#I would think you were lying LMFAO

[sugaryalpacas]

thinking about the quote where Jim Cary’s character is like “being gay is expensive” bc I recently acquired/rekindled new gay person hobbies -> crocheting and cosplaying. However,,,, it is sapping my wallet LMAO

[metaldevilll]

cosplaying glen sounds so fun(ny) bru but iam not making a fucking SHARPIE BATH

[tonycries]

Three's a Crowd (But Four...) - G.S.

Synopsis. “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, foursome (but they’re all Satoru + you LMFAO), NSFW, unprotected sex, double penetration, spit-roasting, face-sitting, doggy, missionary, anal, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), overstimulation (female), swearing, slight breeding kink, cum (like lots).

Word count. 3.0k 

A/N. A lil' sum while I get on with a 10k arranged marriage fic. H O R N Y >>> actual JJK technicalities. 

Jokes, but idc what that technique was, I took that one chapter and ran with it. Art by @_3aem on X.

Cross-posted on AO3

“They just nerfed Naruto in Boruto cuz they knew he’d be too DILF-y.”

“Amen.” 

Sprawled out on Satoru’s couch, both of you were fixated on the Naruto episode playing on-screen. It wasn’t anything new for a Friday night. His soft hairs tickling your chin, and legs dangling off the other end of the couch as he lay atop, cuddling you like a 6’3 housecat. 

Times like this, it’s easy to forget that your boyfriend constantly bears the burden of being “the strongest”. That is- until Satoru, eyes still locked onto the screen, speaks up “I can do that too, y’know.”

You turn to look at Satoru, “Do what?”

He nods his head towards the screen - now showing young Naruto mastering his iconic technique. “You could call it Shadow Clone Jutsu.” he hums.

Raising a brow, “So you could make tens of thousands of Satoru clones? The world may never know rest.”

Eyes brimming with smugness, he grins “Something like that.”

You cock your head, wanting to know more, “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?”

“Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” he wiggles his brows in a way that would definitely be creepy if it was anyone but Satoru.

“You wish.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, before going back to using your breasts as his personal cushions. “Not quite clones or holograms, they’re still me. But also not really, y’know?” he murmurs.

“Ahh. No.”

The conversation dwindles into a comfortable silence.

Or so you’d think. But the air was charged with something, and - knowing Satoru - you had an inkling it didn’t bode well for you down there.

As quickly as you suspected, he turns the TV off and turns to you with twinkling eyes.

“Toru...” you reproach.

He whines dramatically, “Come onnnn. Don’t they say the best way to learn is hands-on experience?”

“You just have ulterior motives, Toru.” 

“Hell yeah, I do.” he mutters into the valley of your breasts. Satoru peeks at you through his thick lashes, eyes bright with mischief. 

How could you say no to those eyes? And, well, you’d be lying if you said that the idea of multiple Satorus didn’t make your pussy clench in excitement.

That’s how you found yourself here.

Shirts thrown across the room and splayed out on Satoru’s overpriced silk bed sheets. You gasp in pleasure as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he rocks into you, pushing you deeper into the plush bed. Your pussy drips with anticipation as you feel the outline of his rock-hard cock straining against his sweatpants.

Hooking two fingers under your waistband, he swiftly pulls off your panties along with your shorts. “Already so wet and ready f’me…” he groans out. Quickly shuffling your bodies around, “C’mon sweetheart.” 

Now, Satoru knows he has a pretty face - too well, in fact, he uses it to his advantage to get his way with you too much. And he thinks there’s nothing that makes his face prettier than you on it.

It’s why he has you bent over and straddling his head. The tighter you squeeze him, the better.

One arm holds you in place while the other spreads your folds. Satoru teases your entrance with a finger, gathering your wetness before popping it into his mouth. He groans sinfully as he tastes you. “Fuck- always so good for me.”

You slowly put your weight onto him, failing against the strong arm that pulls you to sit on him properly. 

Satoru moans around your cunt as he finally dives nose-deep into it. Languidly, he licks long stripes against your folds, purposefully catching your clit in the process. “Hah- Fuck. Toru, more!”

Satisfied with your whines, he finally slides his tongue inside your dripping pussy, fucking you with his mouth till his cock twitches for friction.

You notice, and urgently shuffle his sweatpants down. Satoru’s cock stands achingly hard, precum dripping enticingly along the vein on the side of it. You lean down to kiss the shaft, delighting in his noises that send vibrations down to your clit. 

As you take his blushing red head into your mouth, Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt.

You arch your back further into his face - moaning around his thick cock. He starts fucking into your mouth steadily, forcing you to take more and more of his length. Drool drips down the corners of your mouth, “Mmm Toru- Feels so good.”

If one Satoru makes you feel this good…what would two feel like?

As if reading your mind - you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually could - Satoru pulls away slightly, ropes of spit still connecting him to you.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, hot breath making your cunt quiver.

And before you can respond, the hairs on your body raise as the air stills with the crackle of jujutsu. You remove yourself from Satoru’s cock with a wet pop! Looking up to see…those cerulean eyes. 

Another set.

“Toru…” you drone out, turning behind to glare at Satoru - who was now placing innocent kisses to your dripping pussy. His eyes peek out with visible amusement, “Jus’ say the word and I’ll stop.”

Satoru knew he had you cornered. He’d fully felt the way your walls clenched around his tongue once you saw the other version of him. This was going to be fun.

Harshly rolling his tongue against your clit, he lightly smacks your ass - signaling you to pay attention to the other Satoru in front of you now. 

So you do.

It was quite surreal seeing an exact copy of your boyfriend grinning down devilishly at you. He cups the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, pretty. It’s jus’ me.” 

At first, you were unsure of what to do, the only thing you know being that - clone or not - this one was just as well-endowed as your boyfriend.

Experimentally, you press soft kisses to his hot tip, relishing in his drawn-out groan. You take him in deeper, tonguing the slit in the way you knew your boyfriend liked. “Yeah- Jus’ like that.”

He tightens his grip on your head. Pumping your Satoru with one hand, you use the other to steady yourself as your mouth gets used as the other’s own personal fucktoy. 

Shit. This was heaven.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull away, “Hngh- Toru, feels so fucking good.” Mewling at the stimulation on your cunt as well as the depravity of the act, you grind your hips deeper into Satoru’s mouth - searching for your high. 

Soon, you feel that familiar snap in your stomach. Satoru uses his fingers to spread your lips as you cum all over his tongue. He laps up your juices with lewd squelching sounds as his clone fucks your face deeper. Nose meeting his snowy white pubes and balls hitting your chin, you choke from both the position and Satoru’s relentless tongue. 

“Yeah, cum all over my tongue, sweetheart.”

You ride out your high on Satoru’s pretty face, slick spreading all over his mouth and nose. With a final kiss to your cunt, he shifts your legs and moves to tower over from behind. 

Removing yourself from the other’s cock, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend sensually pumping himself, readying to enter your eager pussy.

“Hey now, eyes on me, pretty.” A long finger moves your chin so that you face the Satoru in front of you. Seems that no matter what, every Satoru was a little possessive over you.

He rubs his dripping tip on your face, smearing his precum as a gloss before fucking into your mouth once more. 

Almost at the same time, Satoru fully rams his cock inside your pussy without any warning, tip kissing your cervix.

 “Shit. Always taking me in so good, sweetheart.” he huffs out as your walls flutter around his length.

You groan loudly around the cock in your mouth, partly from the pain of being unprepared and partly from the pleasure of getting what you wanted the most - both ends filled by your loving boyfriend.

Your eyes were dazed as you stare doe-eyed up at the Satoru that was plunging into your mouth mercilessly - the other fucking your hole at a similar pace. Strangled yelps leave your mouth as his balls sinfully slap against your clit. 

The room fills with loud, wet noises, and the slapping of skin. Both Satorus hunch over you in pleasure, muscles rippling. Your cunt quivers in an almost-animalistic way at the small grunts falling from their pretty lips.

You whine as he finds that one spot inside you which makes you see stars every time his hips meet yours. One hand - you were too far gone to recognize whose - reaches under you to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Tears spring to your eyes at the sheer overstimulation, and you rock your hips to meet his powerful cadence. One of your hands reaches for the other’s hip for stability, nose meeting his pelvis nails dragging along the soft skin. He grips your hair tighter, lips bitten and swollen at the stimulation.

From the way your pussy was clenching, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were cumming again.

Now, throughout his life, Satoru has been called crazy many times. Crazy powerful, crazy handsome (in front of the mirror), and just downright mad. But it’s right about now - watching as you choke and cry around his own dick as he plows into you from behind - that he truly thinks he just might actually be a little crazy.

Slowing to shallow rocks, he focuses on his technique. 

Satoru basks in amusement when your whines of disappointment at his slowing pace die down as you register the tugging and sucking on your nipples from below.

You gasp as you break away from the Satoru in front of you and look down, breath catching in your chest as you realize that your boyfriend has conjured up another clone of himself. 

He was going to be the death of you.

“Pay attention, sweetheart.” you hear from behind you as Satoru starts up his relentless rhythm once more, hand now moving to squeeze and spread your ass. 

You knew where this was going, and you didn’t mind it one bit.

The stretch of your cunt as it adapted to Satoru’s length burned almost as much as your nipples as his clone continued to bite and tease them. “Feels good, babe?” he sighs around your breasts. Yet your whines of pleasure are quickly muffled by the flushed tip kissing your lips once more. 

“Hope you didn’t forget about me, pretty.” 

“More- Hngh, Toru!” you whine, not sure which Satoru you were addressing anymore . All three of them speed up their motions, the pleasure from all points pushing you over the edge.

You as you cum fast and hard. 

But your Satoru(s) don’t let you have a moment’s rest as your orgasm is quickly overshadowed by your boyfriend’s hands on your ass. Teasingly drawing circles around the rim. You shiver, hole quivering at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting you. 

His cock still ramming into your abused cunt, Satoru enters a finger into your ass. Using his spit and your slick from before to stretch you out till he’s satisfied. “Fuck- Taking me so good, sweetheart.” he moans out at the sight of you being stretched out from all ends by him and only him.

You continue mewling as the pleasure overtakes you. He was going to ruin you.

Half-delirious from all the stimulation, you barely hear the lowly “Ready, babe?” from below you before Satoru pulls out and suddenly you’re flipped. Easily manhandled by your boyfriend, your head lolls against his replica’s strong shoulder as you’re caressed from three sides once more.

“Feeling alright, sweetheart?” your boyfriend rasps from above. Now hot and bothered once more from how your loving boyfriend was using you like a ragdoll, you gasp out “Yeah, Toru. Need you so bad.”

“Oh yeah?” he grins, lining himself up with your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how badly you want me in all your tight lil’ holes.”

You choke out a sob at the way your Satoru was teasing your folds with his thick cock. “So bad- Need you so bad Toru. Want you to fill me up everywhere.” 

Arching your back, you grind your ass against the furiously hard cock prodding at your asshole. Hearing choked gasps from below you, your pussy clenches in anticipation around nothing. To Satoru, your arousal is almost palpable - as strong as the cursed technique in the air surrounding you two.

And that seems to be what finally makes Satoru snap before he sheathes himself entirely in your dripping cunt. Your strangled moans are cut off by the other Satoru slowly bullying himself into your other hole.

“Ah- Ah!” you yelp in both pain and pleasure as you’re stretched to your limits. You feel full. So full. You were going to snap - like a rubber band - and your boyfriend was going to be reveling in his success. The man in question furrows his brows, groaning at the sweet feeling of his pretty lil’ girlfriend being so tight.

A single tear streaming down your face is gently brushed away as a pair of muscular thighs come to rest beside your face. “Shhh, pretty. You can take it.”  

Both of them start moving carefully.

Satoru would never admit it, but feeling his own dick stretch you out twofold has been a little fantasy tucked in a deep, dark corner of his mind ever since he realized the nefarious purposes his technique could be used for.

He could feel his other version pumping into you from behind as he ruts into your cunt mindlessly. The friction mixed with the gummy wetness of your pussy was mind-blowing - fuck, he really should have watched Naruto with you sooner.

Satoru gazes at you through half-lidded eyes as you press kittenish pecks to his clone’s cock above you. You stare right into your boyfriend’s eyes as you take the length into your mouth once more, inch by inch. Nose meeting his pelvis.

Shit. Satoru feels like he could pass out - whether from seeing the sinful image of all your holes filled by him or from the excessive use of his cursed technique, he doesn’t question. Your walls flutter, struggling to take him both.

Fuck, he really feels like he’s gonna explode.

Satoru pulls out fully before harshly thrusting into you once more, keeping up a pace that has his abs burning and you struggling for air. He sees another tear fall delicately down your cheek.

“My girl takes me so well, huh? Fuck. Made jus’ for me, sweetheart.”

The air was stagnant with the smell of sex and jujutsu. 

All three Satorus thrust into you fiercely, the bed creaking furiously. Satoru has half a mind to worry about whether it would break down in the middle of all this. How inconvenient that would be, he’s so close. 

It was animalistic, the way you could just sit there and take it as your boyfriend used you in all sorts of ways you never deemed possible. 

You’re pretty sure your body is completely bruised and raw at this point. Eyes fluttering shut, tears cling to your lashes as you’re filled up. Your brain, as well as your holes, were overwhelmed with only Satoru Satoru Satoru. If your mouth wasn’t suckling on his length, you’re sure you’d be screaming loud enough for Satoru’s neighbor’s to file a noise complaint.

Good. So good.

Feeling that sharp tug on your stomach again, your legs flail as you steadily reach your climax. Held down by three sets of large hands - all caressing you relentlessly in various ways - you finally cum with an exhausted whimper.

Brain foggy and eyes unfocused, you barely feel the twitch of Satoru’s cock. 

With a throaty moan, all three versions of your boyfriend cum - not one pulling out. Your senses are overtaken as Satoru doesn’t relent his pace, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.

Ah- He felt he was gonna fuck another Gojo into you. Carry on his legacy. Shut those old cows up about a Gojo heir.

You’d look so round and beautiful with his kids. 

“Only I get to cum in this pussy.” he drawls out as he keeps rutting his sensitive cock into you. Low whines get stuck in his throat as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls coated in his semen. His other versions were also at their limit, shooting out thick streams of cum to paint your face and ass. 

You were so beautiful like this. Fucked out and covered in his seed. 

His and only his.

As you slowly come to your senses, the first thing you feel is wet. Not from your own slick, but from Satoru’s thick cum - it was everywhere, decorating your lips, your tits, all the way down to your holes below. 

