of his claws retract as he picked the lock.
quickly, you took out your box, shoving your blade into it and throwing it god knows where into the drawer just before logan barged in.
“are you okay in here?” he asked, glancing down at your exposed wrist, covered in bandaids.
you followed his eyes, yours widening when you noticed you forgot to roll down your sleeve.
logan felt like he could physically feel the pit growing in his stomach, realizing what you had done. logan had never understood why you chose to hurt yourself like this. but he did understand what it was like to endure so much pressure and emotion that you don’t know how to contain it. and so he never screamed, or yelled, or frankly even asked ‘why?,’ because not everyone has a ‘why.’
your tears were flowing once more as you moved closer to logan, “i’m sorry,” you sobbed, burying yourself in his arms.
he immediately welcomed you, wrapping his strong
arms around your shoulders, rocking you back and forth in hopes to calm you down.
he looks down at you, his own eyes glossed over slightly, he hates seeing you like this, especially when he knows he can’t do anything about it.
soon logan loosens his grip, reaching gently for your left wrist and bringing it up to his lips, planting a soft and gentle kiss on one of your old scars.
“my baby,” he mutters, kissing another one while ensuring he leaves your fresh one alone, “my sweet baby.”
you can do nothing but sob harder. you’d expected numerous reactions out of logan but this definitely wasn’t one of them.
“i love you,” kiss. “i’ll always love you, doll.” kiss. “y’know that? i’ll never stop loving you.” kiss.
your eyes dart down as you feel a drop of water on your wrist as logan continues kissing up and down your arm.
he was crying.
his confidence wavers, “you’re beautiful,” kiss. “so, so beautiful,” his voice begins to crack as he leans a head down on your shoulder.
logan takes a deep breath before dropping your wrists and instead taking your face in his hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “you’re always gonna be beautiful t’me, alright? the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
it was the first time you’d ever seen logan cry this hard, the hot tears pouring down his face at an unbelievable pace. you’d be a monster to say this didn’t make you tear up in the slightest.
you place your hands on his wrists, his hands still holding onto your face. slowly he leans in, closing the space between you two. kissing you in such a gentle, loving way that it makes your legs feel weak.
“i love you, logan.”
“you’re beautiful, peach.”
this is so sad☹️
taglist!!
@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod @seamlessepiphany @withafoll @lulawantmula @gigachadcowboy
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
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Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.
Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day
—Digging Gaze
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
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You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt. 
Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason. 
A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance. 
So that left you here. 
You were pregnant. 
You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test. 
Pregnant.
It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course. 
But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.
And you wouldn’t put this on him.
At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face. 
“Johnny?” You ask, blinking. 
The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.
“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—” 
The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave. 
“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.” 
You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”
“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”
Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant. 
Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.
“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”
“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”
“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you. 
“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”
“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”
“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”
“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”
“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”
“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”
In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.
And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.
Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.
The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else. 
You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink. 
“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.
Damn that Scot.
“Eight and a half,” you say quietly. 
Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause. 
“When’s the next appointment—”
“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”
Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you. 
Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.
“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.
“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”
“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.” 
“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”
“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”
Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.
A daughter. 
But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either. 
This was new territory.
“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath. 
“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”
“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”
“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.
You had more self-respect than that.
“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer. 
Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon. 
You frown. 
You huff.
And you open the door wider.
“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”
The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.
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wonuuism · 3 months
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puppy love - 심재윤
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in which jake makes the most if his (expensive) visit to the vet.
tags: fluff, vet!reader, layla’s not overweight irl but for the sake of the plot let’s say she’s been eating a little too well;;
author’s note: idk i wrote this in like an hour bc of a sudden burst of motivation. no proofreading bc it’s 3am LOL. first fic woo!! enjoy!!!
jake’s worried. panicking, even.
layla’s laying down next to him in the back of the taxi, her eyes shifting around nervously. jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as anxiety courses through his veins. layla had slipped and fallen down the stairs while he was home and her sharp whining whenever she walked afterwards made him uneasy. so, he was quick to call up the nearest vet clinic and book the soonest appointment for a consultation.
he’s really, really worried though. layla’s never had any bad scares like this one, so he’s not sure what to expect. what if it’s worse than he thinks? what if they tell him layla’s broken a bone? what if layla has to go through surgery? oh god - jake thinks he might throw up.
he’s interrupted from his thoughts as the taxi driver stops the car and announces they’ve arrived. thanking the driver, jake exits the car and gulps nervously as he surveys the exterior of the clinic. it feels ominous.
a bell rings as he pushes open the door, and the girl at the front desk looks up from the computer screen. “welcome in! how may i help you?”
“uh… i have an appointment at 11:30. for layla.” jake responds.
“awesome, i see you in our calendar. please hold tight while i let the vet know you’re here.” she smiles kindly, but it does little to ease jake’s nerves. still, he manages a tight-lipped smile and curt nod in response.
jake watches as someone emerge from the back, looking at a clipboard in their hands. “layla?”
he stands up right away, prompting layla who had been laying by his feet to do the same. “yes, that’s us.”
you look up at the source of the voice and send him a pleasant smile. walking towards him, you reach out your hand and he shakes it, but not before quickly swiping his palm on his jeans. “nice to meet you. i’m dr. l/n, and i’ll be taking a look at layla today. how about we head inside so i can take a better look at her?”
jake nods earnestly and gently tugs on layla’s leash to have her follow him into the consultation room in the back. once inside, you ask if he could kindly place layla on the table - a request he readily complies to. you’re impressed at how little he struggled given the fact that layla is a fairly big dog. clearly, he was strong. and maybe kind of cute, too.
“so,” you begin, “what seems to be the issue?”
“she had a bit of a bad fall and she’s been limping and whining a lot since then… i’m worried she might’ve broken a bone or something like that?” jake explains as he runs his hand comfortingly through layla’s fur.
you nod as he speaks, reaching over to assess any damage. after checking her heartbeat with your stethoscope, you flex her hips, gently press on her legs, and check on her paws.
as you do so, layla’s continuously making noises of discontent. initially, you had believed that her right front leg was causing her discomfort since she’d barked sharply when you touched it. however, she’d done the same thing for every other limb you’d touched as well. smiling, you turn your attention to her owner.
“i don’t see anything wrong with layla. her legs are fine, i’d say the shock of the fall is probably what made her respond like that. us people tend to coddle our pets a lot when they get injured, and dogs especially like that attention so they exaggerate it to make it seem worse than it is.”
jake is dumbfounded. “so you’re saying layla was just being dramatic?”
you smile apologetically. “yes… i know it’s not the news you were expecting, but that’s a good thing! means she’s not injured.”
you’re right, jake supposes. but that means i brought her all the way here because she’s a drama queen?!
you note the way jake sighs heavily, and it makes you want to try and console him by making his trip to the clinic seem somewhat worthwhile with basic medical advice.
“however, i would recommend putting her on a bit of a diet. she seems to be just a little bit over the ideal weight, and that can cause unnecessary strain on her joints.” you explain and jake nods, hanging on to every word coming out of your mouth. “after all, we want layla to live a long and healthy life, don’t we?” you coo, reaching out to ruffle her neck.
jake smiles. cute.
wait, what?
he takes this chance to finally look at you. he’d been too occupied previously with worry that he hadn’t been able to actually register what you looked like. now, he can see that you are, in fact, cute. you look around his age, and he’s impressed that you’re a vet this young. you suit the scrubs, but he wonders what you’d wear outside of work.
you pull away from layla and jake snaps back to reality. he’s glad layla’s okay. still, he sternly faces her and points his index finger toward her snout. “alright missy, you’re going on a diet starting today. consider it punishment for scaring me like that.”
chuckling, you turn to face him and he mirrors your action. there’s not much left to say, so he thanks you quickly and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. you stay since you have to log layla’s information in your computer. as you’re wrapping up, you add one more thing in layla’s “additional information” section.
additional information: super cute, looks exactly like owner
jake silently mourns on his way back home. again, he’s glad layla’s okay. he really is. but he had to pay an extraordinarily large amount of money just to be told that she’s fine. and a little fat.
he glares at layla, who looks back at him with sparkling eyes. his heart melts at the sight, and he sighs as he pets her. jake thinks of you and the fondness in your eyes as you petted the same fur moments prior. maybe something good did come out of his visit to the vet.
suddenly, he gets an idea. he paid a lot of money for this consultation, so he could be a little greedy. as a client, he could ask for your number, right? after all, what if something truly serious happened next time? he’d rather skip the formality of booking an appointment through the website and speak directly with you instead.
so, he pulls up the clinic’s information and calls the number on their website. a girl — likely the same one who welcomed him in — answers and asks what she could do for him.
“hey, i was just at the clinic for an appointment with my dog layla. i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you think it would be possible to get the number of the vet who saw layla today? just in case anything happens to layla again. you know?”
jake physically cringes as he speaks. way to not sound weird.
“uhm… one moment please.” the girl responds. jake hears whispering on the other side of the call.
what he didn’t know was that you were right next to the girl on call, sorting through some paperwork before you saw your next patient.
“doctor! layla’s owner is calling and asking if he can get your number..?” your secretary whispers.
you whip your head towards her, not believing what you heard. layla’s owner? the cute, fluffy hair guy?
she looks as giddy as you feel, giggling as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. laughing at her, you give her a thumbs up and she’s quick to bring the phone to her ear again.
“hello? yes, the doctor said there’s no problem. do you have something to write with? okay. her number is…”
you smile to yourself as she recites your personal number. a bell rings throughout the clinic, notifying you of your next patient’s arrival. you greet them and lead them to your consultation room and as you close the door your phone buzzes.
unknown number: hi, this is jake. layla’s dad. thanks again for the help today. if you don’t mind, i’d like to take you out sometime?
you bite your lip to suppress your grin. quickly, you reply.
you: i’d love that. date and time?
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luveline · 9 months
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hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭
There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 
Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.
Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 
There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 
“Spencer?” 
He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 
“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 
“Hey. What are you doing here?” 
“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 
“Did you go home?” 
“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 
You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 
“You okay?” you ask gently. 
“When can I leave?” 
“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 
It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 
Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 
You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 
“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 
“Spence.” 
He looks up from under his lashes. 
Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 
He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 
“Thanks for staying,” he says. 
“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 
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its-time-to-write · 3 months
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OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼
THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅
But yeah requests are still open so ask away!
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birds of a feather
The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.
The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.
You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.
But it’s dark, so no one can see.