The second thing you feel is raw. You weren’t too sure anymore that you’d be able to make it to that family dinner tomorrow, Satoru had absolutely gone all out tonight. 

Laying there, willing yourself to move, you flinch as something soft and wet touches your legs. “Shhh…easy there, sweetheart. Get some rest, I’ll take care of it.” you hear the soothing whisper of your one and only boyfriend. 

You muster up the strength to look up and see his gentle smile. “Rest.” he breathes out as he continues to wipe you down. In the back of your mind you register the distinct lack of the other presences of your boyfriend.

“T-Toru...” you were too fucked up to formulate proper sentences.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

At his tender whispers, you easily drift into a fatigued sleep. You dream of shadow clones and blue, blue skies. 

Waking up after your brief nap, you find yourself dressed and cuddled by Satoru on a fresh set of sheets. “You okay?” he mutters in-between innocent pecks to your bruised lips.

At your affirmative nod, he probes further “Learn anything about my technique?”

“Absolutely not.” you sigh, pulling him in closer. As you snuggle into the crook of his neck, you almost miss the devious grin spreading across his face.

“Then…wanna try six next time?”

A/N. No Part 2 till I figure out better ways to differentiate these bitches LMAO.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kissforyouu]

i love you — a compilation !

warnings : suggestive content + explicit language + mention of substances

authors note : i had so much fun writing the Roblox part lmfao (from personal experience unfortunately😅😅) I hope y’all enjoy the rest of the fic :)) HAPPY V DAY MY LOVES!!!! ❤️❤️

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ giving him a note saying “don’t smile if you want toe curling sucky sucky tonight”

You excitedly giggle over the folded piece of paper held in between your fingers, thinking to yourself of what your boyfriends reaction would be.

You saw people on TikTok do this trend, and here you thought, yeah why not try this on Jungkook. You were gonna give him sucky sucky anyways^^

“Get back in bed…”, Jungkook groans from his room, patting your side of his bed. Your back is turned to him and bent over as you write the little text on the paper. “Nevermind, stay there bent over and you’re getting instant backshots, okay?” He laughs.

You snort, turning around now. You don’t say anything, stay fully silent, but walk towards him.

“Mmf, finally.” Your boyfriend sighs in pleasure from just having you close to him. He blinks rapidly, breathing heavily. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t geeking a little right now, having already smoked some weed earlier. So he was a little a high, perfect setting for the little bomb you’re gonna drop on him.

You don’t speak, but hand over the neatly folded piece of paper to him. Jungkook looks at you confused, eyebrow raising a little. He adjusts himself on the bed, sitting up to read it. You try holding in your laugh.

Jungkook, high, tries to read the text on the paper. He giggles, reading out loud, “If…you want…toe curling?” He looks at you with a smirk “—sucky sucky? …tonight, don’t…smile…”

He smiles, what I had written not registering in his head yet. He takes a few seconds to process it, and suddenly, his big giddy smile drops. Jungkook’s entire body turns stiff and he straightens himself. He clearly his throat, eyes landing somewhere else in the room.

He sucks in his cheeks, attempting to make a serious face.

“My love, you look like handsome squidward when you do that”, you giggle, holding his face by both of your hands.

Jungkook cracks out a laugh, immediately breaking his composure. It wasn’t even that funny, but he’d always find everything funny when he’s high. He giggles his way through, crumbling the piece of paper in his hand.

“Be for real, that was not funny”, you laugh at the geeked out man in front of you. “You lost the game though. You’re laughing.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stiffens his posture and clears his voice. He’s back to acting serious again, which made you slap his face jokingly.

“You’ve lost already!” But he shakes his head in deny. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh U”— you shut him up with a kiss.

“I’ll still give you sucky sucky because you’re my good boy, okay?” You palm his hard on through his boxers.

“Hey, I’m the dominant here!”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ JK getting mad at his girlfriend whenever she buys things with her own money.

“I missed your cute ass room.” He said with a beaming smile on his face.

“You were here last week, idiot.” You slap the back of his head.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“I miss you even when you’re with me, I miss you always, you know that.”

“Corny.” You laugh at him.

“I know you like that shit.” Jungkook pokes your waist, then a small kiss on your shoulder.

He examines your room as if he’s never been there. But then, pauses.

“Where’d you get this from?,” he walks over to your newly bought expensive white fur caught hanging in your closet.

Jungkook had almost each and every single clothing piece of yours memorised. Mainly because he’s bought almost all of them for you. But this one, certainly, he did not buy.

“Uhh, the store…” you bite your lip.

“What store?”

“Heh.” You knew where he was as going with this.

“Heh? Yeah? What store?” He questions again.

“‘Kay, I’m sorry.” You frown.

“I hate when you don’t use my card. I’ve given you my BLACK card, Y/n. You really can buy anything, big or small. Don’t piss me off.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he leans against your wall, staring at you with a big mean glare. You felt like a child being scolded for taking candy.

“I’ve told you about this already—“

“And I’ve told you about this already too.” He cuts you off. “My card is yours, your card is yours, okay?” He examines my face for expressions of defeat, acceptance. But finds none.

“I don’t want to spend your family’s hard earned money. And yours. It just doesn’t feel right. Plus, what am I going to spend my own money on?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your question, probably finding it utterly stupid and insane. Who wouldn’t accept free money? You, you wouldn’t.

“Don’t give a fuck. Use my card from now on or I’ll get your card disabled.” He shrugs it off and walks out of your room.

What! WHAT!

“What do you mean you’ll disable my card?!”, you shout, “Jungkook!! Stop!! What the fuck!!” You scream.

꩜ .ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ Secretly recording Jungkook who loves to get baby talked

You scroll on your phone absentmindly (lies), while secretly keeping an eye on your boyfriend. His head rests between your thighs, laying there comfortably as he enjoyed whatever anime on the tv.

You think of how you’re going to secretly set up your phone and record him. Hm. Biting your lip, concentrated, you hide the phone behind your pillow and made sure that the camera would be peaking out.

Okay, perfect.

You start by slowly caressing his hair, running your fingers down his locks and massaging his scalp. You made sure to scratch his scalp with your new set of nails, which he paid for. You know he likes that. Like, a lot.

Jungkook moans, his head’s weight fully dropped down to your thigh. You hum back, hands now moving from his scalp to his face. You trace his cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, his lips—you even teasingly put a finger in.

Sometimes, you remember he’s your boyfriend and that you could touch him however you wanted and that makes you the happiest girl in the world.

You go on to trace his eyes, his eyelashes then ears. Jungkook hums in relaxation, giving his full body control to you. He looooves when you did this. You go on to pull on his cheeks a couple times, and then ;

“Come up.” You tap his head with the tip of your nail.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything back, but raises himself up from the position below and turns around to lay in between your arms.

Let the fun begin, heh.

“I love you.” You tell him, with a wet kiss on his cheek.

He flashes his boyish smile at you, eyes fully locked on yours as he traced your lips, “I love you more, baby.”

“But you’re my baby.” You soften your voice a little bit, squeezing his nose teasingly. “No, you are.” He argues back. “No, wrong, you’re my baby.” Jungkook cracks a smile again, a small giggle escaping his lips, “Fine. I am.” He finally surrenders.

You squeal, beginning to place kisses all over his sweet face. Lips, nose, cheeks—everywhere. You shut his eyes, just so you could kiss his eyelids.

“I love you so much, my little baby.”

Jungkook groans into your neck, overwhelmed with all the affection as his cheeks took a sudden colour to red.

“Awh, you’re blushing! Who’s making you blush, hm?” You squeeze his cheeks really hard. I know that hurts.

“Ywu.” He manages to say one word.

“What’s my name?”

“Y/n—mmph”

“No. That’s not my name.”

“Mwomwy.”

Wait, LMAO— you weren’t expecting him to call you that right away. You thought it would have to take a lot of convincing, I guess not.

You kiss his glossy lips as a reward, finally letting go of his cheeks. You suffocate the man from hugging him really really tight, chest pressed right to his face. I don’t think he’s having a bad time though. His face was right on your boobs, fully dived in.

“Baby, you’re making me feel less of a man”, he says on a serious note, hands travelling down to rest on top of your booty shorts.

“It’s okay, nobody’s gonna know anyway. They don’t have to know that you’re my babyboy.”

“Stop.” He groans, arms how fully around your waist as he avoids eye contact. He’s shy.

“My baby star candy.” You kiss his hair again. “Look up to me, baby.” You tap his face, raising his chin up. Jungkook hums, making eye contact with you now.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy?”

You are trying so hard not to laugh. It’s so hard. Fuck. You stiffen your face, take in a big gulp and stay still. Jungkook looks at you weird, almost like he’s going to call you weird, but then, he just lets out a big massive gigantic groan and says—

“Uugghhh, me.”

You could see the visible disgust in his face, but also you could tell that he kind of liked it. LMAO. You can’t hold it in anymore, so you burst out laughing. You laugh so much you have to hold your stomach in.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Maybe—HEY WHAT THE FUCK!”

The idiot finally spots the camera hiding behind the pillow, screaming as he jumps off your body. You can’t stop laughing. You’re still laughing. Holy shit. You hold your stomach tighter, trying to breath.

“Haa—haaa, fuck, I can’t breath, AHAHAHAHA”

Jungkook screams too, grabbing the phone. He clears his voice before speaking.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n? What the fuck?” He stops the recording and throws the phone away. “Not funny.”

You’re still laughing, eyes closed tight with a big smile on your face. Jungkook thinks you look the prettiest like this.

“Never do that ever again. You are also not posting that anywhere.” He says with a stern voice.

“Okay, but you were into it, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“…maybe.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 “you’re spinning me around, my feet are off the ground!^^”

You shiver because of the extreme weather (it’s just snowing), hands tightly wrapped around yourself as you squeeze yourself into your boyfriend’s body.

“It’s cold.” You’re shivering.

You tug onto your skirt—yes, skirt in the damn cold—and pull it down to cover your thighs as if it’s going to do anything.

“No shit”, your boyfriend laughs, warm hands rubbing your waist under your shirt. But his hands leave you for a brief moment and sneaks under your skirt and hooks his fingers onto your underwear right on your asscheeks and pulls the stretchy material down. You shriek, hitting his stomach as a reaction.

“This barely covers your ass. Why are you wearing a shortass-barely-a-skirt-skirt in winter? You dumbfuck.” He flicks your forehead.

“It’s for the fashion, Jungkook. At least I look good.” You huff.

“Yeah, sure, you look good but you’re freezing your ass off in this snow. I even feel bad to throw snowballs at you because you’re shivering already.” He squeezes the back of your thighs that were cold as fuck, like meat put in the freezer.

“Let’s do the thing now! The video!” You remind Jungkook, hitting on his chest as a signal.

He nods his head with a groan, placing your phone on the car so that it stands up right.

“What do I do again?” He looks at you with a slightly nervous lip bite.

“Follow the lyrics and then pick me up when it says my feet are off the ground, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You giggle and press the little red button—record—so that the video would start playing.

“ you’re spinning me around ”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you to him by your waist so that your body would smash against his. He grabs your other hand, intertwining it with his and his other hand on your hip, yours on his shoulder, he dances with you, spinning you around along with him.

“ my feet are off the ground ”

With a laugh, his face fully scrunched up, the beautiful man whom you’re in love with hooks his strong arms under your thighs and lifts you up, completely effortlessly. You squeak, feet wiggling and hanging while your upper body clinged to his. You smile at the camera, face heating up fully.

“ I don’t know where I stand

do you have to hold my hand ? ”

He puts you down quickly, hand patting the top of your ass as a way of saying “good job”. You stand next to him with a big smile as the lyric plays. Then he holds your hand really tightly, swinging it back and forth to great lengths.

“ you mystify me

you mystify me

you mystify me ”

As the lyric switches, he pulls you in again and kisses you, hard. Lips smacking against eachother, he pulls you into a deep kiss full of love and passion. At the second mystify me, Jungkook bends you back by your back, deepening the kiss. He put his hand on his cheek, thumb on your jaw as he lifts his face up to kiss you even deeper. By the last mystify me, Jungkook pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your lips together still.

Your cheeks were flushed red, quite literally, and so were his. His lips were glossy and his eyes twinkled like stars. There was a big cheesy smile on your face, you felt like a child who’s just had her first kiss ever. You love him so much.

You shyly take steps forward to stop recording the video on his phone. Jungkook looks at you, proud, because he’s just made his girl shy again.

“Shy? What? Like you weren’t sucking my balls off last night?”

Why does he have to ruin everything.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:�� calling him “daddy” as a prank (right in front of your dad)

It took a while for Jungkook to earn your father’s trust. He had to work for it. Bring you home on time, show up and talk to him, engage with the rest of your family—he had to learn to express his love for you really loud in front of your family. Once he fully gained your father’s trust, he was automatically invited to every event your family hosted.

And, that’s no different from right now. Your family was hosting a barbecue. A lot of your family was there, your cousins, uncles and aunts, almost everyone. It was always fun to spend moments together as family. Jungkook was practically family at this point :).

; Which was perfect! For your prank! Of course!

As of now, you were waiting for your boyfriend and dad to end up in the same place.

You were in your kitchen, snacking on some strawberries while being a little bent over on the kitchen isle. Without getting noticed, your boyfriend slithers behind you and creeps his dirty hands up your dress to squeeze your ass cheeks hard. What the fuck! You scream!

“Ack! Jungkook, you scared me!” You whine.

He snickers, places kissing on your shoulder blade while his hands made their way around your waist. “Mmhhhm,” he inhales in the scent of your perfume, letting his full body weight fall onto yours. You ruffle his hair and feed him a strawberry. Jungkook watches the way the juice of the fruit falls onto your neck, so he just lols his tongue out to lick it off, with a smirk of course.

“No, they’ll see.” You warn him.

“Mhm, no.” He murmurs into your neck. His voice was almost inaudible, just audible enough for you to hear it. It was so small and breathy, so needy.

Jungkook breaths into your neck, still kissing you there, leaving light wet pecks on your flesh. “You’re going to get us caught, mh, Jungkook.”

He shakes away your thoughts, fingertips moving lower and lifting up your dress. He taps your clothed clit with the back of his fingers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“No, not in public,” you place your hand on top of his, but don’t move it, and let him do whatever. Jungkook chuckles at your submission, which he expected, of course. But just as he was about to put his hand inside, your little sister screams as she runs into the kitchen.

You both flinch, terrified, screaming! Jungkook withdraws his hand back, covering his actions by just coughing really loud as if he was trying to scratch his throat.

“I want strawberries!” She shouts.

“Yeah, baby? Okay, wait.” You begin cutting up some strawberries for her. In the meantime, your father enters the room, suspiciously eyeing you and Jungkook.

“Daddy, sissy is cutting me strawberries.”

Your dad nods in approval, lifting up your sister and placing her on the kitchen isle.

Now, you never used the nickname “daddy” as much in the bedroom. But whenever you did, Jungkook would be obsessed. He’d beg you to call him that again frequently, but you never did, often finding it ‘cringe’ and ‘weird’. Therefore, you weren’t quite sure whether he would follow the command or not. But heh, worth the try.

“Daddy, can you grab me a bowl?”

In instinct, your father turns around to grab a bowl from the cupboards. But another thing catches his attention, it’s how Jungkook’s reaching for the exact same bowl he was reaching for. They both pause in the moment, looking at eachother’s faces with absolute horror plastered across theirs.

“What the fuck—” your dad exclaims before your sister cuts him off, “—daddy, bad word!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He apologises to your sister, swatting Jungkook’s hand away as he grabs the bowl and places it in front of you.

He’s glaring at the two of you as of now. Jungkook is left flustered, and startled, and sort of angry in a way because he knew you planned this. He darts his eyes at you very sharply.

You give him a small smile. Jungkook tries to escape the situation by walking away, but—

“Jungkook, stay.”

Oh fuck.

Your dad was always a strict man. He wasn’t a crazy type strict, but still very much protective over his daughters.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you just knew you were going to receive a good scolding from Jungkook later.

Your sister finally walks away, munching on her sweet strawberries. Your father, however, taps his fingers on the table, looking between both of you. You’re both silent, like 2 children having caught doing something really sneaky.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear and witness that.” He darts his eyes at Jungkook.

“Secondly, I hope you are using protection.”

Then he just leaves.

Fuck, you are so embarrassed. You look at Jungkook with a small smile, while he gives you a death glare.

The thing is, dad, we are not using protection either. #rawnextquestion.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 ༘⋆ ִ ₊⊹ dream blunt rotation

You sigh, watching your boyfriend roll another blunt. You observe each and every one of his moments carefully. The way he rolls his filter paper, the way he licks the end of the paper to seal it all together. He did it so precisely. He always did. Your boyfriend was, like, the master blunt roller. You in the other hand could never master it. He always rolled your blunts for you.

Jungkook taps the almost completely rolled blunt on the table about 10 times so that all the weed would be inside the rolled paper, then fills it to the top with a bit more weed.

“Hm.” He hands the blunt over to you, “you want me to roll more, baby?”

You shake your head, “this is enough.”

You light up the blunt with—heh, your super cute hello kitty lighter which, by the way, Jungkook decorated for you. Yeah, he bought all the little charms and decorated the lighter for you. You’re in love with this man.

You light the end of the blunt, and put the other side in your mouth to take a small inhale. You exhale the air out, snuggling into your boyfriend’s couch. You were staying over at his place, no way in hell would you smoke at yours. Only in your room, that too if your parents weren’t home. Jungkook’s parents didn’t care. They knew he did all sorts of things. They didn’t really care as long as he did his academics well, which he did.

Jungkook takes an inhale out of his joint, head thrown back as he sighs, eyes closed. Suddenly, he starts giggling.

“What?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“I love you so much. I get emotional when I’m smoking, I don’t fucking know why, but I love you, you know that.” His cheeks take a shade of light pink.

You’re cheeeeeeezzzziiinnnnggggg. There’s a small giggle out of you, and you scoot closer to kiss his cheek and drag a smoke out of your joint as well.

“I love you more, you know that too. And you’re forever going to be my blunt roller slash plug.” You laugh.

“Jesus, I should start making you pay.”

“That’s so odd for you to say.”

Jungkook laughs, agreeing.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, taking an inhale.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” You ask, taking another hint.

“Dream what?” Jungkook laughs, finding the question absolutely ridiculous.

“Like, if you could share your shit with anyone, who? Like, a group of people, mhm?”

He laughs again and grabs your hand that was placed on your thigh and kisses the back of it, “you. Why would I wanna be smoking with anyone else besides you?”

“You smoke with your friends.”

“Well, yeah”—he groans, “but like, you’re my dream, you know? You’re my…dream blunt rotation? Whatever you call it.” He declares his love for you again in rather a more romantic way.

“I’m your dream?,” you giggle, lashes batting. Now it’s your turn to kiss the back of his hand. You stare at your boyfriends big doe eyes as he hummed in response. You take another hit of the joint, keeping the smoke still in your mouth, and pull him into your body. You kiss Jungkook with passion, your saliva mingling together as the smoke transfers down to his mouth. Your boyfriend groans and breaks the kiss to inhale and exhale the smoke.

Both of you were starting to sweat despite the A/C, and the weed was starting to take a toll on you as well. You take another inhale, eyes batting to shut down. “Oh my god,” you moan, head falling against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” He asks back.

“Well,” you begin, “Robert Pattinson, Lee Jong-suk, Woo Do-Hwah—”

“Actually shut the fuck up.” Jungkook shuts you up with a harsh slap to your thigh, making you wince, followed by a giggle.

“‘Kay, sorry. They’re hot though.”

“What about me?” There’s a big fat pout on his face.

“You’re hotter, you’re my husband.” You give him a big fat smile, and a big fat wet kiss on his forehead.

“I think I’m hard.”

And you look down and see a big fat monster tent staring right back at you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Roblox with your boyfriend / headcannons

Jungkook never played Roblox until you forced him to do so. He first laughed at you and called you childish for still playing Roblox, fast forward sometimes he begs you to play it with him.

You got into Roblox through your little sister Evie of course. She’d always ask you to play dress to impress with her, and who are you to say no? That’s when you felt like dragging Jungkook into this.

He would always supply you an endless amount of robux. You and Evie, of course. His account however would only have like 5 robux left, whilst yours was like 10k all the time. You had access to his Roblox account, so you’d randomly log into his account and change his avatar a bit here and there.

He also only had two friends on Roblox, that would be you and Evie. For some reason, he had a bunch of followers on Roblox. He always wondered why, since he never even played like that. You had about 200 friends on roblox though. And like a bunch of followers. LOL.

Moving onto the games you play, it ranges from cute girly games to horror games. Most of the time, it’s always dress to impress. Jungkook would always call it boring but also yell whenever he doesn’t place.

You’d play arsenal, mm2, doors, mocker, dead silence, hello kitty café, royale high—likewise.

Also, don’t tell anyone, but sometimes whenever you guys are hanging out, you’d ask him “hey, wanna have e sex?” and go on LifeTogether on Roblox and do it there for shits and giggles. You always found it funny, and he just did whatever would make his girlfriend happy. happy wife = happy life. Oh, and of course you have real sex after^^.

Everytime another headless gets deleted, Jungkook would just spend like 800 robux to buy you another. He’s so cute, you love him so much.

You and Jungkook would have cute matching Roblox fits. His would be all pink and cute, he didn’t care since it was Roblox. You guys would deffo get labelled as a “corny Roblox couple” LOL.

Jungkook’s favourite game though, as corny as it sounds, unfortunately, is dahood💔. You hate that game passionately from the bottom of your soul but he loves it. He logs in and starts fights with randos. Sometimes he would kill you and carry you around the place. He’s done some cute things though. Like once, he planted dahood flowers all over the place and wrote ‘I love you’ on the wall using dahood graffiti.

outfit inspo 4 u guys + dti sneak peak :

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ^ྀི the topic of kids !

“Jungkook?” You ask your boyfriend, who just hums at you. He’s sleepy.

“You ever think of kids?” Your voice is sleepy as you sleep.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “with you? Yeah, all the time. Why do you ask?”

It feels nice. It feels really nice to know that he feels the same way about you. He also wants to have children with you. Not now, for sure, but one day.

“I fantasise about our future a lot. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I’ll make chop suey out of your dick and feed it to the sharks if you do.” You threaten him, followed by a yawn. Jungkook just laughs, the sound of his soft laugh echoing from one year to another. You love the sound of it. So, so, so incredibly much.

“You’d have to kill me to make me leave you, my beautiful baby Y/n. Even so, I’d come haunt you as a ghost. ‘M never leaving you alone.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You say as your fingers fondle with the gold chain around his neck. “How many kids do you want?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “how many does mommy want? I’d like to have as many as you’d want to pop out” ; he ends his sentence with a laugh.

“Mommy wants at least 3.”

He nods, hand patting the crown of your head. “‘Kay, daddy agrees too.”

“You think…I’ll be a good mom?” Your words are a tad bit slurred as the drowsiness is getting to you really bad, but you still ask your question.

“Is that a question? You’re the most patient person I know. You’re the most genuine and kindest person I’ve ever met. Sometimes I don’t understand why you’re still with me because I can be such an asshole sometimes. You’re like, the angel that I was blessed with. You’re the light to my life, the sun to my moon, I don’t know brah”—he pauses and holds you tighter and murmurs, “you know how I feel about you,” into your neck.

You giggle, your grip tightening around your plushy as you blushed. “What are you? A poet?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You’re making me horny. Let’s make a football team.”

[kyber-crystal]

through the seasons || f.w.

summary: he would love you till the end of time. everyone can see it, and they can only hope that you’ll come to your senses and realize that too.

words: ~6.4k (i went overboard LMFAO)

warnings: light angst, some mentions of death / violence (but dw it's a happy ending)

a/n: first ever hp fic in like, ever LOL so apologies if this seems off in any way. the timeline for this is a lil weird?? but basically the fic starts during the spring of GOF: you’re a year below fred & a year above the golden trio : ) ALSO i highly recommend listening to 'moonlight serenade' by frank sinatra ESP during the parts it's mentioned in. you'll see why :)))) add yourself to my hp taglist here!

spring

Given that springtime was nearly over, it was rather cold outside. 

The sky gleamed a bright, cornflower blue, with the May morning breeze hitting your skin. You, Hermione, and Ginny found yourselves huddling together in the stands and tightly clutching each other to keep warm. 

Anticipation nipped at your insides like tiny needles. You had spent the past half-hour at breakfast listening to a nervous Ron ramble on about how he hardly knew what he was doing, and seeing an unusually quiet Fred pick at his food. You knew it wasn’t like him to spend almost an entire meal without saying more than a few words. 

“You ok?” you mouthed, glancing over at the redhead in concern.  “As long as you’re looking at me,” Fred replied, attempting a small smile. He pressed something warm and fuzzy into your hands under the table. “You’re my good luck charm today. Keep this for me during the match.” You nodded, and felt your heart warm as you looked down to see that it was the fuzzy scarf he always wore during Hogsmeade trips or around the castle when it got particularly chilly. His initials had been hand-stitched into one end—undoubtedly Mrs. Weasley’s handiwork. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” “That’s my girl.”

“Look!” Ginny whisper-shouted, ending your momentary flashback. “I think that’s them!”

The Gryffindor team filed out into the stadium to be instantly met with a cacophony of loud cheers and applause. Your throat was already starting to hurt from screaming alongside the seas of blazing red and gold, though the match had yet to begin. 

Without even realizing it, you found your eyes scanning the area for a particular ginger-haired Beater, and the tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulders loosened as soon as you saw him. 

“You’re not even playing, yet I’d say you’re as big of a mess as poor Ronald,” Hermione chuckled lightly. “Concerned for someone?”

“Oh shut up,” you muttered, tightening Fred’s scarf around your neck just a bit more. “It’s the last match of the year—I’m just as nervous as everyone else. I need to see someone beat Malfoy’s egotistical arse to a pulp.”

Both her and Ginny snorted at this. 

“You’re right…but that’s not who I was referring to,” your best friend reminded you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Don’t you think you care a little too much? More than a friend should?”

“No,” you stated flatly. But Hermione knew this was a lie—after all, she had known you for five years now and could tell when you were lying. She watched as you fiddled with the ends of the colorful scarf around your neck—a flash of something caught her eye, and she squinted to see F.W. embroidered in delicate gold. 

Of course you were being serious, she chuckled to herself. She decided to not say anything about why you had Fred’s scarf on, and instead joked, “Do you think he or Ron’ll make it without getting a concussion?” 

“Now that’s hard to say…” you began, knowing how the two boys were sometimes often quite clumsy. “Fingers are crossed that my Fred will be just fine.”

“Your Fred? What about Ron?” she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you care about both of them?”

“—Both of them will be just fine,” you quickly corrected yourself. “They’ll be alright.”

“Okay…” she said, unconvinced that your reply wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. 

Turning your attention back to the game, you heard Lee Jordan’s classic, enthusiastic voice echo across the grounds. “Welcome to the last Quidditch match of the YEAR! We have quite the game in store today, Gryffindor versus Slytherin…” 

Eventually, after the captains shook hands and everyone mounted their brooms, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and released the balls into the air. Loud cheers filled the stadium once again, and all fourteen players shot up into the sky. You were only really focusing on one thing—or person, really. It seemed that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

“—aaand that’s a Bludger to the head from Fred Weasley, ouch, that’s gotta hurt…There goes Katie Bell, making a swift pass over to Johnson…there’s Johnson with the Quaffle! And then, ,there he goes…Fred Weasley does it AGAIN! Malfoy gets a hard Bludger to the back—”

Right then, Fred caught your eye and winked. You sent back a shy wave in response. 

Everyone tries their best to ignore the Slytherin section’s jeering taunts and chants of Weasley Is Our King. You didn’t need to look over to know Ron was hardly taking it. 

From there on out it was a blur of motion, noise, and loud sounds, and before you knew it, the match was over and done. 

“—GRYFFINDOR WINS! WITH WEASLEY’S GAME-WINNING BLOCK AND POTTER’S SHEER SPEED, THEY WIN!” The excitement is clear in Lee’s voice. “GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

The crowd went wild again as Fred made his downward descent. As soon as the tips of his shoes touched the grass he jumped off and immediately rushed over to you as fast as his feet would take him.

Your head was spinning and you could barely tell what was going on amidst the ground-shaking noise and overall chaos. But there he was in front of you now, sweaty and tired but grinning wildly nonetheless as he brought you into a tight embrace. He started spinning you around and you couldn’t help but join in on his contagious laughter. 

“There’s my good luck charm,” he whispered into your ear as he set you down, breath fanning against the skin behind your ear. 

Having no words left except pure joy, you shook your head and smiled as you leaned into him, squeezing him back even tighter. “I’m so proud of you.”