You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.
Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.
“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”
You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”
Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.
He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.
“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.
You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine. 
But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.
Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.
Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.
Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms. 
You exhale and snuggle as close as you can. 
It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.
You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.
“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.
“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.
Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.
Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.
“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”
You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.
“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”
You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.
If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”
He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.
“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.
“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.
Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”
It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.
The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.
You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.
The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing
Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.
Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic
You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange
Jamie: Sma helpd
Then: *Sam.
You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.
You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.
Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”
“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.
You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”
He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”
You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.
“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.
“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.
“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.
Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.
“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”
Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again. 
“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.
“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.
“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.
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astralis-ortus · 4 months
Text
agent(s) of chaos
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— there's a reason why you love game nights with your boyfriend's second family.
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w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing (i think? it's just hints), the chaos that is ot8 stray kids, one time jump, and reader is referred to as baby! no gender specific attributes mentioned aside from reader's hair being soft, heh a.n → based on this request! not gonna lie, i actually got a slight headache from imagining the chaos throughout the fic lol even in my head they're /that/ loudㅠ heh ⋆ see masterlist
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game nights with your boyfriend and his friends might not happen often; but once they all come together and get the event date set?
oh, a (good) chaos will definitely ensue.
“goddamit—chan hyung! get your eyes on the game!”
“yeah! go get it, seungmin!”
“felix you bronze—step on it! catch up!”
a collective of cheers and disappointed groans were imminent as soon as yoshi, seungmin’s character of the night, crosses the finish line; leaving dry bowser and baby mario—which respectively belongs to han and chan, in second and third place. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought the boys were just competing in some major mario kart competition.
“­wah chan hyung—you’re seriously so bad at this!” changbin loudly protests—to which you genuinely thank yourself for pushing through with the rented villa agenda—while throwing his head back against the sofa in desperation. lee know, their other unfortunate teammate on the other hand, is busy pretending to box against your cackling boyfriend, having a string of ‘sorry’s falling from his lips.
“argh!” switching his target in desperation, changbin immediately puts his hands together and faces you with his attempt of salvation. “please switch teams with me! i can’t do this any longer! he’s so bad!” he pleaded, nearly earning himself a thrown nintendo controller on the head from chan if it wasn’t for your swift hands, snatching the heavy plastic from your pouting boyfriend. Well, not that you mind though, considering how adorable your boyfriend looked while he sulks.
“yah yah yah—changbin hyung!” seungmin intercepted—and if you know something about the kim seungmin, then his iconic multiple-hit comment is about to pop off. “no one told you to be so bad with rock paper scissors anyway!” the younger pointed out, a smug grin etched across the span of his face, “that’s why you ended up with chan hyung!”
“hey!” your boyfriend was the first to react, pointing at the smug younger one—and of course, it’s not changbin if he didn’t follow suit.
“yah! you prick!” huffing and puffing, changbin was quick on his feet as soon as seungmin stuck out his tongue, further provoking the curly haired male while he ran away—only to fish more of changbin’s loud shouts after the younger. “yah kim seungmin! come back here!”
series of laughter follows the disappearance of the two; to which everyone know by heart now, is also the best time for the rest of the kids to take their water and bathroom break—and alongside that, also became the best time for chan to finally take a proper look at you.
“you’re still good, baby?” the switch in his demeanor made you giggle as you lean into chan’s warm touch on your cheek. despite having witnessed the shift countless of times, the way chan’s voice became very soft when he spoke with you never fails to make your heart flutter. “it’s almost 1 am, aren’t you sleepy yet?”
“i’m good,” a smile follows your simple answer whilst your arms found their home around your boyfriend’s waist, snuggling closer to his warmth while chan lifts your legs to cross over his lap. “can last at least 2 more games, i think. besides, i drank some of the coffee jeongin brewed earlier, remember?”
chan’s exaggerated sigh along with his usual disapproving head shake ignites another set of laugh within you, fishing another pout to appear on his plump lips. “knew i shouldn’t have trusted jeongin,” he dramatically piched his nose bridge, trying to look as disappointed as he could. “he’s part of the bad peaches club after all.”
“i heard that!”
jeongin’s resounding shout from the kitchen startles both you and chan—causing your laughter and chan’s to grow in volume. “not sorry!” chan’s reply simply earned a grunt from the younger, not wanting to further continue the discourse while he’s busy arguing with hyunjin about who can get their hands on the last can of beer in the fridge.
“but anyway,” chan’s gaze softened as they returned to you, running his fingers mindlessly in your soft hair, “tell me whenever you feel sleepy, okay? we’ll go to bed right away.”
“i know,” an exaggerated sigh left your lips as you immitate your boyfriend’s previous antics, “this isn’t my first rodeo, you know?” you snickered as you playfully stuck out your tongue—which in turn only further cause the adoration in his chest to bubble.
oh, how he wish you’re all alone right now. he’d immediately tackle you into a cuddle and plant several dozens of light kisses across your face and neck—but he must resist. after all, he wouldn’t want the kids to tease you over something like that.
“gosh, you’re so annoying,” he hummed, lips betraying him as it formed into a massive grin across his lightly flushed cheeks, “think you’ve been hanging around the kids too much. i should keep a schedule for your visits from now on.”
“nooo!”
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4 round of games and 20 minutes later, another wave of commotion returns as the race for second place—since first place has again been coveted by the representative agent of chaos, the kim seungmin—ensues between lee know and han.
“han jisung! step on it step on it!”
“lee know hyung! shi—why are you getting as bad as chan hyung!”
“yah! baby, tell—“
chan’s words immediately died down in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your peacefully sleeping face—plea to defend himself from his kids vaporized and replaced with a soft thump in his chest. You looked so peaceful with your head resting against his shoulder—a massive contrast to the chaos surrounding you—and chan could feel his heart swell. you looked so cute; especially with your fingers wrapped tightly around the controller seungmin had just handed you a few moments prior.
had you been fighting off the drowsiness all along?
carefully pulling you into his lap, chan smiled as he gently peeled the controller off of your hand before dropping it directly onto hyunjin’s unsuspecting lap, startling the younger.
“ya—“
“shut it,” chan hissed between gritted teeth, easily pulling hyunjin’s focus from the chaos happening on screen and to you—who immediately nodded his head knowingly when he realized what’s happening.
“yah lee min—ow! what was th—oh.”
chan’s next target was changbin—who immediately received a slap on the back instead of chan’s quiet warning. it’s rather effective, however, considering outside of the two current players, everyone now has their eyes on you.
“keep it quiet—if my baby wakes up because of any of you,” chan eyed every single one of his kids, not even caring how severe the teasing he’ll receive by the daylight will be for whatever he’ll be saying next,
“i’m not gonna let it slide.”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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vaaaaaiolet · 1 month
Text
Left to his own devices during an international flight, Leon reflects on the most recent failure in his life: screwing over his airport crush. Said crush might also happen to be seated a couple rows ahead.
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f / m, fluff, romance, you know the drill, bitches. leon is stupid and clumsy and crushing on you like crazy!! roman holiday mentioned bc i love gregory peck
word count: 957 // read on ao3
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a/n: for my beautiful beautiful mutuals @idyllcy + @kennedysbaby <3 make sure to buckle up when you fly!! and don't take your shoes off on planes that's gross dudes
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On long international flights, you’ve got three options to pass the time:
stuff your face.
watch outdated blockbusters.
sleep like the dead.
Leon, however, picks option D) relive the most embarrassing moments of his life while trying not to throw himself out of the nearest emergency exit. He’s such an efficient decision maker that he’s whittled his selection down to the most recent of these moments – exactly three hours ago.
Three hours ago at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, Leon was the biggest jackass to the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 
She’d been sitting pretty, smiling down at her phone like some sort of angel sent from the sky in the early morning rays, and Leon was half-awake, running late as always. Eyes shutting by themselves. Shitty airport coffee bombarding his taste buds. Five o’clock in the morning is the worst time to have Hunnigan yelling in his earpiece. 
If Leon had decided to sit anywhere other than the closest spot, right behind that pretty girl, his brain wouldn’t have been torturing him for the past three hours. He groans at the memory, waving a hand dismissively at the flight attendant offering him an extra blanket. 
Leon doesn’t deserve warm blankets right now. The Antarctic should freeze him over and karma should shut down his in-flight entertainment screen. He cranes his neck to find the back of the girl’s head for the the millionth time, and there she is, sandwiched between two burly strangers, beautiful head left pillowless because Leon stole that too along with her window seat. 
How? 
In Leon’s half-asleep daze, he’d taken a nice big stretch, reaching his arms skyward to smooth out last mission’s leftover muscle pulls. And in that same daze, he’d conveniently forgotten about the lukewarm cup of coffee he was still holding. 
Newton is to apple as Kennedy is to coffee; he’d spilled every last drop down the back of the girl’s neck. Saturated her travel pillow right through. Her yelp had woken him up faster than any coffee in his life, and he’d whipped his head around to meet a pair of stunning eyes, wide open in shock that was entirely his fault.
And he didn’t even apologize! 
No, what Leon did was stare at her like a blithering idiot. 
Her boarding pass had happened to be tucked in her back pocket and coffee had spilled all over that too. It was made of some sort of eco-friendly paper, the kind that promises to disintegrate within seconds of contact with water to not choke the turtles or whatever, and that’s exactly what it did. Going, going, gone in front of his eyes. And to top it all off, Leon’s boarding group got called at that exact minute, and he’d left the poor girl to sort out her seat without so much as offering to help.
“Sir?” the flight attendant repeats.
Leon blinks, busy swimming in guilty reverie. “I said don’t need a blanket.” 
“No sir, I’m actually coming here with a seat change request,” she says, louder this time. “Would you mind someone taking the empty spot next to you?”
Well, it’s not like he needs the aisle seat for his feet or something. 
“Yeah, sure thing.”
And he closes his eyes to return to his pity party, hears shuffling in the dimly-lit cabin as the seat next to him dips, and you know what? It is kind of cold. He could use that extra blanket. Leon cracks open an eye and holy fucking shit the pretty girl is sitting right next to him.
“It’s you,” he stammers, sitting ramrod straight. “I am so incredibly sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to run off like that at all.”
She faces him. Recognizes him. “O-Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I still made the flight, right?” 
He shakes his head. “You got stuck in late boarding. You got a bad seat because of me and- god, your pillow. I’ll buy you another one the moment we land, okay?” 
But the pretty girl, you, you just laugh. “Really, it’s alright. It was a ratty old thing.”