Both of you were too busy to notice that your friends around you had stopped congratulating the other players and chattering with one another, their eyes now on you two. Ginny, Harry, and Hermione exchanged a look, and Ron, amidst his nerves and exhaustion, cracked a grin as he watched his older brother and best friend savoring a moment with each other. 

Hopefully, they’ll realize it for themselves…he thought. Amidst the chaos of the past year, he knew that all of them—especially the two of you—deserved a bit of peace more than anything. 

summer

“Last one there is a rotten egg and has to take the soddy backup broom!” Ginny shouted. You all immediately broke into a sprint at this, scrambling to go outside for yet another round of backyard Quidditch. Harry damn near tripped over his own feet as he and Ron tried pushing over each other to squeeze out the back door. Fred and George were doing the same thing, and you and Hermione used this chance to sneak past them. You silently high-fived each other at this.

“Boys will be boys…” she laughed quietly, linking your arm through hers as you continued walking across the meadow, the grass brushing against the fabric of your trousers. “There’s no catching a break around here.”

Lo and behold, poor Ron was forced to take the backup broom, grumbling the entire time as everyone put their gear on. “I hate you guys. Haven’t I been through enough already?”

Everyone took turns being the score-keeper, and this time it was Hermione (she had also been score-keeper the last two rounds as she was a bit tired, and didn’t really mind). She sat down under the giant apple tree as she chose the teams. 

“Harry, George, and Fred!” she called out. “Versus the rest of you.” 

“That’s so not fair!” Ron complained. “You have two Beaters and the—”

“—youngest Seeker in a century on one team,” Harry finished his sentence with a cheeky grin.

Ron rolled his eyes. “At least I’m with you, Y/N…I guess…”

“Thanks for the compliment, Ronald,” you said with a slight hint of sarcasm. 

It was only a few minutes in the match when Fred found himself distracted. He was supposed to be on guard, but his eyes kept wandering over to you, zipping around on your broom with ease, gliding through the air like a bird. He wondered when he stopped seeing you as just his ‘best friend’ and started seeing you as someone who made his heart beat faster; someone who he desperately wanted to see smile because that’s all he needed to make his entire day. 

“Awe, come on, Freddie, get your head back in the game!” you called out to him in a teasing voice as he just barely blocked a flying Bludger hurtling towards his face. “Don’t wanna be slammed into, now do you?”

He shook his head and quickly snapped out of it. “Of course not.”

“Blimey, Fred! You nearly gave yourself another concussion there from ogling at her!” George exclaimed. 

“I can’t help but be charming,” you joked, sending Fred a wink. “Enjoy the view while you can!”

It was only mid-morning/barely afternoon by the time you finished the last match, but if anything, your sore muscles told you that it felt like days had passed. Adrenaline was still thrumming in your veins as everyone headed in, laughing at the thrill of flying through the skies without a care in the world. 

“Remember that losers have to make lunch!” Harry reminded.

Ginny groaned. “Come on. Way to ruin the vibe.”

You, her, and Ron all let out long sighs before heading straight to the kitchen to whip something up for the six of you. Food bets needed to stop…

After a quick meal of sandwiches, everyone headed back outside to play more rounds of backyard Quidditch. You opted to stay in this time around; the dull ache in your shoulders and lower back telling you you’d had enough for the day. One cold shower and some quiet work helping Mr. Weasley organize his home office later, you slumped onto the sofa.

The remainder of the afternoon and evening went by slowly but peacefully. Eventually, you found yourselves sitting around on the living room floor, playing board games well into the night while the crickets chirped outside. The days were long, and cracking jokes and long talks came much easier than they normally did. Of course, Fred sat next to you the entire time, finding a way to be touching you in one way or another no matter what. Shoulders pressed together closely, fingers tracing patterns into your palms, a hand rubbing your back. 

Harry gulps down his mug of butterbeer before launching into a dramatic retelling of when Professor Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret, earning roars of laughter and “That git deserved it” from all around. Fred follows up with the first time him and George tested prototypes of their Puking Pastilles, which ended with a delirious Lee Jordan and Ron’s face turning greener than mandrake leaves (much to Mrs. Weasley’s horror—she sent both twins death glares at this). 

You were too busy losing it to notice an arm—Fred’s—snaking around your waist, pulling you into his side. But when you did realize it was him, you didn’t say anything, and just simply relaxed against him. It was second nature to you both; you’ve learned to anticipate him sliding up next to you. And, it was comforting to know that he would always be nearby.

Despite being the last one to go to bed, Fred was the first one awake before dawn had even broken over the horizon. The skies were clear but grey, and the roosters had yet to make a sound. 

“Wake up,” you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Whaddayawant,” you groaned, voice groggy. “Listen Ron, it’s too early to play Quidditch, tell Wood that you want to go for a round instead…”

“Hey, it’s only me,” Fred replied. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you got up, being careful not to step on Hermione or Ginny’s hands or arms on the way out the door. He kept a hand pressed against the small of your back the entire way down the creaky staircase. 

“Ta-da…” he whispered, the classic Weasley grin spreading across his face. “Take a look at this beauty.”

“A…record player?” your brows furrowed in confusion. “This is what you woke me up at 4 a.m. for?” 

“Dad got it at this old Muggle store in central London years ago, he said it was a ‘thrift shop,’” Fred explained as your eyes glanced over the cracked, but beautiful record player on the kitchen table. “D’you reckon it still works, though?” 

“We’ll have to see for ourselves,” you shrugged. 

He placed the vinyl CD into the player and adjusted the needle, and within seconds a slow Muggle tune began to play. 

“Oh, I know this one…Hermione has told me about it before. Frank Sinatra is quite famous in the Muggle musical world.”

“Well, then…may I have this dance?” Fred extended a hand out to you. You shake your head and roll your eyes, but take his hand and allow him to pull you close. His arms wrap around your torso as your hands rest on his shoulders, and you allow yourselves to get carried away by the slow, melodic ballad.

My love, do you know That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming? I bring you, and I sing you  A moonlight serenade

Fred gently twirls you around the kitchen before bringing you back in and smoothly catching you by the waist, and you’re surprised at how easy it is for him. You often forgot that he had a knack for dancing—it wasn’t often that you got to see him do so. 

“And you were about to be upset at me for waking you up,” he leans in to say. 

“You’re forgiven,” you exhale, resting your head against his chest. “But you know I could never be upset with you.” 

Long after the song had ended, you still found yourself wrapped in his embrace.  

Mrs. Weasley was heading downstairs to start preparing breakfast, but suddenly stopped midway. Her heart warmed as she took in the sight of you and Fred standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed as he hummed a foreign tune, slow dancing without a care in the world. 

Deciding not to interrupt, she stands there for a moment, smiling as she watched her boy fall in love with the young woman that she hoped to call her daughter one day. 

fall

“—Godric’s sake, I’m so tired of losing,” Ron groaned as you quickly smacked the top of the deck with your wand, dust flying into his face. “I’m never playing this with you again.” 

You rolled your eyes as he coughed and dusted himself off. “Okay, no Exploding Snap, then no more sweets from Honeydukes ever again.” 

“Fine, I’m playing, I’m playing,” he sighed, rubbing the side of his forehead as the colorful deck of cards reshuffled themselves. “You’re almost as horrible as my brother.”

“Almost as horrible as who—hey, Y/N, is that my jumper?” Fred paused as he approached you and Ron sitting at the coffee table, as Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny watched on. 

“Dunno, is it?” you shrugged innocently, tapping your chin. “Hey, Nev, you want a go? I have to finish reading my book for McGonagall’s class.”

Neville nodded, and Ron raised a fist in triumph. “FINALLY! Bring it on, Longbottom.”

You shifted onto the couch so Neville could take your spot, and without another word, Fred sat down right next to you. The deep burgundy color of his Gryffindor sweater only further brought out the color of your eyes, he noticed, which sparkled brightly under the dim lighting. 

Fred then shifted to lay his head down in your lap, and you didn’t even do so much as flinch. With your book in one hand, you used the other to start brushing your fingers through his hair. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing until you heard him let out a quiet sigh of contentment. 

“Did I ever tell you that you’re absolutely brilliant?” he glanced up at you from where he lay, watching carefully and intently. “Sometimes I’m surprised that you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Weasley,” you laughed softly as you turned the page. 

Right as you were about to turn the page again, he stopped you by lightly tugging your wrist. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

He carefully turned your hand to look at the scratches etched into the back of it. They were beginning to fade, but the occasional shifts in movement would cause them to sting and sometimes crack open. 

“When did Umbridge do this to you?” Something unfamiliar flashed in Fred’s eyes, and he seemed angry for the briefest of moments. But the darkened look was quickly replaced with one of concern. “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not at all,” you lied as you set down your book, but he didn’t miss the way you winced slightly as he adjusted your hand to look at it again. 

The rest of your friends had scattered elsewhere at this point, the typical noise now having faded into a soft chatter of sorts. Hermione came back with a bowl of yellow liquid, eyeing you worriedly. “Strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles…these should help…”

“Oh…thank you…” You placed your hand into the bowl and immediately exhaled with relief. 

“I think I’m going to sleep a little early tonight…I’ll see you two at breakfast? Take it easy, Y/N,” Hermione gave your shoulder a squeeze. You nodded as she gave you one last smile and walked away. 

Once the pain had faded into a dull ache, you set the bowl of murtlap on the table and leaned back against the sofa. Fred was now laser-focused on something he was holding, fiddling with it using what looked like a small pair of tweezers. Assuming that it had to do with the joke shop he and George were working on, you paid it no mind, and picked up your copy of Guide to Advanced Transfiguration again. 

You were far too absorbed into your book to notice when Fred had slipped whatever that thing was onto your finger. It was cold to the touch but fit snugly. 

“D’you like it?”

“What is…” You put your book away and glanced down, about to say something half-sarcastic, but immediately stopped. 

It had to have been the most beautiful ring you had seen. Although it was slightly on the thinner side, it glittered brighter than any star you had ever seen. You twisted your hand this way and that as you watched the material catch the light. 

“...You know my ring size,” your voice trailed off as you took notice of the hopeful look in Fred’s eyes. “But what is this for? You know we’re—”

“For when the time comes,” he explained simply, raising your scarred right hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss there. His gaze on you remained steady and comforting in the same way that his presence made you feel. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Tears prickled at the edges of your eyes, and you nodded, feeling a sudden lump form in your throat. You were filled with a warmth that you knew had nothing to do with the blazing fire in front of you. “You know there’s no one else.”

How your best friend could make your chest ache in this way, you had no clue…For some odd reason, you thought, it wasn’t all that difficult to picture a future with him in it. 

Not when he was your future. You loved him, no doubt, but when it came to describing your exact relationship all words fell short. You were close friends, but was it in the same way that you and Hermione were friends? Or you and Ginny? 

But he’s my best friend, you told yourself. He’s been my best friend for over six years. 

But ‘best friends’ don’t make you feel the way that Fred does. 

Best friends went beyond just saving you a seat at the Great Hall if you woke up late for breakfast or slept through lunch because of a long nap. They didn’t pull you away on Hogsmeade trips and insist on hanging out with you one-on-one when you could very well just hang out together as one big group with all your friends. 

They definitely didn’t fashion you a ring by hand in the middle of one quiet fall night, but he did. 

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Hm…what?”

“You okay? You seemed a little spaced out there, love,” Fred raised a brow at you as he sat up, taking your hand in his. 

“Just…thinking,” you hummed, letting your head lean against his shoulder. He pulled you into his side at this, tenderly brushing his lips against your forehead. 

“About how I’m your favorite person on the planet and that I’m loads funnier than Georgie?”

“As if you’d ever be the only thing on my mind.”

Fred pouted, his bottom lip sticking out. “Ouch. That hurt.”

“I’m kidding,” you glanced up at him, pouting slightly. “You’ll never leave my mind. I’m holding you hostage.”

“And that’s a sentence I’d want to extend for as long as I could,” he responded. 

Voldemort's return and the premise of another war loomed overhead. But he found that when your warm hand slipped into his, body leaning in close, and your laughter ringing through the air like shooting stars, it was easy for him to forget. To fall into you and feel as if you're the only thing that mattered in this world because frankly, you were.

winter

There was one big thing to look forward to today: another Hogsmeade outing. The final weekend trip before Christmas was always a little bittersweet, but filled with the most pure joy. 

The Great Hall was decked out from ceiling to floor as it always was during the holiday season. Bits of snow delicately floated down from the crystalline ceiling as the classic giant Christmas tree stood tall behind the staff table. You stopped every few seconds to admire the decorations despite having been here for nearly seven years now and seeing (and even having helped one time) the grandiose setup.

Excited chatter filled every table as you went over to the Gryffindor table to sit with your friends. Ron was already piling his plate with food, grinning excitedly as he did so. 

“Where’s Fred?” you asked as you sat down next to George. 

“Already missing your lover boy?” the younger twin teased. “He’ll be down in a sec. The lazy arse overslept so Lee went to drag him down here.” 

“Oh, okay…” You paused for a moment. “Wait, he’s not my—”

You felt someone squeeze your shoulder behind you before pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, stopping you from finishing your sentence. 

“Morning, my love,” Fred greeted casually as he slid into the spot next to you, seemingly oblivious to the stares he got from his gesture. “You sleep okay?”

“Merlin’s beard, Fred, when are ‘ou going ‘o admid it?” Ron groaned, in the middle of chewing his third drumstick. 

“Yeah, when?” Ginny echoed. “I’m going to hex you if you don’t.”

“Tell me what?” you tilted your head to the side as you glanced between them. 

“Oh, uh, nothing!” she said quickly. 

“Nothing!” Fred grinned sheepishly. Ginny sharply jabbed an elbow into his side. “OW!” 

You rolled your eyes, deciding not to question the odd exchange. 

Fred placed a soft hand on your thigh, using his other to swipe a croissant from your plate. 

“Hey!” 

“You know you love me,” he teased. 

“Shut up,” you muttered, feeling your face burn, a smile crept up on your face nonetheless. You continued eating, his hand remaining in place, and pretended like you didn’t mind what he was doing. 

You exited Hogwarts to flurries of snow blowing around, adjusting your hat and (Fred’s) scarf accordingly to protect your face from the biting winds. Hogsmeade was relatively quiet today, so you took every second you had to relish in the peace. 

“Godric, you’re freezing,” Fred’s bright smile turned into a slight frown when he noticed you were shivering, rubbing your gloved hands together. “Here.”

He shook off his coat and handed it to you, helping you put it on by holding the sleeves out. You let out an involuntary sigh of relief once the warmth enveloped your body.