“Then let me buy you a coffee,” Leon insists, searching for some kind of way to make up for his blunder, “it’ll be morning when we land and you couldn’t have gotten any sleep stuck between those guys in your old seat.” 
Way to go. He’s just confessed to staring at you the whole flight like some kind of stalker. 
“I’m more of a tea person, but you know what? I’ll take the offer.” 
Tea. He likes tea. Leon breathes a sigh of relief as you settle in, buckling your belt and digging around for the in-flight entertainment remote. He hands it to you from under your seat, brushing his shoulder against your knee and suddenly feeling a lot less cold as heat floods his face.
You smile when he surfaces. “Found anything good to watch?”
“Mm, not much. Hope you like Roman Holiday,” Leon adds softly, “it’s the only movie with subtitles.”
“Can’t say I don’t. It’s one of my favorites.” 
He’s going woozy. Is it the cabin pressure? Audrey Hepburn flashes across the screen in black and white, but he’s finding her beauty a lot less blinding than yours. You’re tilting your head at him, shit, is he staring again?
“Thank you, uh, gosh,” you chuckle, “I never caught your name.”
Phew.
“Leon,” he supplies with a grin. “And you are?”
You’re a liar, is what you are. A beautiful liar because he’s right – you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep since he ruined your pillow. Your head drops onto his shoulder not ten minutes into Roman Holiday, and Leon could swear Audrey winks at him before she drifts off to sleep too.
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psst, find more of my work here!
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!
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sectumsempraaa · 2 months
Text
Threads of Solace
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Word count: 1.8k
TW: Panic/mental distress, kissing, it's mostly fluff :)
Based on this request. Thank you Emma!!
Summary: As the fifth years prepare for OWL exams, you struggle to cope with your reoccurring test anxiety. Your boyfriend Theo acts as a calming source, helping you make it through to your shared summer vacation.
AN: No Italian translation bc y'all... we know this by now
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“Come on bella, you know this one!” Theo encourages you while holding up one of the note cards you made. You’ve been studying for hours together up in the astronomy tower.
Biting your lip in concentration, you start to wonder if you ever paid attention in Charms class.
“You can’t do that,” Theo grumbled, the slightest smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. You look into his dark eyes, slightly delirious from how late it is. You’ve been spending every night this week up here, stressing over your upcoming OWLs.
“Do what?” you ask, looking back to the card he’s holding up to your gaze. Without thinking, you bite down on your lip again, with more pressure this time, digging in the depths of your brain for the answer. It feels utterly hopeless.
“That.” He brushes his thumb over your mouth, bringing your attention to his face as it leans closer to yours. His eyes run over the spot on your bottom lip that’s now slightly pink and irritated. While you examine his features, your mind slowly wanders to other thoughts… 
Gods he is beautiful. He is the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen. Handsome, stunning-
You suddenly gasp, your eyes darting back to the note card. “Stunning spell!” you cried out. His lingering hand grabs your chin and pulls you towards him, kissing you so delicately it almost hurts. His other hand crumples the note card, throwing it off the side of the tower.
“Corretta.” He whispers, pulling away from you. His expression fades to a frown as you let out a long, frustrated groan, covering your face with your hands. Confusion washes over him, tilting his head slightly.
“I’m doomed. I’m so utterly, completely doomed.” You state, your voice laced with dread. You feel one of his hands rub your back, shifting himself closer to you. “It shouldn’t have taken me that long to figure it out. I won’t have that kind of time during exams.”
Despite the fatigue racking your body, you mindlessly exhibit one of your anxious habits. You never really notice it, especially with your mind in a million different places, but he does. He notices how every time your heart rate picks up, you rub a hand over your chest. And he notices the others, too. The nail biting, the leg shaking, and the shortened breath.
He packs up your bag, stowing away any and all study materials. His hand rests on your thigh, his thumb tracing light circles on your skin. The touch of plastic and thread grazes your skin. It gets your attention, your fingers instinctively gravitating towards the beaded bracelet on his wrist that you made him a couple months ago.
“Come on, Y/N. Let’s call it a night.” He starts, giving you a sympathetic look and a kiss on your cheek.
He doesn’t get the same nerves you do around exams, but he will do whatever it takes to soothe yours. “And you’re sleeping in my dorm so I can make sure you don’t try to stay up even later for this.”
You let your mind go blank as you fidget the beads around in your fingers, letting the distraction ground you. It brings a smile to your face, and his, reminding you what awaits on the other side of these gruesome tests: a whole summer with Theo.
After that night, Theo sat you down and devised a study schedule with you. This eased your worries a bit, making it all feel a little more manageable. Each day you’d meet in the astronomy tower for two hours, spending a half hour on each subject. 
You weren’t fully convinced it would be enough, but it would do for now. Plus, he doesn’t have to know about the three additional hours you’d stay up in your dorm with your textbooks.
Today, you’re in the Great Hall having breakfast with Theo and some of your Slytherin friends. Mattheo and Draco are sitting across from you, snacking on pastries and sipping tea. Both of them are flipping pages of pages of library books and staring intently at their pages. It seems everyone is in study mode.
“Can’t wait to get these bloody exams over with,” Draco starts, making his low level of investment extremely clear. “The damn things are a waste of time.”
Mattheo sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Well, next week they’ll be over and we’ll all be free from your unending complaints.”
“Like I even need to take them…” Draco mutters to himself.
“Not all our dads can buy us a career, Draco.” Mattheo fires back, his voice drowns out as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.
They start next week. 
Your body grows still, as panic starts to set in. You nearly choke on your toast, looking up to Mattheo with widened eyes and a colorless face. He lifts a concerned brow at you before glancing at Theo. They’re talking but you can’t hear them. You are completely checked out.
In your mind, the thoughts are racing so fast you can’t keep up with them.
I’ll fail. I won’t have a career. I’ll be a disappointment.
You can already feel the pressure of the clock ticking and the sound of quills around you writing effortless answers while yours is stone cold solid. 
Breathing becomes harder as more thoughts pollute your mind.
Slow. Unprepared. Lost cause.
The image of students standing up to hand in their completed exams plagues you. Then, you faintly hear it, following its tune. That deep, soothing voice. Theo’s.
“Tesoro, come back.” His gentle voice echoes from one ear to the other as it attempts to pry you from your daze. You feel a warm hand softly grip your thigh, willing it to stop shaking. “Come back, Y/N. I’m right here.”
Your head turns to him, your eyes blinking like you’re coming out of a trance. You meet his gaze for a second before taking in your surroundings. Sounds start to become clearer and rapidly moving colors start to break and fade away. Your heart slows down, settling back to normal.
“There’s my girl,” he says, placing a hand on your back, stroking your hair. He grabs your dominant hand, pulling it towards him as you continue to adjust back to reality. “Here.”
You watch as his hands tie a bracelet around your wrist, a twin to the one on his.
“I tried to make it like the one you made me. Pansy helped, of course.” He explained. Your fingers start to fiddle with it in your other hand, the way you do with his when you’re stressed. “Now you can have one all the time.”
The bracelet is made up of dark olive green and gold string, adorned with tiny white beads engraved with both your initials. You smile at his effort, the way his thread is a little more frayed and the beads are a bit too slanted. You love it. It’s perfectly Theo.
“Thank you, amore mio. I would have had to drag you to my tests and forced you to sit next to me if you hadn’t made this.” You laughed, shaking off the rest of your panic and melting into his touch.
You look at him, noticing the mesmerized expression on his face as he scans you in awe. He’s looking at you like you’re his sun, moon, and stars. He suddenly cups your face with his hands and brings his lips to yours, sending every ounce of joy and passion into your kiss. You smile against him, letting a laugh escape into his mouth.
“You can’t do that, either.” He breathes, grinning and resting his forehead on yours. “You drive me crazy, cara mia.” You rarely respond to him in Italian, usually saving it for ‘special occasions.’
Your heart is still swelling from the gift. It starts to hit you how much support you have, how many people believe in you. It makes everything feel a little less daunting. That no matter what, you have them, and this pretty wonderful boy.
“The exams… the scores, they don’t matter, really. Do they?” You ask sheepishly, looking down at your lap. You have told yourself this over and over, but your brain never lets you accept it. Because why does your mind crumble for something so meaningless?
Something about saying it out loud made it feel real. Maybe you just needed to say it, to be heard.
“They matter just about as much as the tea stains on Draco’s fancy new jumper.” He laughs, gesturing his head towards the blonde boy who scowls at the realization. You miss it though, too busy nurturing the comfort Theo just provided you.
Weeks later, you’re laying on a bed, legs hooked around Theo’s. The warm Italian sun just starts to creep in through the bedroom curtains of his family’s cozy villa, where neither of you are wearing clothes. You wake up first, your half-asleep self reaching for his bracelet to play with.
Every day you’ve been here, just two of you, exploring the local towns and forgetting real life exists. You of course made it through exams, maybe the easiest round of them you’ve ever had. Turns out Theo’s study schedule really was enough.
Your eyelids flutter open slowly, your lips leaving gentle kisses across his broad chest as he begins to shift beneath you. His hands find their way up your back, grazing your skin with his fingertips. This new morning routine never fails to make you smile.
Suddenly, a familiar noise comes from the kitchen. The definitive brush of envelopes dropping on wood is enough to know what it is. Your OWL scores are here.
“Hmm, you want to go look, bella?” His voice hoarse from sleep. His hands lift off you, leaving a slight chill where they were resting. You don’t respond at first, your mind attempting to suck you back into panic. 
But then you feel it, his bracelet rubbing against the same one on your wrist. A subtle reminder. You blink back to the present moment, his face slightly confused as you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, your weight unmoving as you settle back into his embrace.
“No. And put your hands back, please. I have no intention of moving from this spot anytime soon.” You say, a smirk spreading across your face. His chest moves with the laughter escaping his mouth.
He kisses the top of your head, many, many times. You genuinely don’t care what’s in the envelope. The only part of your future you’re concerned about is making sure you get to do this every summer with your favorite person in the world.
You close your eyes, wrapping your arms a little tighter around him, letting yourself drift off. He whispers, the phrase making your heart flutter.
“There’s my girl.”
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thoughtsforsoob · 8 months
Text
asking them to buy you pads :( - nct dream
a/n: period season has unfortunately come for me (is it really unfortunate or does that just mean I’m not pregnant 😁 lmao probably not even possible bc I have no bf nor many male friends). Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! I am going to try to do some more writing formats instead of texts but let me know which of you two you guys like best. Thank you and remember that requests are always open :D
mark
To me he seems like a very caring boyfriend. This scenario doesn’t take place very often because he keeps you stocked up all the time if you forget. For the sake of this post, let’s say that you’re at home and he’s on tour. You’re stuck at home, crying to him on the phone about how you forgot to stock up on pads. He’s being the most sympathetic person ever and comforting you while ordering you pads to be delivered. He also throws in some groceries and sweets because you probably weren’t up to going shopping. When it arrives, you groan when he tells you to go to the door but immediately your eyes light up as you see the large delivery. “Anything for my girl. So sorry I can’t be there to make it better :(“
renjun
He didn’t even need to be asked to get more. He either has more or he noticed and went to the store before coming home. So, you get your period that evening and when he’s on the drive home, you call him crying like never before and he’s worried. You tell him your situation and how silly you feel. “I’ll stop by the store. I should be home soon okay? Don’t even worry about it. I’ll also make you something warm to eat and drink for dinner.” He was tired, sure, but you needed him and he loved that.
jeno
jeno is the cutest bf on earth hello???!!! Keeps a period tracker on your phone and one morning, he got the notification that your period should be coming on that day. He trusted it and slipped out of bed, running to the pharmacy and the convenience store to get what he needed for a period care pack. He decided to make one for you ever since you two have been together as a sweet little tradition. You woke up when he was gone and panicked. You called him and cried to him about him leaving, “see you leaving me forever?? I miss you Jen, please come back to me I’ll do anything!” He laughs, “silly girl, I’m just getting your care pack. Your period should be here today.” He comes back home asap and comforts you all day.
haechan
This guy is so silly that he tells you no!! what a silly guy hahaha *my eye is twitching as I type this* You ask him to pick up some pads for you and his way home from schedule and he’s like “nah I don’t wanna. You go do it.” You immediately start to fight back and tell him in a serious tone, “unless you want me to trail blood all over our apartment and then faint in the way to the store, please go get me some pads.” BLOOD? Haechan immediately reconsiders and asks to stop at the store when being driven home.
jaemin
Such a gentleman! Jaemin will never ever say no to you when it comes to asking him to buy you personal care items. He makes sure you get the best quality brand and that you have everything else you might need. Want a ice cream that only is made at a creamery 20 miles away? Done. Want noodles from your favorite spot in the next town over? Don’t even have to ask. He makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time and even tells the kitties to be gentle with their mommy.
chenle
Doesn’t want to show it but he’s so nervous. He might try to tell you no by saying something along the lines of, “you’re so irresponsible why did you not buy more if you knew it was coming soon? plus, this isn’t manly at all.” you threw the hardest pillow you own at his head and start to sob so he takes his ass to the store. he starts to feel bad so he grabs what you need and picks up your comfort take out on the way home. don’t worry, he’ll even cuddle you and feed you if you so wish when he arrives home.
jisung
He’s so nervous. The only reason he goes is because he knows you absolutely need them and he doesn’t wanna get in your bad side when your hormones are all out of wack. When he realizes he forgot to ask you for a picture of the box you need and then you don’t answer calls or texts, he panics. He’s hesitates but ends up asking a store clerk what to get :( he’s so embarrassed but the clerk, noticing how shy he was, commended him for his bravery and helped him select the pads. he buys them plus some candy :)
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yogurtkags · 2 months
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hii! may i please request suna rintaro w maybe some friends to lovers? u can have creative freedom w it! i just want it to be completely sfw bc i’m only 17!:)
❝ SO HIGH SCHOOL ❞ — suna rintarou
cw. gn!reader, implied friends to lovers, slight canon divergence — inarizaki beats karasuno, light swearing (like once)
event masterlist
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the gymnasium is ablaze, drums and horns in an intense battle of psyche against each other as the teams fight it out on the orange court with rally after rally.
you’re sitting at the edge of your seat, eyes wide and hands clenched together as the last few points of this definitive match drag out. your heart rapidly races against your chest and your palms are beginning to sweat, you’ve been awfully quiet for a while now, focused on the game at hand and nervously bounding your leg up and down.
suna doesn’t know that you’re here, you told him that you couldn’t make it because you were called back to school to help with tutoring. he didn’t mind too much considering the circumstances and this wasn’t the finals or anything. nonetheless, you caught a glimpse of disappointment flash in his eyes for a split second, and you knew you’d do anything in your power to show up today, even if it meant bowing on your knees and apologising to your poor kouhai for rainchecking on her. she just politely patted your back and told you to go get your man, much to your embarrassment.
it’s down to inarizaki’s match point, and atsumu’s yelling for the cover after karasuno barely manages to bump the ball back over the net.
with a pass directly to atsumu, the twins once again attempt their minus tempo quick attack and with bated breath, the stands fall silent and the air is stifling, the crowds listening out for the decisive whistle and call that would determine who moves on to the next round of the tournament.
“what a spike from miya osamu, beautifully set by his twin brother miya atsumu, and with that, inarizaki takes the win today and clinch a spot in the top 16 for this year’s high school spring volleyball tournament!”
you shoot up from your seat hidden in the corner at the side of the court, hands over your mouth as you bask in the loud cheers of the people around you, fellow inarizaki students, teachers, and spectators alike. your eyes scan the orange court, searching for your best friend in a sea of black and orange, and when they do find his, you can’t help but let out a tearful laugh at the way they widen with disbelief, and soften as his arms open wide for you to run into.
as you throw yourself into his embrace, suna catches you with an oof, lightly spinning as he tries to regain his footing, “woah easy there, tiger.”
raising your voice so that he can hear you over the crowd, “congratulations rin!”
you wrap your arms around his neck as his hands tenderly rest against your waist to support you, forehead leaning against his as your breath fans against his cheeks, more quietly this time, “i’m so proud of you, always.”
in this moment, time stands still and all the surrounding noise fades, it’s just the two of you standing in the middle of the tokyo metropolitan gymnasium, nothing but sweat and polished hardwood floors beneath your feet.
suna whispers, “i fucking love you so much, i could kiss you right now.”
“do it, i dare you.” your face is graced with a shy smile and a cheeky glint hidden in crescent moons for eyes, and he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
and who was he to ever back down from a challenge, head dipping ever so slightly to finally capture your lips in his.
they’re right, we don’t need the memories, let’s just live in the moment, you and me.
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notes. hi chloe !! thank you so much for your request, this is my first time writing for sunarin and i hope i did him justice ♡ i look forward to interacting more with you, lovely !! (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !
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© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.
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piece of you in how i dress
“cherry” by harry styles
benny cross x reader / 1.1k words
idea: benny rocks a new look
tw: none really, drinking, smoking, cursing, but just a bunch of cuteness
notes: sooo i sent a request to clo a bit ago (b4 we became bestie boos) and i was rereading what she wrote and it was SO GOOD so i kinda wanted to write a little piece abt that!! sorry if this is kinda shit imve been really really busy the past week but i wanted to put something out BUT i hope y’all like this :)) also PLEASE go read @semperamans work bc she is just TOO GOOD and deserves all the love !!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
benny’s always had a distinct look to him. messy hair, ripped jeans, sharp tattoos, scares covering his fists, and a chilling stare on his face that completed his intimidating look. although he and the rest of the vandals all seem to look the same, with their colors on and unique pasts merging together, benny was always recognizable and stood out like a sore thumb.
nobody really questioned why the young vandal was so feral, why his past shaped him into somebody who can either lurk in silence or create chaos out of nothing in the blink of an eye, because it wasn’t anyone's business. sure the vandals began because of the love to ride all day and night, but the community of people was built around acceptance of each member, regardless of their past.
so why the hell would anyone care? the guy just has a classic look to him!
until benny met you.
“wahoo you seeing what i’m seein’?” “the sexy redhead with that tiny skirt on? cause if you are-” “stop fuckin’ droolin’ for a second and turn that thick ass head of yours ‘round! over at the pool table!” due to drinking a ton and smoking weed, it took a while for corky and wahoo to focus on the same thing. and luckily they were able to, looking over at the pool table where benny was watching cal take a strike during their game. his dark shirt and dark jeans were so rough against his skin, that the pop of blush pink was throwing the two guys off. a little pink blob was tied around a belt loop on benny’s jeans, standing out like a sore thumb.
to say that wahoo and corky were stumped was an understatement “what is that shit on his pants?” “i d’know, that’s why my last resort was askin’ you” “ah fuck you too shithead! if you care s’much let’s jus’go ahead n’ask him” wahoo stood up first with corky trailing behind as they walked to the pool table, the mix of alcohol and pot in their systems making them stumble and laugh.
once they reached the table they immediately approached benny, perching their hands on his side of the table “hey benny! did ya’ fairy godmother visit you in ya’ sleep last night?” “or a.. a princess spare y’any gifts?” the boys started chattering, trying to hint to benny at what they were talking about “what t’hell are you goin’ on about? did you take some of that shit sonny got?” benny was genuinely confused, wondering what in gods name wahoo and corky took to be asking him about fairies and princesses. “what y’mean? look at you! all pretty in pink for us tonight! jus’wanna know what lucky lady gave y’that?” corky said with a laugh, which got the attention of cal.
oh here we go.
benny put it together in his head what they were laughing about, and a rush of pink started to fill the cheeks. he completely forgot he had your pink scare tied to him, you asked him to hold onto it because it was bothering your neck. he didn’t even think of it, and now caught off guard that his friends noticed.
he didn’t know what to say. was everyone else gonna start teasing him? telling him that he’s changed and now all soft? he had no idea. but as he was trying to open his mouth to say something, cal already beat him to it.
“you guys know who gave that to him, she’s literally been in here 3 times this week! spared your sorry asses some cookies that were for the ladies!” cal chirped in, his voice gaining the intoxicated guys attention “benny’s right, what the fuck did y’all take? can’t have y’forget so much that your dicks are hanging out ‘cause you forgot how to zip up your flies!” he said vulgarly, but earning a little chuckle from benny “now go smoke whatever shit sonny gave you outside! m’getting a headache” cal told corky and wahoo. both benny and cal watched them walk away, drowning in drunken cackles.
benny turns his head back to cal, seeing him take a sip of his beer before shifting his attention back to him “so how is she? i noticed that she isn’t with you tonight?” cal’s question threw off benny for a moment, surprised that he’d be asking about his girl. “yeah she’s good. she uh.. picked up an extra shift early for the mornin’, so she stayed home so she could get a good sleep,” benny said softly, the shift to talking about his girl made the blush creep even higher “almost didn’t show tonight ‘cause i wanted to help her relax, but she insisted for me to come here anyway” he said with a smile. oh how stubborn you could be.