“T-thanks, but aren’t you gonna get c—”

“Trust me, I’ll be alright,” he assured you, squeezing your hands. “Don’t want to get sick before Christmas, right?” 

You managed a nod, and he casually slung an arm across your shoulders. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he grinned. “Now come on, I think we have some drinks waiting for us.” 

As always, he had pulled you away from your friend group to “spend extra special time with the coolest and funniest girl in the world” and though you rolled your eyes at this, you allowed him to take the lead. (You weren’t complaining.)

Maybe it was the snow, maybe it was the added heat from Fred’s jacket, or maybe it was something else, but you were in an unusually good mood today. Fred noticed how you smiled more than usual, eagerly tugging his hand as you pulled him from shop to shop. 

“Y/N…you’ll drain my pockets,” he groaned as you stopped in front of Honeyduke’s, positively beaming. “And you’ll rot my teeth.”

“Please…?” you begged. “I’ll die if I don’t get a bag.”

“Y/N, love, come on…” But seeing the blissful and innocent twinkle in your eyes made it damn near impossible for him to say no. “Alright, fine. Pick out what you want, it’s on me.”

“You’re the best!” you squeezed his arm before heading into the shop together, hand in hand. “This is why I love you.”

“Ow? Placing my worth based on how many sweet treats I am willing to bestow upon you?” Fred feigned offense at your statement. “But it’s okay. I love you too.” 

Half an hour later, you were walking out of the sweet shop with a bag filled to the brim, and Fred was magically several Galleons lighter.

The two of you were only a three-minute walk from the castle grounds when the wind started to pick up. What was once a light snowy drizzle had suddenly turn into a full-blown blizzard, obscuring your vision for meters. 

“I can’t even—I can’t see a thing!” you yelled over the whipping winds, trying to shield your face. “Fred, where are you?” 

“Right behind you,” he murmured, circling an arm around your middle. “Don’t worry.” 

But then, you felt something cold and icy slip down your jumper. 

“Fred Weasley!” you yelled as he ran away, laughing with another clump of snow in hand. “You get back here right this instant before I kick your arse—” 

You lunged forward and went sprinting after him, well, as fast as you could through the thick blankets of snow. Fred’s laugh echoed through the frigid air as you rolled up a giant snowball and chucked it at him. It hit him square in the back and he nearly fell from the impact. 

The blizzard added an extra layer of difficulty, but you were determined to win by sheer talent and not take the easy way out with magic. 

Your arms began to ache from forming and throwing snowball after snowball, and you were sure that you’d be getting bruises all over your body (especially from one particularly hard hit between your shoulder blades when you’d been distracted). But seeing Fred so blissfully happy made it worth it—for a split second, you could pretend you were both thirteen again, no worries in the world except for beating each other in Quidditch. 

“Okay, this is so over!” you shouted as you chased him over a small hill and finally jumped on his back to tackle him, causing him to fall face first into the snow. 

“You absolute—” he began, voice muffled. “Ow.”

He fell silent for a few seconds and stopped moving, causing you to worry. “Freddie, you alright? Fred!”

After you panicked for a few more seconds, Fred finally flipped over, clutching his stomach as he laughed at you. “You actually thought I was hurt?” 

“It’s not funny!” you exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. Your face flushed as you realized you practically sitting on him and awkwardly shifted off, opting to kneel by his side as he sat up. “What if you actually were? I’d like to be the one that heals you, not hurts you, thank you very much!”

He smirked. “Aw, so you were worried about me. You care, don’t you?”

“Shut it, I do not,” you scoffed. 

His eyes trailed down your ring, which still shone so brightly, as you absentmindedly fiddled with it. 

“...I think you’re missing a little something, don’t you think? Or maybe it’s me that is,” he said so quietly that you almost missed what he’d said. “A diamond, perhaps….”

“A diamond?” your voice came out in the tiniest of whispers as well. “I think you’d look alright in a little silver…”

Fred then cupped your face in his hands, which forced you to look back up at him. He gently grazed his thumbs over your cheekbones and there was now what seemed like a look of longing in his bright hazel eyes. He’d always gazed at you admiringly but that was because he was your best friend, you told yourself (a lie that, time and time again, you’d try and fail over the years to convince yourself of). Best friends loved and cared for each other, that’s what they’re supposed to do. 

But here he was, making you feel things that a friend normally didn’t. And you didn’t even try to push him away because you didn’t want him to leave; you never wanted him to. 

He finally closed the ever-decreasing gap between you two and kissed you, capturing your lips in his. You buried a hand in his messy hair and pulled him closer; as close as you possibly could, desperate for the way he made you feel so alive because he was the one thing keeping you anchored to the ground. 

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, he says over and over. You swore you’d explode, feeling him smile against your lips, tugging you even closer. 

the in-between

The chasm of grief, so cold and uninviting, seemed to open up and swallow you whole. 

You hated war. You hated watching the blood of innocent people being shed by the ruthless works of evil. You hated that you had survived while so many you had grown to know and love didn’t. They’re just kids. They’re too young. They didn’t deserve to die the way they did. They’re just kids. They’re just kids. 

You weren’t sure how you even survived. 

As soon as you locked eyes with each other, you, Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati collapsed into one giant hug on the floor, tightly clutching one another. You had all been incredibly lucky to have made it through together.

Fred’s eyes carefully scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. When he saw you there in the corner, eyes squeezed shut and clinging to your best friends, he wanted nothing more than to approach and comfort you. But he knew you all needed this time together—you had lost many loved ones, and they were some of the only family you had left. So he let you be, leaning against the wall and watching from afar. 

Over the next hour or so, people slowly started trickling out of the Great Hall—parents coming to pick up their kids, families reuniting—until it was just you, Harry, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Fleur, and the Weasleys. There was an unspoken feeling of gratitude lingering in the air and you could sense the relief all-around. 

Your heart clenched as you watched Harry embrace his godfather. Your mother had died when you were young and your father had suffered a similar fate as the Longbottoms, so watching families reunite always sent a spear through your chest. 

“Hey,” you heard, feeling someone intertwine their fingers with yours. You didn’t need to look over to know it was Fred. “Sickle for your thoughts? Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Leaning into him, you closed your eyes, attempting to will the tears away. “I don’t…I don’t know.  I just hate war. While I’m glad this is over, I can’t help but think how unfair it all is. People losing each other, being torn apart…Voldemort’s gone, I know, but it just feels like he took a part of me to the grave with him.”

“I hope it’s not the part that made you fall in love with me,” Fred joked, and the corners of your lips quirked up in a grin.

“Of course not…” you murmured, “you’d have to pry your heart out of my cold, dead hands to try and take it from me. I’m here now, whether you like it or not.”

“For good?” 

“For good,” you stated, reaching up to kiss him softly. “I love you.”

“And you know I love you more.”

epilogue (it’s a new spring with you)  

With the Dark Lord gone, there were many loose ends to tie up and much-deserved resting to do. You had stayed behind to help start with cleaning up the castle grounds, before deciding to take the Hogwarts Express back home all togehter—for old time’s sake. 

“What about the shop?” you asked George as you sat down between him and Fred. “Don’t you two need to be there?” 

“We reckon it’ll be just fine—it’s not just us there anymore, remember?” he said, “but, Freddie thought you were more important. That’s why we’re here.”

Resting your head against his chest, you gazed up at Fred and smiled. “You left for me?” 

“You know all that I do is for you,” he explained as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Ew my teeth, they’re going to rot from the cheesy sweetness,” Ron groaned. “You’d think that the war would wipe all that out.” 

“Oh shut it, Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Let them live.” 

You drifted off and slept through the entire ride home, feeling a tad bit more refreshed when pulling in to King’s Cross station. It was a blur from there: taking the Floo network, carrying bags, washing up, and whatnot. You felt as if you were on autopilot with a barely functioning Muggle battery. All you wanted was to collapse on the floor and sleep forever, but you wanted to sit around the living room floor with your friends and catch up like you always did during the summer. 

Lupin and Tonks had gone home to take care of Teddy while the rest of you were settling in. Chatter filled the Burrow as you spent time unpacking, and you found that you’d missed all the noise more than you initially thought. Dinner was an equally chaotic but also peaceful affair, filled with plenty of toasts, extra servings, and laughter, of course. 

While Sirius was busy telling the table about the Mauraders’ antics, Fred squeezed your hand, jerking his head behind him to indicate that he wanted to go out back. 

Now? What is it? you mouthed. 

Fred nodded. Yes, now, so come on. 

He took your hand and led you out the back door to the orchards, crescent moon shining overhead. A faint smile graced your face as you thought back to the days you spent together under the giant apple tree, reading stories from Hermione’s books to one another, skipping stones by the lake, and tending to the chickens. 

A familiar tune started drifting through the air, and Fred extended a hand towards you.

“May I have this dance?”

You were immediately hit with a wave of déjà vu at his question, and allowed him to sweep you up into his arms. He placed his hands on your waist and you felt sparks shoot up your spine at his touch. Your arms wound their way around his neck as you swayed to the melody, losing yourselves in a dreamy lullaby. Though you had done this with him before on several occasions, it still felt like you were falling in love all over again. 

You swallowed hard as you thought about how you had both been forced to grow up so fast. Moments like these—of pure bliss and childlike innocence—were far and few between, so they were to be greatly cherished. It was easy when he was twirling you around like this; effortlessly guiding your motions, to forget that anything and anyone else existed. 

Closing your eyes, you focused on the feeling of his warm hands through your sweater and the soothing sound of his soft hums, allowing them to carry you away. 

At one point, he briefly stops before spinning you outwards—but this time, he doesn’t pull you back in to catch you. You’re about to be confused but then, you turn around to see him down on one knee, a glittering diamond ring in hand. You froze in place, completely shocked. 

“A diamond, perhaps…” you echoed, recalling that one winter night when you had kissed him for the first time, feeling like your heart was going to explode out of your chest. 

“It’s always been you,” said Fred in a simple, soft tone of voice. “Always has been and always will be.”

Your eyes began to water. “You’re bloody kidding me…”

“Y/N, I know I joke around a lot—hell, I opened a whole shop with Georgie…but one thing I’ve never joked about is the way I feel about you.”

“Fred…”

“...Will you marry me?”

You opened and closed your mouth but no words seemed to come out. All you could manage was a small nod before tears fully blurred your vision and you stepped forward, hand shaking as he slid the diamond ring on. 

When his lips brushed against yours, time seemed to splutter to a stop, and you felt your weary heart slowly but steadily stitch itself back together. 

Except, he was the one holding the needle and telling you that there was no need to be anxious or scared because he’d be by your side for the rest of your life. 

So don't let me wait Come to me tenderly in the June night I stand at your gate And I sing you a song in the moonlight A love song, my darling A moonlight serenade

tags: @htchnr @arkofblake @xhanthexzoria @antriimx @pinkdaiisies @lovely-whale-is-lovely

[kurooandkenmasslut]

jjk dilfs x pregnant!reader

(reader is far into the pregnancy, much to jjk mens excitement yet worry.)

no minors! (I didn't feel like aging up yuuji and megumi and so on..) && no sukunaaa sorryyy

tojis is super short, I apologise!! if this gets enough attention I might make it longer but i wanted this out asap lmfao

⭒​SATORU GOJO↫​

when dream becomes reality

“But!-”

“no buts, sweets. just rest your cute lil buttocks on the couch.” gojo fought back. everytime you'd protest to do something, he'd always be there to retort. Especially since your due date was nearing.

you bit your lip, staring up at him. You felt kind of bad. He does everything for you, cleaning, shopping for you everyday, even learning a new skill which was cooking, just for you.

lying on his chest as you both watch your favourite tv show, his large hand caressing your belly bump.

“what do you think the baby'll be?” you ask, staring up at his face. Gojo stared at your face for a moment, not thinking, just admiring his wife.

“a boy.” he says, no hesitation.

“ehhh? why do you think that? I think it's a girl.”

“my dreams, sweets.” he smiles and you chuckle. At the near the start of your relationship, satoru had a dream of where you are now. Him being the strongest sorcerer, you his wife, with a baby boy. He had his absolutely gorgeous eyes and long lashes and most of his features, the cute baby taking your haircolor and your pretty smile. Oh if only younger gojo saw him now, he would of cried in happiness.

with a flushed face, he admitted it, completely out of his mind. drunk gojo smirked as he told described how beautiful it was, not knowing how embarrassed he was, but he didn't mind the part where his dream came true.

as embarrassing as it is for gojo to recall the memory, he still laughs with you, because if you find it funny, then he's content. maybe revealing another embarrassing secret, just to make you laugh, isn't that bad.

⭒​CHOSO KAMO↫​

First time daddy!

as soon as choso found out you were pregnant, he typed up on google what pregnant means, he was happy for the most part but.. worry and nervousment still lingered. He was actually surprised he could reproduce since he was a half curse. Negative thoughts was set on his mind. He felt as if his child would be scared of him. And if they were, which in his mind, they were likely to, he would curl up and bawl on the floor.

You gave told choso over and over again everyday, saying there's nothing to be worried about and that he'll be an amazing father, but he still felt like it, no matter the words you repeated. Not to mention, the people outside your relationship gossiped, especially about choso. On how he is a 'monster', a curse, not fit to parent with a human, that you deserve better. He would hear them on the streets, anywhere and everywhere. He did try not letting them get to him, but hearing it constantly everytime he went in public was very exhausting.

any time you tripped, or just an honest accident, choso felt like he was responsible for not taking care of you properly. Even though, it wasn't his fault.

So when that baby pushed through, God, he wanted to cry. Although the nurses rushed to clean him, he clenched your sweaty palm. Wiping away the stray hairs that stuck onto your sweaty forehead. You panted, leaning into his touch.

the nurses carried your baby gently and carefully, placing him into your arms. The nurses cooed before leaving you with choso.

Choso wasn't an emotional person, but big fat tears swam down his pale face, his hands covering his face. You lightly chuckled.

“do you want to hold him?” funny how that small, little sentence almost made him faint.

“b-but.. what if I drop him?” choso muttered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. Nervous was an understatement. “nonsense! we practiced for this, remember? Here, my arms are tired, cho.” you say, yawning. Gently pushing the newborn into his hands, choso cradled his head in his hand, while his arm held his body.

You didn't get time to oogle, as your bufy shut down like a light.

The baby opened his eyes, big doe circles looking back at him. They both held eye contact before the baby started laughing, having his small little hand on chosos pale face. Choso was shocked to say the least. He didn't think his baby would giggle when he saw him, but he certainly isn't mad.