“well i'm glad that she’s well, y’got a hard working lady on y’hands” cal said in response, noticing how shy benny got “listen, you and i both know that they're off their asses tonight, so don’t let their teasing rattle you, i know they respect her as much as the rest of us do” cal spoke to benny calmly, unsure if he was upset with their friends “no no i.. i’m not mad. i feel the opposite really,” benny looked down at the sweet pink scarf against his jeans “jus’happy that’ll get to see her once i get back home” he looked up at cal with a smile. it’s already getting pretty late, and benny told you that he’d drive you to work in the morning, so he might as well just call it a night and head out.
and just like that it was like cal read his mind “well why don’t you go on and get to it, i’ll cover our drinks right here” cal offered, which benny returned with a nod. he benny grabbed his leather jacket, and started walking away, cal spoke up one more time
“tell her i wish her luck, and hope to see the both of you on friday” “i promise i will”
and with that final promise he was out the door, hopped on his bike, and was on his way home. while driving down the dimly lit roads he’d glance down at your scarf blowing in the wind, and couldn’t help but smile. ‘a little piece of you in how he dressed’ some could say.
he couldn’t wait to get home.
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ayyy-pee · 1 year
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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Day 1: Exhibitionism
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Cheating, Exhibitionism, Creampie, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Masturbation, Exes to Lovers, Jealousy, Wasting food :(, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO
Summary: Satoru hates the fact that you've been out of his grasp all this time. He loathes that you’ve been in the arms of another man, that you’ve had someone else warming his side of the bed, let someone else taste you, hold you, feel you the way he used to.
You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you. 
❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥
Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist
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“You alright, sweetie?” You ask, peering through the rearview mirror as you put your car in park. The sound of whistles blowing, people cheering and clapping can already be heard from the parking lot. The nervous little face of your nine year old son behind you stares out the window. He looks about ready to ask you to turn around and go home. His stark white brows lift, his messy, just as stark white tresses swing wildly when he turns his attention to you. 
“Hmm?”
You unclick your seatbelt to turn in your seat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” he sighs, fidgeting with the collar of his uniform. “I just…wanna win today.”
Bright blue eyes stare into yours, searching for reassurance. Those same blue eyes that remind you too much of the one person you’d like to avoid as much as possible today. Even so, you grin, nodding.
“Honey, you’re going to do great. You’ll win the game and Daddy and I will take you out after. We’ll take you even if you don’t win.” You wink.
“Dad’s coming?!” He beams, unbuckling his seatbelt excitedly. You knew the mention of his father would help.
“Yep, he should be here soon. I’m sure you’ll see him while I’m getting your snacks together.”
“Cool!” He scoots forward, throwing his small arms around you and your seat. “I’ll see you after the game, Mom. Gotta go warm up.” Your son swings the backdoor open and leaps out.
“Good luck!”
With a sigh, you climb out of the vehicle, popping the trunk open to grab your snack cooler. It’s your son’s last soccer game of the season. He wants his dad to watch him win, wants to make him happy. It’s cute. Though there’s not much he really needs to do to make his father proud. He could do anything and he’d be happy. Because the one good thing about Satoru Gojo is that he’s incredible at being a dad.
You and Satoru have separated for a while now, per your request. Satoru is an incredible father. You’ll never argue that. But as far as being a husband goes? Well, there were a few things about him that rubbed you the wrong way during your marriage that prompted you to ask for a separation. The main issue being that he just really gets on your fucking nerves. It’s almost like he goes out of his way to get under your skin. Satoru’s always been that way. At one point in time, it was endearing, exciting.
But your personalities began to clash and Satoru began to feel more like dead weight than your partner. It was just a matter of growing apart. The decision to leave Satoru was easy. It was staying away that was hard.
That’s why you’d jumped at the chance to do snacks for the boy’s team today. You and Satoru rarely enjoyed family events together. Not because you didn’t get along. You got along fine, whether Satoru was annoying or not. More for the fact that being in the same room with each other usually led to such thick sexual tension that you’d end up texting him to sneak over in the dead of night. 
And you were seeing someone else now. Satoru knew it. You knew it, obviously. And yet, you still worried that whatever insane hold Satoru still had on you would ruin your relationship.
But this event meant a lot to your son. He wanted his father here for this and you couldn’t say no to him. Besides, Satoru would be on the sidelines, cheering far, far away from you while you prepped the fruit slices and sandwiches in the small snack shed at the end of the field.
Halfway to the shed, you set the cooler down on the grass just when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. A small smirk graces your features seeing the name flicker across the screen with a text.
Baby: I’m running a little behind, but I’ll be heading out soon! Baby: Wish him good luck for me! You: Drive safe babe. No rush!
You’ve been dating your current boyfriend for a few months now. Things are going well…slow. But it’s fine. You don’t need the constant rush or excitement that you had with Satoru. That’s what you like about him anyway. That he’s not Satoru. And your son likes him well enough. That’s the most important thing.
You’d let Satoru know ahead of time that your boyfriend was coming and he didn’t seem to have an issue with it. At least, as far as you could tell. Satoru never was good at being honest about his feelings.
“Ohhh, is that your new future husband?” A familiar, grating voice sings into your ear and you roll your eyes because you know exactly who it is. Next to you stands Satoru, in all of his irritating glory.
He’s got that stupid grin that you know so well on his face, cocky as ever because he knows he looks good. He’s already basking in the way the soccer mom’s heads nearly fly off their necks spinning around just to look at him. Too damn tall for his own good and conceited as hell because he’s not a fucking idiot, Satoru knows he’s attractive. Top it off with those eyes he likes to wear sunglasses over just so he can relish in the gasps he receives when people see his aggressively blue eyes?
Satoru is a walking red flag if you’ve ever seen one.
He’s obnoxious. And yet your body still tosses all common sense out the window whenever you’re near him. Your heart stutters, your cheeks warm, your palms fucking sweat. It’s pathetic.
You scowl, tucking your phone away. “Mind your own business for once, Satoru.”
Satoru blinks, stunned for all of two seconds…and then throws his head back with raucous laughter. He slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs. "Well, I still pay the phone bill so it's not like I can't check to see who you're texting anyway."
Asshole. Your eyes narrow. "...Do you?"
There’s not a second of silence between you two before Satoru laughs again and points to the cooler, asking, "What's in there?"
His sudden redirection works, your eyes falling on to the cooler. “Oh, I’m on snack duty this week so everything’s in here.”
Satoru’s not paying much attention anymore, eyes scanning the soccer field until they land on your son. He waves, calling out “good luck!” across the field. You take advantage of his brief distraction and grab the cooler, moving toward the shed hurriedly. 
You feel Satoru’s presence trailing behind you within seconds, following you because of course he is.
“I can give you a hand with those if you want,” Satoru offers, long legs carrying him to stride next to you. You shake your head.
“I don’t want. Go watch the game and enjoy.”
You need distance. Being within a small, enclosed space with Satoru sounds like hell. Because you know it will take no time at all for him to talk you out of your pants. Satoru jogs ahead anyway, opening the door to the dingy shed for you and you move inside, setting the cooler down gently. 
“I insist.”
- - - - -
Satoru thinks it’s cute how stubborn you are. You’ve always been like that, bullheaded and impossible to move when you’re set in your ways. You always say Satoru has never changed and never will, but it’s really you. It’s one of the many things that made Satoru fall in love with you in the first place.
After your little proposal to separate, Satoru was heartbroken. He let you go, though. He was certain you’d come to senses, ask for him back eventually. It’s just been a waiting game for him. But now the game is taking too long. The more he waits, the further away you seem to be drifting from him. And now you’ve brought another man into the picture.
That’s the last thing he wants.
Satoru’s eyes track your movements across the shed. It’s fairly well maintained, albeit tiny. There’s a long table facing a small window and a single chair to sit on that you wave at Satoru to sit in. He doesn’t mind. He likes the view as he watches you bend over to open the cooler and rummage through the contents.
It reminds him of how things used to be. Reminds him of the times you’d brought your son to his games together, as a family. Reminds him of home.
The painful squeeze of his heart no longer catches him by surprise. He always feels it whenever he’s near you, whenever he hears your name, whenever he thinks of you. And he’s always thinking of you. 
It’s sick, really. Sometimes Satoru thinks he’s obsessed with you with how often he thinks of you, how often he checks his phone for a message or missed call from you, how often he fucks his hand to the thought of you. He’s not too prideful to admit it. He fucking daydreams about you, goes to sleep hoping you’ll be waiting for him when sleep carries him away.
You’d up and left him out of the blue, asking for a separation, your only reasoning being that you just don’t see a future with him anymore. Then you had the nerve to invite Satoru over only for the occasional booty call, have him damn near fuck you through the bed and slip out the door before sunrise. He didn’t mind the arrangement at first…
…But now you’ve moved on. And Satoru hates the fact that you've been out of his grasp all this time. He loathes that you’ve been in the arms of another man, that you’ve had someone else warming his side of the bed, let someone else taste you, hold you, feel you the way he used to.
You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you. 
“You ever think about giving us another shot?” Satoru asks suddenly. He watches with amusement as you stand, back facing him and shoulders tense.
“Absolutely not,” you answer after a beat.
Satoru’s smile widens. “Why not? I’ve thought about it. Too much, probably.”
"Of course you've thought about it. You didn't leave me, I left you."
"And yet that still didn’t stop you from texting me to come over at 2 in the morning for months after.” Satoru leans forward in his seat, reaching one of his long fingers forward to run along the back of your thigh.
You swiftly slap his hand away and he chuckles. “Yeah, thankfully I don’t need to do that anymore.”
Satoru frowns. So easy to forget you’re seeing someone else when he has you right in front of him. Not that he gives a fuck.
Satoru’s been patient, he thinks, kind even. He’s let you have your fun and date around despite the way his blood boils listening to his son tell him what mommy's been up to lately. Lots of sleepovers with your little friend who's on his way now, apparently. Satoru can't fucking stand it. 
He rises from his seat, closing the gap between you when he slips his arms around your waist. And like always, you melt into his touch, even when you whisper “Satoru” as a warning. You inhale sharply, but don’t move his hands. You let him hold you even when he sits his chin atop your head, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo.
“What?”
“This is…it’s– this is just inappropriate,” you stammer. Your body is betraying you already, giving in so easily to Satoru’s touch like it always does. “You know I have a boyfriend.” You continue moving the fruit around, just to keep yourself busy to try to hide the way your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.
Satoru hums, the vibrations from his chest zipping through your body, igniting goosebumps along your skin. “Yeah, but I know it’s not serious.”
You scoff, a hand coming up to grip Satoru’s wrist when you feel his warm breath ghost across your skin.
“Is it serious?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. He wants to know. He’ll back off if you tell him you’re really into this guy. Well, he might back off. Really depends on his mood.
“It’s…I don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, then it’s not that serious.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear and you suck in a sharp breath.
“Satoru…” You try to chide, but it comes out as more of a pathetic whimper.
Satoru answers with a groan. “You don’t know what it does to me when you say my name like that.” He pushes closer to you, evidence of exactly what you saying his name like that pressed against your back. 
He’s so incredibly hard just from being this close to you again, inhaling your scent, feeling your soft body against his. God, it’s hard to not shove you down onto the table and fuck you now. But, he doesn’t want to scare you off because he knows at any moment you could change your mi–
His thoughts are cut off, a deep groan ripped from his throat when you roll your hips back, grinding your ass against his length.
“Shit…” Satoru sighs, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck the way he knows you like. “Can you feel how much I want you?” He kisses your neck, nipping lightly at the smooth skin and you thrust your hips back harder. “You want me too, huh?”
“Yes!” You moan. You won’t even deny it. You couldn’t if you wanted to. You’re putty in Satoru’s hands and your body moves of its own accord. Satoru rolls his hips into your ass again, groaning loudly as his cock throbs within the confines of his pants. He wants you so bad, it fucking hurts.
“Let me taste you, baby,” Satoru pleads, hands slipping down to play with the waistband of your pants. “I haven’t had you in so long. I miss that pussy more than any–”
“God, you talk so fucking much. Just do it, Satoru,” you whine impatiently. Satoru laughs, kissing your cheek before he’s on his knees.
“Aaaalright.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both your pants and underwear and pulls them down in one swift motion.
Satoru leans back, admiring the view from his spot on his knees. Stunning is the only word appropriate to describe you. Bent over the table with your beautiful bare ass and dripping core exposed for him. His dick throbs painfully in his pants as his eyes focus on exactly where he’s been dreaming of seeing up close and personally for months now. 
And now that he has you for the moment, Satoru wants to enjoy you. He wants to savor you before his time is up. But he can’t help but want to make you squirm before he does, remind you that there will never be another man who can fuck you the way Satoru does. The thoughts only intensify as Satoru palms your ass, kneading the soft flesh just before he leans forward and places soft kisses to the backs of your thighs. He can feel the way your legs tremble in anticipation, how your breath hitches every time he inches a bit closer to where you want him the most. 
Then he’s pulling you back by your thighs, meeting you halfway to latch his hot mouth directly onto your pussy. He doesn’t waste a second, flicking his tongue over your clit right before he sucks the sensitive nub harshly, just the way he knows you like, a broken cry of his name falling from your lips.
A blend of your moans fill the room – yours from finally getting the touch you’ve been craving. Satoru’s from getting to taste you after all this time. The vibrations of Satoru’s moans shoot straight to your core, but the feeling doesn’t last long. He’s gone before you can fully enjoy his touch. You roll your hips back as you desperately search for Satoru’s mouth. You want him to do that again. You want him to devour you right where you stand. But Satoru won’t give that to you just yet. He leans back on his heels again, watching you whine needily, wiggling your ass in his face. 
“You know I love when you scream my name…” he leans forward again, kissing the soft skin of your bottom. “But you don’t want your little boyfriend to hear us, do you?”
Your eyes snap up, peering out of the small, now fogged window of the shed. Sure enough, your boyfriend is standing at the edge of the field. How the fuck did Satoru know he was here? God, he’s so annoying. It’s like he can see through walls or some shit. 
Just when you’re about to speak up, tell Satoru that this is a mistake, you find the only thing leaving your mouth is another desperate whine when Satoru gives your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly. It has your head spinning, mouth falling open with a silent cry as he works his tongue back and forth between your folds.
“Oh my fucking godddd,” you mewl quietly, trying to roll your hips back, find more friction. But Satoru halts your movements with his hands. He runs his tongue, long and slow, over your clit. Your legs shake with every lick. Your heart races with every groan. Satoru is trying to take his time, trying to enjoy the sweet taste of your essence on his tongue. You’ve always tasted like a dream and having you again has his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he buries himself as deep as he can in your cunt and consumes you. 
“Make sure he doesn’t come over here,” Satoru mutters into your pussy. He brings a hand down to hurriedly work his pants open. He pulls his cock out, hissing into your core the moment the cool air touches it. His fingers spread his precum over his swollen length before he wraps hand around himself, stroking slowly. “Fuck.”
You stare outside the window, eyes half-lidded as Satoru absolutely loses himself in you. Your boyfriend scans the field, probably for you since you’re nowhere to be seen. You watch as he pulls out his phone, his fingers moving across the screen. Not even three seconds after he pockets his phone, yours vibrates, but you can’t focus on that when Satoru nips your clit hard and you damn near shriek his name as your orgasm tears through you.
You can hear Satoru panting, hear the way his fist pumps his cock as he drinks up every bit of your release. And then he’s on his feet, his free hand coming up to hold you by your jaw, holding your attention to your boyfriend.
You can barely make him out through the tears forming in your eyes. Satoru places sweet kisses along your face. He presses his cheek to yours, eyes locked on your boyfriend and you whimper when you feel his cock nudge your entrance.
“Be a good girl and keep an eye on him for me,” Satoru requests. “Okay?”
“Okay,” you gasp as Satoru pushes forward. 
He pushes forward, filling you so painfully slow. This is Satoru’s favorite part. He loves feeling the way your walls stretch deliciously to accommodate him, hug him so snugly inside of you. The weight of his cock inside you has you absolutely reeling, thighs shaking as you take all of him, just the way you used to.
You bite your lip, soft whimpers filling the small space as your eyes flutter shut. But Satoru nudges your cheek with his, your eyes snapping open again.
“Ah, ah. Watch him,” he commands through gritted teeth. “Need you to watch your boyfriend while I fuck what’s mine.”
Satoru kisses your cheek sweetly, then gives you about three seconds to adjust to the way he absolutely fills your pussy before he’s moving, bottoming out on every thrust that follows. 
“I could live in your pussy forever,” he groans, cock hardening as he watches you boyfriend wander like a fucking idiot around the sidelines. Satoru holds your face in his hands, squeezing your cheeks a little tighter. “Take me back. I know that fucker doesn’t make you feel the way I do.”
You whine, trying so hard to keep your eyes open while Satoru fucks into you with reckless abandon. The table bangs against the wall loudly and you hope that the noise of the game is enough to cover it up. 
“Take me back, baby,” Satoru begs. “I’ll be good this time.”
You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed. It’s so easy to lose yourself in him, to give him all of you. You want to believe him when he says he’ll change, but history has always proven you wrong. You just don’t work anymore.
Satoru pistons his hips, his cock nudging against a part of your walls that makes you keen.
“I’m so much better for you and you know it.” His hips pick up speed, his hand coming down to grip your hip so tightly you’re sure you’ll have a bruise there tomorrow. “Look at him.” He thrusts into you deeply, grunting in pleasure at the feel of you getting tighter around him as you watch your helpless partner. “He’ll never be able to give you this.” 
Your fingers find your clit and you rub in time with his thrusts and your mouths fall open together, moans escaping the both of you. It’s so hard to keep it down when it feels this fucking good.
Satoru can see your eyes have closed. It’s fine. He’s watching. He sees your boyfriend glance over to the shed, body turning as he makes his way over. His hips slam harder into yours and you bite your lip to hold in yet another scream. 
A part of him regrets asking you to keep it down. On the one hand, he'd love for your new man to hear you screaming his name while he empties his balls inside of you. But on the other hand, an all out brawl at his son's soccer game probably wouldn't look good. Not that he couldn’t take him anyway.
Your boyfriend’s about halfway to the shed when he stops in his tracks, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. He taps the screen, presses the phone to his ear and turns back around. He’ll probably be back soon, Satoru thinks. 
“As much as I love this,” Satoru thrusts into you hard, hitting that delicious spot again and making you whimper. “Need to wrap it up before your loser man comes back.”
You moan, fingers still working your clit as Satoru fucks you with everything he has to offer.  
“I’m never letting you go, you hear me?” He mutters between thrusts. “Your little boyfriend can’t fuck you like this, can’t give you what I can, baby.” It’s less dirty talk and more Satoru whimpering into your ear. “I love you and that’s never gonna change. You’re my wife. My wife. Mine.” 
His declaration of love shocks you, has your eyes rolling back as your orgasm shoots through you, a broken cry of his name ripping from your throat. 
Satoru turns your head, slamming his lips into yours to smother your cries as he pumps into you harder, faster. He grunts loudly into your mouth as he feels his cock pulse hard inside you, a guttural groan emerging from deep within his chest as hot spurts of cum shoot from his cock and paint your walls white with his seed.
You’re both gasping for air, desperately trying to catch your breath as reality sets in.
You just cheated on your boyfriend. You just fucked your ex-husband over a plate of fruit inside of a fucking shed.
That’s how strong of a hold this fucker has on you. You want to say you don’t work together, that Satoru irritates you to the point that you can’t stand to be in the same vicinity as him. In reality, you just have no power when it comes to Satoru. You don’t know why you fight it. It’s stupid to try because you know you wouldn’t be able to resist if you tried.
You sigh, pushing back against Satoru who gently pulls himself out of you with a soft hiss. You pull your pants back up and clear your throat. Outside the window, your boyfriend has returned to the soccer field, still gazing around the area for you.
“I have to go out there.” You tell Satoru. He hums, buttoning his pants.
“Yeah…”
You glance over your shoulder, watching as Satoru takes his seat again. Would it be worth trying with him again? You don’t know, but you do know one thing. Your body calls for him, becomes weak when he’s near. Maybe you’re not actually ready to move on because it doesn’t seem like you can.
Satoru catches you watching him and he beams, running his fingers through his snowy tresses.
“Can I expect to hear from you later tonight?” He questions. He knows the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it. But his eyes widen when you give him the answer he least expected.