Waking up a while later, you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. That was a good sleep. Turning your head over to see where choso went, you stared at the cute sight.

Choso, in the seat next to your bed, was sitting there, sleeping. The baby was cradled in his arms with a strong grip, but not a uncomfortable grip. They both snored away, making you giggle a bit, reaching out to hold chosos hand and whispering,

“I love you two boys.”

⭒​SHIU KONG↫​

personal taxi..

Staring at the cars passing out the window, looking bored. You then started having a competition between two raindrops on the window.

Seeing that the specific raindrop that you were rooting for to win had lost, already soured your mood.

“im hungry, shiu. Can we go to the bakery? Pretty pleasee? I really, really want to get that new donut flavor they released!” you begged. Shiu, your very lovely husband who may or may not drive to the shop, sighed.

“babe, you just ate. We literally had a mcdonalds 10 minutes ago.”

“okay, but im carrying your baby. You do realise that there's another mouth to feed, and that im going to tear my body trying to give birth to your baby right?” you whined, batting your pretty lashes at him. No matter what, he always gives in. I mean, who could argue with that? That's the truth.

Smiling cheekily at him, you began to slightly kick your feet, excited he's complying. Works everytime.

looking at all the buildings that passes the vehicle, you can tell your almost near your destination.

feeling the baby kick, you accidentally let out a grunt. “that damn baby..” you mutter through furrowed brows. Shiu laughs, “no way you're already cursing out our baby.. not even out yet, doll. Im sure theyre just excited as you are going to this damn bakery.” you roll your eyes, not wanting to retort back to his remark. I mean, you don't blame your baby for being excited, because you love it too. as soon as they were born, you can bet that your taking them here every time possible.

seeing the building you were dying to see, a smile formed on your face. Hunger took over your body, jumping out of the car as soon as shiu parked and turned it off.

“aye, woman! Would you wait on me, jeez.. impatient women these days..” shiu called out, muttering the last part so you wouldn't hear. He knows he would get a red ear if you did. hurrying out as he also knows that you would huff if he dared to take 5 seconds longer and would've went without him. Not only that, but he didn't want you to trip over anything to hurt yourself.

shiu put his hands around your waist as you two walked. A cute little detail you adored.

The bell rang when you opened the door, the waitress greeting you when she walked passed. The aroma was hints of warm coffee and cinnamon. It felt really comforting, whixh is why your a usual customer.

Thankfully, there wasn't much of a line, but long enough for time to think about your order.

You were up next, so you two ordered.

Getting seated down the back right next to the window. You finished your pastry in about a minute while shiu was mid way into a bite, staring at you like you were crazy.

Both of you held eye contact before breaking it with a fit of laughs. You and Shiu couldn't wait for a third person giggling aswell, possibly a specific baby..

⭒​SUGURU GETO↫​

suguru's house rules

as soon as suguru found out that you, his wife, his one and only, got knocked up by him, he immediately made everything in the house baby proof. Even at the start at the pregnancy.

Raising two girls by himself wasn't easy, but now that he's experienced parenting, he knows all the tips and tricks.

“you will not be lifting a finger, unless you need to go to the restroom or something.. anyway, next if you need anything while I'm away, the girls will always be by your side if you need anything. If you need me at any time, I'm keeping my phone on me all day, just incase.” suguru says, with his cute little smile. You blink at him blankly, as if he doesn't tell you this everyday.

“sugu, you do realise I can do stuff by myself, right?” you say, tilting your head. You have this conversation everyday, yet you don't know why you bother because he never budges. You didn't want to treat your two angels, mimiko and nanako, like your servants while you sat there like royal.

“nonsense! I don't want my princess in there and my angel here moving around alot, don't want you to fall or anything, you know?” he mumbles. You glare up at him as he smiled sweetly at you. As if he didn't make a cheeky reference to the one to many times of when you got up when the two girls weren't looking, your poor knees gave out. And when suguru got that certain phone call, he seriously almost passed out in worry. After all of that, he still is wary of leaving the house most days, afraid something might happen again and he isn't there.

suguru sits back in satisfaction after just smothering you with kisses, something he usually does before he leaves for his cult. He hates dealing with them damn monkeys, but one of his many goals is to get as many curses as possible, so he'll take what he can get.

standing up, he calls put to the girls, who were currently making you lunch.

“mimi, nana! I'm leaving now, you coming to say bye?!” he yelled not to loud, not wanting to damage your hearing because of him. The two girls pounce on him, his arms full of his two angels.

“come home safe!” “hurry up coming home, there's a new cafe that opened and I wanna try it!” they squealed, suguru only chuckling in response, patting their head with his usual smile.

“take care of mommy over there, mkay?” suguru slightly bent down to their level, his voice low. They nodded enthusiastically, giving him one final hug before he went.

suguru closed the door, summoning his rainbow dragon. If he could marry you over and over, he would.

⭒​NANAMI KENTO↫​

worry 'bout yourself, baby!

wiping the slight dampness off your forehead, you finally made it to your destination. the nursery room. Putting your hands on your hip, you stared at the random peices of the unbuilt crib on the floor.

Peaking our the door and looking at your husbands closed office door, hearing him on the phone to his coworker. Perfect timing.

Recently, nanami has been working at home to watch over you a bit more, even though he has papers half the height of you to fill out. You didn't wanna bother him from his work again today, and plus, you wanted to be independent and brag about how you built this crib by yourself to your baby later. But, you knew nanami would get kind of mad that you lifted a finger, you didn't care.

If you sat down on the floor to even sort it out, you wouldnt get back up again and would need kentos help. And so, bending down to pick up the peices, you started to feel dizzy after a bit of back and forth of putting the pieces on the table.

'only a few peices left.' the thought trailed through your mind after each peice. Although, your baby thought otherwise, giving a nice brutal kick on the walls of your belly. A sudden yelp came, followed by a quick slap to the mouth as you have now blown your cover. Thr house was silent. Not hearing the mumble of kentos voice, now hearing the footsteps coming to the nursery. Mentally cursing our baby out, the door opened.

“honey? whats wrong? why are you- don't tell me you're trying to build the crib again?” kento said, scratching his blonde undercut. Smiling sheepishly with a slight nod.

“dear, I told you I would build it as soon as I get through the paperwork, didn't I?” kento says, shaking his head.

“but! you were in your office, already filled to the brim with workload and that damn paperwork. I didn't want to make it your new problem, you know? You're always taking care of me. And who told you that even a quarter of that shit was alright? I can have a word with them if you want.”

“my love, you will never be a problem to me, ever. What kind of husband would I be if I thought that? You're crazy.” Kento says, a small smile forming on his lips at thought of you worrying about him and his wellbeing. A rare sight indeed.

“and instead of worrying about me, worry about yourself, yeah? I'm sure your back is broke, my love. Please rest yourself, it's not good for the baby if you don't get rest, i told you this. Lets get you to the living room, yeah?” kento says into your neck, not giving you a choice.

Kento put his hands on your lower back, slowly massaging the spot you usually get sore. guiding you down the living room humming your favourite tune. almost in time for your reality show to be on, your luck.

Wasn't long until your eyes was stuck on the tv, drama brewing on the first few seconds.

Kento stands there, content. Not because of the tv show, no, its you. He wouldn't know where he would he standing, whether it would be on earth or the skies, without you.

⭒​TOJI FUSHIGURO↫​

short tempered woman and tired husband.

“woman, I am not going to feed you toothpaste.”

“well, why the hell not?!” you responded, rasing a brow. Toji grumbled, absolutely set on not giving you toothpaste for food.

“would you just sleep? I'm not giving you toothpaste to eat. Why the hell are you so weird?!”

“hhaaah?! What did you just say?!”

nights went on like that. Different item, same outcome. Toji with a red ear and your back to him. Toji doesn't know if your stable or not as you requested for a bowl of dirt to eat a few nights ago. He only knew about women's weird food craving a while ago when he saw you eating a chocolate bar with ketchup as a dip.

(toji finds it kinda hot when you get angry... kinky)

Toji put his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He let out a sigh before questioning you.

“are you eating toast and ice cream again?”

“yeah, so what? Any odds to you, old man..”

“oh, your so gonna regret that. We've been here before, and your belly bump is the result.” toji smirks, chuckling at your flushed face. And yet, his outcome is the same.

[acynicalsweetheart]

Could you please write high school reader with daddy issues and meeting Jimmy. She lies to her mother to drop her off at a friend's house just to see Jimmy. He grooms her and thinks he has power over her when one day she drugs him ties him up and rapes him when he wakes up. +using a dildo on him for funsies :3

LYING WHEN I SAY (trust me) !

pairing: jimmy x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

dead dove do not eat: 18+, non-con/rape, dub-con, grooming sort of, age gap, daddy issues, daddy kink, drugs, smoking, virginity loss

author's note: hai no dildo on jimmy unfortunately LMFAO did try to follow everything else tho.. umm this took forever and ending is very rushed and very ass.. it’s this long cause i felt i had to make it a fic for the grooming aspect so . yah. interaction/feedback appreciated!!

You’re on your way home when this strange, shady type you’ve seen lurking outside of your school walks up to you. Is this it? The last moment of your life, the end, kaput? Okay, paranoia’s getting the better of you, might just be a new janitor or something—

“You got a lighter?” He asks ever-so-casually. 

He’s… old. Real old. Like, fourty-something kind of old. 

“What?” 

“A lighter?” He makes a gesture with his hand, pretending to draw a lighter flame with his thumb. 

“Umm… no,” why the hell would you have a lighter? “No I—I don’t, sorry.”

You didn’t think you looked that old. Or like you smoke, for that matter. It’s kind of hard to take offense to his words though, when he’s that cute. Cute in a hobo sort of way. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, hand gliding down his rough face like you not having a lighter is the worst thing since Elvis. 

Is this what they call withdrawal? 

“But I think they have some at the store.” You point your finger down the street, giving him a once-over and - for safety - deciding to add, “they’re cheap.”

“Forget it.” He tells you sternly, dismissing you with a wave of his hand like you’re cigarette smoke before walking away—opposite direction to the store. 

You’re left there standing awkwardly, shifting your weight across your feet. Body moving before you have time to think, you trail after him. 

“I can buy them for you, if you want,” ‘cause you’re a pushover and a people pleaser and an idiot all at once. 

He scoffs, glances at you over his shoulder. “You think they’re gonna let a little girl like you buy lighters?” 

“Well, I…” You can’t tell if he’s angry with you or if his face just naturally looks like that, pulled into a perpetual scowl. 

“Just take ‘em,” he shrugs. 

“Can’t you take them?” He might look broke, but surely—

“I would, if I was still allowed in the stores.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, looking down at your shoes. That’s unbelievably hot. Is he a felon or something? 

“Yeah. Oh.”

And so maybe you do end up taking a lighter, casually shoving it into your pocket and walking out of the store, egged on by a man you were convinced was the school janitor. You actually still aren’t sure if he is or not. 

He leads you to some lightly secluded street. The sun’s setting and you should really get back home. 

“Umm, here…” your hands shake when you hand it over, fingers brushing against his callused ones. “Mister—”

“Jimmy.” He grabs the lighter like it was his all along, like you didn’t just feel your heart falling out of your ass when you committed an actual crime for him. 

“Jimmy,” you try out his name carefully, syllables rolling off your tongue in a way that tells you you’re meant to be. 

“You know, since you were such a good girl for me,” Jimmy pulls out a cigarette from a package you didn’t know he had and holds it out for you to see. “Why don’t we share one of these?”

It takes a minute for you to get back on earth. 

“Oh, I don’t… do that,” you scratch the back of your head, knowing all too well that you’d get a third degree ass beating if your mom knew. “Smoke, I mean.”

“Had my first cig at nine, you’ll be fine,” Jimmy says nonchalantly with the cancer-stick hanging from his lips, his gaze pressing you subtly as he glares up at you. “First time for everything.”

He’s too irresistible and you don’t want to seem like a pussy in front of the only cool, older guy to ever pay you attention. 

So you give in. Lord help you.

“O—okay, umm,” you awkwardly take a seat on the pavement next to him, too scared to look him in the eye. “I don’t really know how to.”

“You know how to use a lighter, don’t you?” You wonder how many cigarettes he’s smoked to get his voice this rough. If it gets rougher for every cigarette. 

“Yes…” Your experience goes as far as having only ever used matches to light candles. 

Hands still shaking like crazy, you struggle to light his cigarette. Jimmy scoffs and you shrink.

“There.” 

Once you finally muster up the courage to look at him, it’s clear how unimpressed he is. 

“Saw what I did there? You gotta inhale like this,” Jimmy takes another drag and you feel a cough building up in your chest just by watching. “Try it,” he blows out, hands over the smoke.

“Okay…” Jimmy helps you hold the cigarette like he’s your father and you’re his baby and the dart is a spoon. Well, you weren’t wrong about the coughing. 

“No, no,” for the first time since you met, his upside-down mouth goes upwards and your heart skips a beat. “Gotta do it twice, so you feel it here,” Jimmy presses his palm to your chest, accidentally brushing his fingertips against your breasts in the process. 

“Oh.” You almost moan, thankfully covered up by your coughs.

Jimmy helps you till you get it right, till there’s no cigarette left to be smoked. He doesn’t even put it out, just drops it onto the ground. 

“Better keep this a secret from mommy, huh?” 

Heat of embarrassment spreads across your face like a wildfire of some sort, and you freeze up. It’s like Jimmy can see right through you. 

“Yeah…” you reply quietly, playing with your fingers. 

But maybe you end up having your first kiss that evening, exchanging cigarette-flavoured spit with a stranger whom you met only a couple of hours ago. Maybe you let his hand trail further up your thigh than what was appropriate. 

And maybe you keep coming back for more. 

Hanging out with Jimmy becomes a regular part of your schedule. The secrecy of it is even more of a thrill—feels just like those colourful pills he shows you that make you feel as if you’re on another planet.  

Mommy dearest doesn’t know a thing, and daddy dearest… Well, Jimmy’s pretty much the closest thing you have to a daddy dearest. 

He’s so different and so cool and you feel so ashamed that you let him touch you and kiss you. 

Jimmy’s your new world—he shows you these grassy things that you can roll and smoke like cigarettes and make you all dopey. He shows you this trashy, thrashy music that makes your ears hurt, not just ‘cause it’s that loud but ‘cause it’s that bad. He shows you that fingers can go in holes and places you never knew, that mouths can go where nobody is allowed. 

He shows you fun. You think you’re in love. 

You think you should die.