“Come home with us after the game. We can talk about…us.”
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matchadobo · 10 months
Note
hi idk if this is an odd request but could you write a shanks x reader where she uses her safeword bc she’s starting to feel bad and he how he comforts her after <3 tysm 🫶
SHANKS; safeword
wc: 834
warning/s: nsfw 🔞, p0rnp0rnp0rn, fluff in the end, afab reader, wrote this in one sitting whabshabah
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you tried clawing at his chest as a sign to tell him to stop, but it seemed as if he took it as a compliment. your cunt felt so numb. you already came and you lost track how many times. shanks loves overstimulating you, that hazy look of lust in your eyes gets him going even more. but you love it too of course, it’s just that, it’s different now. he looks too feral, too hungry, too scary.
“what’s got you so quiet, princess? don’t give up on me now, yeah? you’re taking all of me so well.” he tucked a hair that was starting to stick on your forehead. “already tired, eh?” a smirk made its way to his lips, he loved what he saw. flushed face, parted, drooling lips, and the half-lidded look of sex in your eyes.
the view of him slowly losing himself by the warmth of your folds. it feels so sticky and wet and his cock was throbbing at the clench of your sopping crevice. he loved how red and used your core looked. he’d throw his head back and slick back his sweaty hair, brutally pounding into you. each thrust hitting your cervix that it started choking you.
“t-too much…” you meekly let out, but it was unintelligible to him. he was too lost in the ecstasy of you. your lower half was aching by the minute, like it was going to bleed because of his pace and size.
“s-shanks too much…!” you tried a little louder this time. you couldn’t bellow it out clearly though, your stomach was so heavy. yet he still couldn’t hear it. soon enough, tears formed in your eyes, precariously cascading down your cheeks.
“roses.”
it only took the wetness of your cheeks and the weak sobs of the safeword for the emperor to stop. that flower that filled the fields on where he met you made him remember how delicate you are and how you should be treated. he stiffened up immediately, taking his hand off your throat. his hand immediately clutched your cheek, thumbs wiping off the tears. “oh fuck- baby, sweetheart i’m so sorry.” he pulled you up into his embracd, the look in his eyes much kinder this time. your voice sobering him up instantly. “d-did i squeeze your throat too much? did i bite too hard? t-tell me.”
“are you- where does it hurt?” he pulled away, searching for any noticeable sign of hurt on your body and eyes. he was still in you though, he figured it’d hurt more if he pulled out right away.
“just my cunt that you abused.” you sarcastically remarked, laughing meekly through teary eyes.
“jesus, i’m so sorry. i was- i'm fucking stupid. you just felt so good, and i’m so tired, and i needed you. i’m just- sorry i went too far, darling.” he panicked. suddenly, the big, scary emperor was now pouting before you. “y-yeah, let’s stop here.” he lied you down, slowly pulling out while carefully watching if your face contorted in any pain.
aaand the goofy shanks you fell in love to was now back, not that cunt hungry motherfucker earlier (but that works too, sometimes 😝). he soon ran a cold bath for you, cleaning you up. he distracted you with his funny stories, reveling on how you smile and how your cries fade away.
he’d usually take you out by the deck, let you clung on his arm to help you walk. you two’d settle by the edge of the ship, he’ll grab a pillow for you to sit on while your feet hang loosely above the flowing current, and he’d have a protective arm around your waist. the comforting blues and the salty air would relax the both of you, he’d place his chin on your shoulders and revel in your fragrant body wash and natural scent.
“i’m really sorry, love.” he mumbled, bashfully looking down. “have i really not hurt you?” the look of pure concern in his ruby eyes made you remember why you fell in love with him again.
“just a little but, that’s why we have a safe word, right? i understand, love. don’t worry about it.” you tuck a hair hanging by the side of his face on his ear.
“i-i’ll take you to hongo later.”
you couldn’t help but play it off with a nod as your fingers softly brush by his scarred cheek. during the visit with hongo, shanks had his head hung low with his hand behind him sheepishly when hongo confirmed that you were just overfucked and you were totally fine.
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so i got sick again fml buuuut to the person who requested this, i aM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LMFAO 🥺 like i said, i don't want to release shit half-baked and tonight was the only night i felt the mood with this man 😏 sooo i hope this makes you happy 😩 even tho it's so short!!
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miuszn · 1 year
Note
ellie x reader where ellie comes home after patrol (or after college class if u like modern!ellie more) and sees you wearing one of her shirts with only panties underneath and she gets a littleee feral 🥹
i’m so into you
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SETTING : jackson ( canon universe before joel’s death , or not , up to u !! )
RATING : 18+
WC : 2203
WARNINGS : overstimulation , kinda vanilla ? , fingering ( r!recieving ) , oral ( r!recieving ) , top!ellie , she calls u princess , not proofread
NOTES : hii .. so sorry this took so long !! pls forgive me i’ve been so busy 🥹🫶 the end is a liiiiittle bit half assed bc i was trying rlly hard to finish this and i feel like i’m gonna have writers block soon so i was getting out as much as i could before that. so pls forgive me ik the aftercare isn’t too thought out i was trying to come up w stuff i promise but i just couldn’t . anyway . if this was ur request , i hope u enjoy !! i rlly liked this idea i got to writing it right away eheh
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
ellie had a long and tiring day on patrol. it was one of those days she had been unfortunately assigned to one of the areas that had the most infected to clear out, and while it wasn’t a difficult task for her, it was most definitely not something she enjoyed doing either. not only that, but she had to cover for jesse almost immediately after getting back to jackson since he had caught a really bad cold, which meant she was pretty much out the entire day. while this wasn’t something common, it was something that happened every once in a while and it was never enjoyable for her nor for you. of course you understood she had a job to do, but you always dreaded these days where she had more to do than usual.
it was sunset, and you decided to take a quick shower before it got dark. you realized none of your clothes you washed had dried yet, so you decided to just throw on one of ellie’s t-shirts and thought you’d simply figure it out tomorrow. night fell and you started to worry about whether your girlfriend would get back safely, while you knew for sure she’d be fine, there was always that thought in the back of your mind that made you worry. you decided to just watch a movie to get your mind off it and stop worrying about her. you scanned through the collection of dvd’s ellie had stored and wondered how she even managed to get so many. you didn’t think about it too much and grabbed a random one, since you weren’t gonna watch the whole thing anyway, and sat down.
it wasn’t long before ellie finally got home, and you stood up excitedly to greet her as soon as she came through the door. you hugged her and gave her a peck on the cheek, happy that she made it back home safe.
“you were out all day,” you complained, “i missed you so much.”
“m’ sorry babe,” she apologized, “had to cover for jesse. the guy got sick again, i don’t know how the hell he even manages to get sick so often.”
“well, what’s important is you’re here and your safe. i was worried about you, you know?”
“you don’t have to worry about me,” she brushed you off, “i’m fine, see?”
you playfully rolled your eyes and pulled away, that’s when she finally got a good look at you and she realized you were only wearing a t-shirt. her t-shirt. she knew you knew she struggled to control herself whenever she saw you in her clothing, regardless of how many times she might complain about having nothing to wear after you use them all. but you hadn’t thought about that when you just threw it on, in fact, you pretty much completely forgot about all that.
ellie wasn’t sure on wether or not she was gonna make a move, she wasn’t sure if you were in the mood and didn’t want to make thinks awkward. she figured you would just want to spend some time with her after she’d been out all day, and nothing beyond cuddling and some kisses. regardless, she decided to test the waters.
you both sat down back on the couch and continued watching the movie. you gave ellie a short summary of what had happened so far so she would understand what was going on in the movie, but little did you know she wasn’t interested in the movie. her eyes were on you.
a few minutes into the movie, she put her hand on your waist and gently pulled you closer to her, and then rested her hand on your thigh. whew. you loved it when she did little things like that, it turned you on whenever she showed hints of possessiveness no matter how small, and she knew this. that’s exactly why she was doing it. she was trying to see how long it would take for you to crack, how long it would take for you to beg her to touch you. although you felt a little heat from the small gesture, you weren’t aware that was her intention. you didn’t think much of it, as it was something she did often and it might’ve simply been out of habit.
about 10 more minutes passed by and ellie realized that hadn’t been enough. she noticed the goosebumps on your skin from the cold, and saw there was a small blanket on the end of the couch on her left, so she reached and grabbed it.
“you cold?” she asked.
“yeah,” you replied. “not a lot though, it’s fine.”
“we can use this blanket,” she suggested, “it’s kinda small though. wonder how we can share it.”
“maybe.. i can sit on your lap?” you responded, not considering the implications she might get from it. of course, she agreed. now she was one step closer to having you exactly how she wanted you. she let her hands wander around and finally rested them on your waist. she started placing gentle kisses behind your neck and on your shoulders, and you finally caught on to what she was trying to do.
“ellie..”
“hm?” she didn’t stop what she was doing.
in that moment you remembered how much she loves you wearing her shirts. you hadn’t put thought into it when you first put it on, but now it was all starting to make sense “i know what you’re trying to do..” you said.
“n’ what’re you gonna do about it, princess?” she said, playful smirk tugging on her lips. she knows how much you like that nickname. it turns you on, and she knows it. she moved your leg slightly, parting your legs so your cunt would be directly on her leg, the only barrier being her jeans and your panties. held your waist a little tighter and started slightly and slowly moving you back and forth, stimulating your clit through the thin cloth of your panties with the friction of her rubbing you against her leg, causing you to let out a few whimpers and soft moans. while the rough fabric of her jeans rubbing against your clit, your panties providing little protection, felt a little uncomfortable, it was something you could overlook. she kept moving your hips back and forth for a moment before stopping and removing one of her hands from your waist and moving it to your inner thigh. she placed it there for a second, then slowly moved it up your crotch and lightly tugged on your panties.
“may i?”
you nodded, and she swiftly removed them and threw them somewhere on the floor. she teasingly slid a finger along your slit, making you softly moan at the contact of her cold fingers against your warm skin.
“wow, barely touched you n’ you’re already so wet. aren’t you embarassed?”
you bit your lip and looked down, trying to contain
the noises that wanted to escape your mouth. after a few moments of her sliding her finger along your slit to tease you, you started to get fed up and needed more.
“els, please..”
“hm? please what, baby?”
“please.. fuck me already..”
“you’re gonna have to try a lil’ harder than that, pretty girl.” she smirked, and started rubbing circles on your clit. she didn’t want to give you what you wanted immediately, she wanted to have a bit of fun with you first.