Jimmy finishes up rolling his joint, exhaling the smoke right in your face once he’s lit it. “You know, you should call me Daddy while we try it.” 

It. The new thing. For you, obviously. The fuck, the sex, the cherry-popping. Jimmy can practically smell your virginity on you. 

“You can—you can… do that?” You question meekly, gaze zeroing in on his blunt, too scared to look him in the eye. Too scared to say a sentence properly around him, really. “I mean, it’s not wrong? It… feels kind of wrong, it’s what you call your dad.”

“Knew a guy who called his girlfriend mom in bed.” And that guy is Jimmy, a couple of months ago actually. Not his proudest moment. But what’s done is done. 

“Eww,” you snort like he’s told a joke. 

After a moment of awkward silence and two guitar solos from the background music, Jimmy puts the dart down, letting the fugly thing sit and burn on a makeshift ashtray in the form of a plate. After 30 years of smoking you’d think he’d be better at getting them to look fucking decent at the very least. 

“So? You’re gonna let me fuck you?” Jimmy asks into your neck, kissing it lazily so there’s less of a chance of you turning him down. 

“I… don’t know, Jimmy.” You say so quietly he has to physically exert himself to hear you. Shouldn’t have. “I mean, we don’t really know each other that well and I—“ 

Way to ruin the mood.

He pulls away from your neck, groaning out of pure annoyance. “Come on, don’t be such a fucking milksop.”

“…What’s a milksop?” You ask, wide-eyed and newborn. 

God, you’re making Jimmy feel old. He has to deliberately simplify words when talking to you, speak in fucking baby phrases ‘cause you’re a baby and the only language you understand is goo-goo goddamn ga-ga. 

“Forget it,” he pinches his nose bridge and tries to not combust, “just let me do it. You didn’t come all the way here just so we could sit and listen to Pantera, did you?”

You look at Jimmy like he is speaking an ancient foreign language. 

Right. He forgot you’re not only incompetent but uncultured as well.

“You don’t even know how old I am, Jimmy, I could be—“ Off you go again with your incessant babbling. Just when are you going to realize that he doesn’t give a fuck? 

“You’re legal, aren’t you?” 

“Well yeah,” your head hangs lowly, the skin on your arms suddenly looking a lot more interesting so you start picking on it. “I am but, Jimmy, it’s like you don’t even care.”

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, in every fucking sentence. You want him so bad—you’re just too pussy to say it out loud, which is literally what he was trying to tell you. He’ll just simply have to show you.

Jimmy is overdue for some good ‘ol cherry-popping after all. 

Resuming his biting on your neck, he says things the way they are to hear you gasp. “That’s ‘cause I don’t.”

“That sounds naughty…” 

He almost bursts out laughing, keep talking like that and you’ll end up in a porno in no time. 

“You’ll let me do it,” Jimmy bares your tits, pulling your dress down, “won’t you, baby?” ‘Cause a pet name or two is all it takes to get you to melt. 

You’re pushed down onto the bed before you can even reply. Left in only your underwear before you can even blink. 

“Okay, Jimmy…” you say timidly. 

“Remember what I told you?” His fingers trail down your tummy till he finds your panties, the print and ribbon something you’re much too old to be wearing. 

“Daddy,” your voice gets stuck in your throat when he palms your clothed mound. “Yes, daddy,” you correct shakily.

And Jimmy’s fingers slide underneath the fabric, struggling to fit two in your pussy. You’re squeezing him so tight he thinks they might fall off and get stuck inside you. 

He doesn’t let you cum.

That’s an activity that takes place on Jimmy’s dick and nowhere else. 

Once your panties are off and you’re naked like the day you were born in front of him—dripping onto the sheets, Jimmy lazily pulls his cock out and you stare like it’s your first time ever seeing one.

“Like what you see?” It’s a rhetorical question, there’s a 95% chance that you’re judging him. Shit looks more like a wild animal than a dick if Jimmy’s being entirely honest. 

“Is it going to fit?” You’re blinking up at him with those awfully glossy eyes of yours. “Daddy,” you add a minute too late. 

“Don’t know,” Jimmy tells you honestly. 

He prods at your entrance, trying to find the right angle that will slide him right in after a nice little struggle. Your expression contorts every way, resembling a crumpled napkin more than your actual face. 

“Ouch, Jim—I mean, daddy,” your eyes and mouth are wide open, looking like Jimmy’s impaling you with a knife and not his dick. “It hurts.”

Dramatic much?

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he keeps pushing in, managing to get a quarter of his tip inside. “Nobody ever tell you that?”

“No…” you heave out, gripping onto his arms for dear life as he very choppily forces himself into your hole. 

Jimmy coos at you unenthusiastically, “poor little girl.”

(You are, probably never heard of sex till Jimmy mentioned it.)

He doesn’t let you get adjusted—immediately starting to fuck you harder, faster, rougher than one should a virgin. Jimmy’s popping your cherry, alright. Can even spot a thin red layer coating his dick already. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” you whimper under your breath with every thrust into your cunt. Kind of hilarious. 

“You like it.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

“I… like it,” you repeat with the most pained look on your face, tears pricking at your lash lines. 

Jimmy makes sure you feel all of his cock, drilling deep enough to feel your fleshy cervix ‘cause he’d like to hear you scream. 

“Daddy,” you kick your legs, pussy struggling to keep Jimmy’s dick inside you. “Oh, daddy.” Not quite a scream. 

“Yeah,” his eyes are glued to your stretched entrance, growing impossibly harder at the sight of your ruined pussy—ruined innocence. “Gonna make daddy cum already.”

“Not inside…”

Oh and now you’ve suddenly taken sex-ed classes? 

Jimmy keeps slamming his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room, he can hear you loud and clear over it. Purposely letting his groans loose so you really get the hint. 

“Not inside, Jimmy, pleasepleaseplease not inside!” You claw anywhere and everywhere you can reach, trying to get him off. Didn’t he explicitly tell you to call him daddy?

“Huh?” His hips stutter against yours, movements turning sloppy as his balls tighten—readier than ever. “Can’t hear you, sweetheart.” 

Just a moment later, Jimmy cums inside, shoots like a fucking pistol—bullets in the form of sperm straight into your womb.

You start sobbing.

Jimmy’s never been good at comforting so he rubs your clit in consolation. 

“Better cum on daddy’s cock soon,” it’s like he’s speaking to a fucking brick wall. A crying, teenage-girl-shaped brick wall. “Getting pretty sensitive over here.” 

Can’t exactly tell with your hands over your face but Jimmy thinks you cum, ‘cause you squeal and push his dick out. 

Well, could’ve gone worse. 

“I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you whisper between sniffles after receiving the thickest creampie Jimmy has ever given anybody. Uh huh. 

He pulls out with a sloppy pop! and watches his cum mixed with your blood drip out of your gaping cunt, soaking through he’s sheets that he’s most definitely not going to clean. 

Jimmy’s been smoking and drinking since before he fucking grew balls, do you seriously believe that his sperm’s going to knock you up? If Jimmy became a sperm donor, the only thing he’d be giving out is strains of herpes—not babies. To put things into perspective. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He tucks his softening dick back into his pants, “a plan-B should do the trick.”

“Okay…” you’re crawled up like a frightened mouse—a naked frightened mouse, all sorts of questionable fluids leaking out of all your holes. “Okay, Jimmy.”

At least you seem to know what a plan-B is. Jimmy half-expected you to go but Jimmy I didn’t have a plan-B! I didn’t even want to sleep with you in the first place! in that whiny voice you do that makes him want to light himself on fire. 

And for safety’s sake—partly out of spite, “I heard they sell some at the store. Could get it for cheap.”

“You’re not gonna buy it for me?” You’re shaking like you have fucking hypothermia. 

He shrugs. Only time not being allowed in stores has ever been of a convenience to Jimmy. 

Once you’re dressed he ushers you out of his apartment that he hasn’t paid rent for in a couple of months. 

“Bye.” Jimmy says slackly, pushing you out of the threshold to his place. 

“But—“ you start frantically, confusion written all over your features.

He shuts the door in your face. Locks it, twice. 

Through the peephole of his door, Jimmy can see how you’re limping like a lamb born yesterday on the way out. He bets your mommy ain’t gonna be too happy about that. 

You’re so sick and tired of Jimmy treating you like shit. How is he allowed to do that and get away with it? Every single time. 

He’s a sad sack of pure sleaze and you can’t believe you let him take your virginity all those months ago. 

You sneak into his place unnoticed because he’s such a sad sack of pure sleaze that he hasn’t even locked his door. He’s asking for it. 

From the hallway you can see that his glass is empty. Jimmy’s rolling one of those grassy things again, watching the TV and listening to his shitty music. You haven’t even seen Jimmy’s face yet but you know that he looks thirty years older every time you do. 

Disgusting.

You’ll sleep with him one last time. 

You trail into the kitchen with the stealth of an elephant, knocking over a lone empty beer can on the floor in the process, yet Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice. 

Rummaging through his cabinets, you’re reminded of this conversation between Jimmy and his really cute friend with a very unusual name that you can’t remember. Jimmy was telling him about the roofies he keeps in the fourth cabinet while his friend just laughed awkwardly. 

They should do the trick. 

Rohypnol reads the package, half of the pills are missing. Foul. But then again—this is Jimmy you’re talking about. 

You put a singular green oval pill in his drink, watching it dissolve and colour the alcohol a shade weirder. 

Jimmy groans from the living room and you scramble to hide underneath his table like a scared little kid. Your freak of a not-boyfriend - ‘cause he never did ask you out - actually drinks the shit in one gulp. 

After a moment he stumbles into his bedroom and you think he passes out ‘cause you hear obnoxiously loud snores echoing throughout the entire apartment. 

Guess this is your time to shine. And… fuck. 

Fuck, that word is so unnatural—so vulgar. And Jimmy uses it so casually. 

To embarrass him the way he’s embarrassed you countless times, you undress the entirety of Jimmy’s body apart from his feet—never his feet. 

You decide that restraining Jimmy might be for the better ‘cause he’s like a wild fucking rabid animal when he’s drunk. Actually, you don’t know if he is drunk but all for safety’s sake, right? 

You’re trying to make this as un-personal as it can be but Jesus he is hot. You just have to feel him up one last time. How there’s not one area that’s not covered in at least some hair, cute brown and puffy nipples, and his dick. 

The one that sits there sadly and all alone, giving you puppy eyes. 

Maybe it’s a miracle that Jimmy is soft so you can play with it for just a little. Maybe it’s a shame that Jimmy’s not awake to grab your hair and force you down all the way till you’re gagging and choking around him. 

Once he’s hard you slide off your panties and bare one of your tits ‘cause you’re feeling kind of bad for Jimmy against your will. How he’s the only one naked. 

Sliding down on his cock, it feels just like the first time—stings like hell. But this is your revenge after all so you suck it up. Bounce up and down until your slickness can’t keep quiet and is coating his length. 

It actually feels good when you’re the one in control for once. When you have time to adjust, to feel it inside you in a way that feels more like sex than getting stabbed repeatedly. 

Jimmy’s eyes do that weird back and forth thing that looks a little demonic—his body twitches like you’re an exorcist and not a technical rapist. He’s fighting against literal sedatives, it’s kind of funny. 

You keep riding him. 

All Jimmy remembers is thinking that he’s gonna get another drink and get back to his nice fucking joint before he very oddly lost consciousness. Shit was a real scare, thought he died and went straight to hell for a second. 

No—the real scare is that he’s awoken by a weight in his lap, a death grip around his dick like somebody’s trying to rip it off, and most importantly, you. 

You’re the weight in his lap, the death grip around his dick because of course you fucking are. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jimmy asks very rightfully angry. Let a man smoke for fuck’s sake. 

Moving your hips back and forth like it’s your first time horseback riding, you counter with a half-aborted,  “shut—shut up, Jimmy…” 

Yeah, that’s real convincing. You can’t even get the words out without stuttering. Probably the first time you’ve ever told somebody to shut up in your life.

“No.” Jimmy is a man and men do not take orders from women let alone little girls. 

You slow your pace and Jimmy is about to push you off when he notices that he fucking can’t because he’s tied up like he’s in a torture chamber. 

Creativity must not be your strong suit seeing as you’ve used three of his belts and a pink sparkly jumping rope for his left foot. 

“Fuck,” he thrashes in your makeshift bondage fantasy come to life, “get off me, bitch.”

“No.” You tell him and force your polka-dot fucking panties in his mouth. 

They taste good so who’s really losing here? 

“I’ll kill you,” Jimmy tries to say with your underwear down his throat. It comes out inaudible and muffled and you fucking laugh. 

“Mmm, yes, kill me, Jimmy.” You run a cold finger down his chest, put on this sexy voice. “That’s so hot.”

He can’t tell if you’re joking or if you’re just being fucked up like always. 

“I’m serious,” it’s like he’s fucking chewing the fabric. 

“You’re sexist? That sounds right.”

Jimmy fucking gives up, flopping down all boneless onto the mattress and glaring at the ceiling ‘cause he can’t stand your face. “Oh my God.”

Contrary to what Jimmy’s saying and doing, he actually quite enjoys it. Well, he would have, were you a fraction of a better rider. This is exactly why you don’t let virgins stick around. Either way, he wants you to stop because you’re fucking embarrassing him—he’s stuck underneath you like a damn sissy. And you can’t even get him let alone yourself off. Should just fucking give up and let Jimmy take care of the raping. 

He’s been there, done that. 

He endures your clear first attempt at roofying for about five minutes until you force yourself to cum. You’re obviously faking it for whatever reason, squeezing out ooh’s and ah-ah-ah’s like a pornstar. 

“Fucking ugly slutbag,” Jimmy decides to add as his dick kicks inside you, a couple of more bounces away from filling you up the way he knows you like it. 

“Whatever you say, Jimmy.”

And your bitch-ass just gets up and leaves. Jimmy is stuck in your makeshift restraints, panties in his mouth and butt fucking naked. Ruined orgasm at that. Fucking cunt. 

He’s going to burn your goddamn house down. 

[sprytesukii]

you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.���

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

[felibrary]

"i love you, i'm sorry"

pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)

synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?

wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet

tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)

author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO

in his world, love leaves behind traces. 

be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  

gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.

alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.

despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 

so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 

aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.

eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.

kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.

presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.

it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 

(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)

there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together

but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.

aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.

so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?

there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 

before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.

“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.

he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 

countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—

“i love you, i’m sorry.”

his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)

the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.

he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 

he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.

“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.

nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”

“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.

you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”

this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.

a mystery, you say?

aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he’d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.

so here it is — his heart laid bare.

end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.

also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[amhrosina]

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 

“What happened?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?” 