“ellie, please, f-fuck.. please fuck me..” you begged.
“hmm.. alright princess, i will.”
she slid a finger inside you and started gently thrusting it in and out of you. she went at a slower pace, and she was doing it on purpose. she loved teasing you, especially when you got all whiney and started begging her to do more. it didn’t take long before you started to get impatient from the small amount of stimulation she was giving you.
“too little..” you blurted out.
“oh?” she poorly pretended to be surprised by your remark. “is it really?”
“y-yes.. please.. more..”
“you sure you want more?” she chuckled. “can you handle it?”
you nodded, just so desperate to feel more. she slid another finger in you and pumped them in and out at a faster pace, curling them to hit your sweet spot causing you to moan louder and more than you previously were. soon enough, she felt your walls clench around her fingers and she knew you were close. she kept thrusting her fingers in and out of you, but started using her free hand to rub circles on your clit, causing you to whine from the overstimulation. she realized this and started to tease you.
“what happened, tough girl? didn’t you say you could handle it?”
“ah.. ellie..” you whined.
“you sound so pretty like this. all whiny n’ such a mess from me touchin’ you. so cute. and no one gets to see you like this except for me.”
“i’m..”
“i know, princess. cum for me.”
and almost on cue, you did. you thought that was it, but she lifted you with ease and laid you down on the couch, discarding the blanket you guys had been sharing until now. you were still sensitive from the orgasm you just had, so you thought ellie was done. but you were far from right. you looked over to your panties that were on the floor thinking you were about to put them back on, but it’s as if she read your mind and said,
“you won’t need those for now.”
you looked at her a little confused.
“what, you think i’m done with you?” she chuckled, getting on the couch and positioning her head between your legs, gently forcing them open. “we’re not done ‘till i say we’re done. got it?”
“w-wait, ellie, i’m still-“
she gave you a long lick to tease you, which caused you to moan.
“sensitive?” she finished your sentence for you. “even better.”
with that, she started to eat you out as if you were her last meal, and she was not being gentle at all. she didn’t give two shits that you were still sensitive. in fact, it turned her on even more hearing your loud moans and heavy breaths, and seeing the small tears that flowed from your eyes due to the overstimulation as she licked you and sucked on your clit mercilessly. she then slid in two fingers, again, continuing to stimulate your clit with her mouth as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace while curling them with every thrust. you felt like you were in heaven, but at the same time, felt like you were in hell. it was a little painful, but you didn’t mind a little bit of pain because it was overshadowed by the pleasure you were feeling. you felt your mind go blank, all you could feel was ellie mercilessly fucking you with her mouth and fingers. at one point you ended up losing track of all the times you came due to the intense feeling and only came to your senses once she was done. she gave you a few moments to cool down, and when you finally snapped back to reality, she was caressing your face and watching closely to make sure you were fine.
“you did so good, baby,” she praised. “was i.. uh.. was i too rough?”
“a little,” you answered honestly, “but it was okay. i loved it.”
“you sure? was it painful at all?”
“a little, but i enjoyed it. i’m fine. don’t worry about it.”
“if i’m ever being too rough, just tell me to stop, ‘kay?” she reminded you, “i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“ellie, it’s fine,” you insisted. “what was that all about anyway?”
“well, you know,” she broke eye contact. “i just couldn’t resist you. you look so fucking sexy whenever you wear my clothes. you drive me crazy.”
“i wasn’t really thinking about it when i put it on..” you admitted, “but i’m glad you like it. maybe i’ll steal your clothes more often.”
“i’d be happy having barely any clothes to wear if it means i get to see you wearing mine.”
she helped you off the couch, and insisted on carrying you due to your weak legs even though you’d be able to walk to the bed.
“i think i need another shower..” you said once you looked in the mirror and realized how sweaty you are.
“i can get a warm bath running for you,” ellie offered, “if you want i can bring you some snacks or a book while you’re in there.”
“it’s fine-“
“i insist,” she said. “just relax and lay here until it’s ready, okay? i don’t mind doin’ it. i got you like this anyway.”
“ellie..”
you smiled at her and finally accepted. she never once let you do anything like this yourself, especially not after she had been a little rough with you, she needed to make sure you were fine, and she liked taking care of you. and she might not say it often, but she really loves you.
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emmyrosee · 4 months
Note
Only write this if u want to and with whoever u want.
But y/n has been depresso expresso these past few weeks she can’t get out of bed, she’s not been answering calls or texts and whenever she does she’s declining requests to hang out or come over….and her boyfriend had been missing her. So he just shows up spontaneously and rings the doorbell and she opens the door and she stares at him and then BURSTS into tears. BC GUESS WHAT ur grieving ur broke ur periods here u have assignments due next week that u haven’t even started and ur just so overwhelmed…. But Ofc u didn’t want ur boyfriend to see u like this u look messy right now. BUTTT Ofc ur boyfriend couldn’t care less and takes care of u anyway and brings u outside for fresh air and takes u for some ice cream at the 24 hr convince store nearby even though he doesn’t even like Ice cream that much but u have been craving something sweet and cold so why wouldn’t he 🥹
SO ANYWAY THANKS DOR READING LOVE U SO MUCH HAVE A GREAT NIGHT, EVENING OR DAY ❤️
-Anon🥢
The gentle knocking against your door has your brow raising and your show pausing. You’re not used to having guests at this hour, much less guests at all, and you wrap yourself in a blanket to get up and greet the person at the door.
You check the peephole. Osamu stands outside, playing on his phone.
Your heart sinks at the idea of him seeing you like this, seeing you so drained and so tired, but you can’t ignore him or send him away, either. You shrug the blanket higher on your shoulders and you open the door, trying to ignore the way his face lights up as you open it. “Hey,” you murmur.
“Hey,” he whispers, hands digging around the plastic bag in his hand, pulling out a bag of gummy bears. “I brought gummy bears.”
You don’t know why- Honest!- but your eyes water and your lip wobbles and you absolutely throw yourself into his chest, his arms expertly catching you and cradling you while you absolutely wail. You fist his shirt as your sobs wrack your soul. He doesn’t say anything, merely pressing kisses to your head and rocking you both gently. “I’m sorry,” you heave.
He shushes you softly, “don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
“I missed you so much,” you sob, and he hums in agreement. “Osamu, I’m so tired, I can’t bring myself to do anything, what’s wrong?”
“You’re in your head,” he says quietly, pulling back to wipe a tear that falls from your eye. “And that’s okay. You’ve been working so hard, it’s totally normal to be a bit burnt out, baby. You’ve got a lot going on.” He smiles softly at you, “but this is your sign to be pampered for a little bit, okay? You trust me?”
You sniffle a few more times before nodding, curling back into his chest to feel the tightness of his embrace circle you once again. He says nothing, he does nothing, merely letting you cry it out in his arms, with the occasional kiss to the crown of your head. Once you’ve tuckered yourself out, you pull back to look at him once again, only to laugh at the imprint of your crying face on his shirt. “Sorry,” you manage between sniffly laughter.
“It’s fine,” he snorts. “It’ll dry. Now-“ he nudges his head towards the door, “go lock up, and we can run to 7/11 for some ice cream.”
The mere idea makes your heart sing, but you pout up at him, “you don’t like ice cream though?”
“I’ll get chips. I know you’re going to steal some anyways, so I don’t mind,” he chuckles. For the first time in weeks, you feel yourself perk up, the idea of something sweet and cold tingling your tastebuds in ways you haven’t felt since losing your appetite. You move quicker than you have in days, turning off the tv and locking your door, only for osamu to catch you and wrap you in his big arms. You giggle as he catches under your knees and spins you into a bridal carry, and you wrap your arms around him instinctively.
He places you gingerly in the passenger seat, careful of your head and legs before closing the door and making his way to the drivers side. You smirk and lean over to honk the horn to scare him, cackling as he leaps a foot in the air, his face curling into one of mischief as he shakes his head. He gets in the car, “I’m getting you back for that.”
“Try me,” you tease.
The ride to 7/11 is just as fun, with his hand on your thigh and the windows down while music plays through the speakers. The sun is setting, casting a hue of pink over the horizon and objects on it, and it’s almost amusing how the 7/11 looks ethereal carved in pink.
Four bags of chips, a bag of m’n’m’s and three ice creams later, you check out of the store and make your way back to the car, each of you indulging in your ice creams before they melt into goo.
You sigh and look up at him, “are we going home?”
“Do you want to?”
He looks over at you warmly, laying his tongue flat to slurp up a lap of ice cream. You snicker and shrug, “not… not really. I mean… I haven’t been outside in weeks, and it feels so good.”
“Then we don’t go home,” he says simply, taking a bite of his cone. “I think the moon is full tonight, so we can go watch the sunset finish, look for the moon?”
You beam up at him, “I’d love that.”
He nods, “I thought you might.”
It takes only 5 minutes to find a park suitable to situate at, your fingers now dug into a bag of Doritos as he parks the car and nudges his head, “come on. We can set up in the trunk.”
“Trunk?”
“Yeah,” he encourages, and you merely shrug and follow his example of getting out of the car. He pops the trunk and plops himself down, patting the seat next to him. “I don’t have a blanket we can lay down on, so this will have to do.”
“Why don’t you lay on the dirt and I’ll lay on you?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes while you laugh. “I thought you were chivalrous, Osamu.”
“I’m not getting a tick because you’re too fancy to sit in a trunk,” he teases, and you shake your head playfully before sitting in the trunk next to him. You rest your head on his shoulders, and he reaches in the bag for a dorito, his head laying down to rest on yours.
And it’s quiet. Comfortably quiet, with a warm hand resting on your knee with his thumb rolling over the bone lovingly, a bag of crumpled Doritos tossed somewhere behind you. The sun has set half an hour ago, but you’re both too entranced by the bright moon hanging low in the sky to move. Bugs come to life as they chirp, and streetlights pop on around the park.
It’s bliss.
It’s amazing how much the fresh air has brought you back, how much Osamu brought you back, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.
“‘Samu?”
“Yeah baby?”
“I love you.”
He kisses your head, “I love you too, baby.” Then he sighs, and you feel the arm wrapped lowly around you trail up your side, and your lip twitches. “Now, about the whole honking at me thing-“
“No!” You squeal as five fingers dig into your side, holding you close as you squirm at the tickling, your laughter ringing in the air of night that envelops you both like a hug.
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