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @deactivating-this-blog @bxmaaa @kentdreamingspam

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭...

...you'll be able to find each ghost boy (under their respective section, ofc lol) in the master list all with the same title :). I decided to just do them all one at a time to keep from having you wait any longer/forcing myself to pump them all out in one go/one long ass post lmao.

plus, to hopefully make it easier, I'll just tag you each time as the requester so you know, if that's okay lol♡.

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

while it's always fun to imagine (haha, get it💀) what it'd be like for him to be your best friend or your boyfriend, there's times when you yearn for that tension. that something in between that's more than a platonic relationship, but just short of being a lover. and I'm here to revive that feeling of what it'd be like for robin arellano to have a crush on you...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x robin arellano - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s - the grabber doesn't exist

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing - robin lowkey being a menace💀 - him also liking you tho - mentions of fighting/violence - manhandling,,, kind of?? (idk I personally wouldn't call it that, but- 😭✋🏽) - me focusing a little too much on the jealousy stuff lol whoops🧍🏽‍♀️...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

I feel like he doesn't really "crush" on ppl. He finds people attractive and that's about as far as that's gonna go lmfao. If anything, he finds it fun to recognize/point out the difference between when people are conventionally/deemed by society's standards "attractive" vs when HE actually finds somebody to be a good looker to HIM (he wanna be different so bad🙄✋🏽).

But like I said, him finding someone hot doesn't really go anywhere. He doesn't do/say anything about, nor go out of his way to force things, especially when there's no prior connection/feelings there.

On that note, I feel like for him to have a crush on you (reader), two things would need to be an order; You'd have to attract him one way or another. Like, there's gotta be something about you that makes him have that, "Oh, she's fine as hell, I gotta talk to her." mindset towards you, even if he'd have yet to act on it. And, there's gotta be, like I said, a prior connection.

Or, you could get lucky, and a very specific set of circumstances could spark something up between y'all. He's not opposed to a meet-cute😻.

If y'all were already friends/close, he'd deny👏🏽deny👏🏽deny👏🏽 having feelings for so long. Not towards you, but towards himself. He would deadass be lying to himself about liking you romantically, even a little a bit, but unfortunately, it'd be one of those things that sneaks up on him one day and then just all comes crashing down into one existential crisis.

But even after accepting them, he'd STILL not bother to do anything about it - not bc he doesn't think he has a chance (well, maybe a little bit, but see if he'd tell anyone that), but also bc he doesn't want to ruin the friendship between y'all.

He'd hate to lose you just because he woke up "...on some bullshit, bro, I can't believe I like her..." one day, so he's more than likely to keep quiet about it.

Although, he can say that's what he's doing all he wants, his actions kind of prove otherwise; he might accidentally drop a subtle hint or two, and the stuff that he normally does that held the air of friendship and loyalty suddenly becomes a bit more,,, ✨️🧡💫💋, ykwim?

If he's walking with you, maybe crossing the street or something, he could care less about how far you are behind him if it meant getting to the nearest idk Burger King or whatever faster💀✋🏽. Or at school - sure, he might be on the look out for you if he's bored, or should he hear anyone tarnishing your name without you there to defend yourself on your own, shoot them a dirty look. And even just hanging out at the drive-in; it's viewed as more of a casual hangout than anything.

But let a crush develop some,,, let him become a little infatuated with you... Now, all of the sudden, crossing the street is a whole ordeal; checking for cars is routine now, and whether you like it or not, he's got a hand wrapped around your wrist and is tugging you along gently with an alertness that both amused and perplexed you. And at school, he's now taking any free time he may have to actually go looking for you instead of your paths crossing due to natural coincidence, just to act as though he had no time at all to waste with you, and would pester you at your locker whenever he did spot you.

And, as much as he hated the way his hands would clam up and how his heart would beat out of his chest and how he practically had to force himself not to look for your reaction to every single scene of the movie he picked, he was insistent on having a specific schedule for going out to the movies now. And no, he'd never, ever let you pay, even when you really should've and definitely could've.

But...

Say if he hadn't known you beforehand tho, and y'all met through some sort of meet-cute or whatever,,, him starting to like you would be a little easier of a process for him.

Something he wouldn't be so against because there's "nothing" to ruin or fuck up besides his chances with you, so now he can pretty much just focus on not screwing that up.

He's way quicker to drop hints (not saying he's any smoother with it, but that's not gonna stop him from doing it lmfao cuz who finna check him😗😹).

It's things like really obvious (almost bad) flirting, and teasing that isn't in the same way as he might do with his regular friends. If anything, he might use it as an excuse to always be touching you in some way - OMG TELL ME HE WOULDN'T BE A CHRONIC "You got something on your shirt..." JUST TO FLICK YOUR FACE TYPE OF PERSON LMFAO!!

You'd hate it and look at him like, "😐" and he'd just get a kick out of it, looking at you and laughing every single time like he's comedy fckn central💀.

Or if he's telling you a story - probably about the last time he beat someone up - he's using you as "the other guy", gently tapping you with ghost punches and moving you about by the shoulders when need be lmao. And even just in general, when he's not storytelling,,, give him ONE good reason to try and be physical, and he'll take it and SPRINT.

And if you notice that fact (there's no way you possibly couldn't), all he'll do is smirk at you and go, "It's fine, you like it😌."

Bro just slaps on an obnoxious and obscene amount of confidence and calls it a day, basically. Fake it 'til you make it type of thing, and it most definitely works (you wouldn't be reading this if it didn't🤭🤷🏽‍♀️). But of course, let it be known he'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I just imagine he's rather cocky in his abilities to woo someone if he really, really wanted it, and well... it's you, so...

He really, really wants you LMFAO😭. Anyways, back on track...

I feel like he's definitely the jealous type, but he won't do anything about it/won't get outta pocket unless your well-being is at stake. Like, if you were clearly uncomfy in a situation, or you specifically came to him on some, "This guy's bothering me..." type shit, oh, it's 0-100 rq. He's absolutely beating the shit out of that person (more so than when he's just in a regular fight).

Because of that, he'll definitely be scary dog privilege, like, I'm sorry, but,,, I feel like he's the type to - once he decides he's gunning for you - that's it. Not in a possessive way, just in the sense that he's totally made up his mind and, as much as he likes to maybe slap on a chill and nonchalant-type persona, he actually cares very deeply about things and people that have an affect on him.

He's also a go-getter, so with all of that in mind, it makes sense that even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, he'd STILL make it known that he don't play about you lmfao. But even so, jealousy is also one of those things he just deny-deny-denies, will totally brush it off if you bring it up, even if you tease him for it.

But, he is a dork at the end of the day lmao tease him long enough and he'll eventually fold and just be like, "Nah it's just cuz I treasure you and I like you, like... would you rather I didn't care or just ignored it whenever a guy looked at you crazy? Exactly, hush, you love me😌✨️🧡." Once again, it's that seemingly blind confidence that definitely has you shaking your head a lot with a giggles escaping you, but YOU ALSO DON'T SAY NO/TELL HIM OTHERWSIE, SOOO😆🤭...!!

Honestly, with Robin being jealous, I feel like it's one of those things you dk/even realize he's feeling until it's "too late" - he's stalking towards someone you've complained about making you uncomfortable or he's already done what he needs to do, he's coming back to you, and after a short conversation with you pressing him about why and whatnot, it just hits you, and you're like, "Oh...Oh my god, you're jealous🤭..." and he's all "nO😡....."

"You lyin'?😆"

"...yeah😔..."

Although, jealously for you surprisingly isn't often. Like sure, girls dk how to back off, but not only are you both pretty secure, but he's also very reassuring. Both in speaking directly to you, telling you he doesn't really have eyes for them, AND towards the other people. He breaks hearts left and right, and it's highkey not even on purpose...

Bro just doesn't know how to let folks down easy - so much so that sometimes even YOU feel bad😭. Sometimes...

"You didn't have to say it to her like that...!"

"Wha-? But it's true! Should I have lied? Like..."

"No, but I'm just-! ... You need to learn to be more sensitive about these things😭..."

"Fym, I'm the most sensitive guy I know😙."

"...The kid whose nose you broke a month ago would say otherwise, but okay🙃."

But otherwise, if and when you're not scolding him, he finds your envy to be very endearing and validating. It lets him know that you are actually thinking about him in the romantic sense like he is you, and he just likes seeing you get all worked up lmfao. Something about your brows being furrowed and the heated look in your eyes reminds him of, well, himself! And he takes a little bit of pride in that, if he's being honest with himself, especially if it's a rare occurrence.

If you're normally this little sweetheart, and you're not exactly on the violent and/or temperamental side, in those moments where you might snap a little bit, he's DEFINITELY paying the most attnetion and he's DEFINITELY standing there like, 'Omgomgthat'shot-...' 💀😭.

If anything, I feel like these strong emotions from either one of you two could for sure be the gateway into him finding out/realizing you like him back...

Like, you'd definitely slip up one time, say something you weren't supposed to, or he'd reassure you way too much and let something slip, SOMETHING LIKE THAT, and either way, he finds out and he's like "Ohp🫢...AAAAH😃🫵🏽⁉️....YOU LIKE MEEEEE I KNEWWW ITTT🤪😘🫵🏽!!!"

He'd probably be too busy celebrating the fact he "...always knew and I'm always right about these things, blahblahblah..." while you stand there like, "🙄😒..." to remember there's actually supposed to be something following up after a whole ass love confession💀.

But, because you do, in fact, love him, I'm sure you'd be the one to fill in that gap, and short after, a very chaotic yet loving/meaningful relationship would ensue.

THAT BOY LOVESSS YOU, OKAAAY💋🧡✨️‼️‼️‼️

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐥...

...as I was writing this one (well, adding onto what had already been written), the app glitched, and the whole thing deleted itself...

shit pmo so bad, I just didn't touch it again for like a whole month😭✋🏽. it's also part of the reason why it's shorter than I actually intended, so I apologize, but I hope all enjoy it regardless🙏🏽♡.

next up is vance, tho !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@in3rci4

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

1,830 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[ccupcakeyss]

Hi I dunno if you write Zayne, but my academic life is stretching my patience thin, and making me question why I put myself in this situation in the first place haha. The only juicy part of my day to day is seeing the top of our class with her very low key senior boyfriend. The dude reminds me of Zayne!!! Both are valedictorian, competitive introverts (like debate team, sports, etc.), both surprisingly good with people, and BOTH HOT AND INTIMIDATING AF. The World is unfair. 🥲

Can you perhaps write Zayne with an equally competent SO (can be MC or no), but insecure compared to his achievements?

Academic power couple x toxic competition x assurance is 👌 🔥

YES OFCOURSE this seems so fun okay LETSGET WRITING

(✿ ᴗ ᴗ） COMPETITIVE HEARTS♩  ᛝ

SUMMARY: in a high school AU, you’re in a relationship with Zayne, a perfect, talented guy. struggling with insecurity as graduation approaches, you feel overshadowed by his success. Zayne reassures you that you’re enough just as you are, deepening your connection and proving that love and mutual support matter more than perfection.

CW: female reader, insecurity, competition, emotional vulnerability, intimate relationships, intimate moments, some heavy kissing, suggestive situations, and adult situations, fluff.

WC: 1.3K!

NOTES: okay so this doesnt have much detailed smut in it, it's more fluff and angst for like academic rivals. btw, to the person who requested this - im so sorry if i misinterpreted this LMFAO i might've done something different to what you asked but this is what i thought you mean ! hope you enjoy!

You’ve always prided yourself on being driven. Even as a kid, you were the one who stayed up late, pouring over textbooks, making sure you understood every equation, every word in every essay. Excellence wasn’t just a goal — it was a lifestyle. You had big dreams, and nothing was going to stop you from achieving them.

But now, in the final year of high school, you’re starting to wonder if it’s all worth it.

Because he is here.

Zayne. The guy everyone else in your grade looks up to. The valedictorian. The one everyone whispers about when they see him in the hallway, standing near the windows, dark eyes scanning the world around him as if he were too much for anyone to keep up with. He doesn’t try to act intimidating; it’s just who he is. Top of the class, debate team champion, and a guy who somehow excels at everything — even sports — despite being the definition of “cool detachment.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a thing for him. Hell, everyone had a thing for him. But there was one small problem: you were his girlfriend.

You were the one who’d caught his eye.

The days after graduation were a blur of parties, congratulations, and farewells. You could barely focus on any of it. All you could think about was Zayne. The way he looked at you. The way his hand felt wrapped around yours. He was going off to university soon, just like you were, but somehow, it felt like the time was slipping away too fast.

You hadn’t expected to feel so… insecure. Not now, not after everything you’d overcome together. But there it was, gnawing at the edges of your confidence.

Zayne was perfect. Always perfect.

You, on the other hand, were still trying to figure out how you were supposed to navigate this relationship — and your life — without falling short. Without feeling like you were constantly playing catch-up.

A week later, you were sitting on Zayne’s bed, your legs crossed, and a notebook open in front of you. You hadn’t touched it in hours, the pages were still blank, and you couldn’t focus on a single thing. Zayne had just come back from a long day of volunteering at a charity event for his future college. He looked so effortlessly put together, with his soft gray hoodie, his hair tousled just enough to look intentional.

“You’re staring at that notebook like it’s going to bite you,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor before sitting beside you.

You laughed softly, but it wasn’t genuine. “Just thinking,” you muttered, glancing at the pages again. You tried to focus but your thoughts kept drifting back to how much easier things seemed for him.

Zayne tilted his head, his eyes soft but piercing. “What’s really going on?"

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. “Nothing. Just… stress. I can’t concentrate.”

“You can’t focus on that because you’re trying to outrun me,” he said, his voice a little teasing but with a serious undertone. “That’s what this is, right? You think you need to beat me at something to be enough.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding a little faster. His eyes were steady, like he could read you like a book. “No. I don’t need to beat you. I just… feel like I’m never going to live up to your level. And it scares me.”

Zayne leaned closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Listen to me.” His voice dropped an octave, and you found yourself leaning in despite the nagging voice in your head. “I love you. All of you. And none of that—” he waved his hand vaguely toward your notebook “—none of that matters to me. Not as much as you do. You’re not my competition, and I don’t want you to ever think that. I want you beside me, not because you can keep up, but because you’re you. And that’s everything I need.”

You swallowed thickly, the warmth in his words flooding your chest. It was hard to admit it to him, but… you needed to hear this. You needed the reminder that you weren’t just the person constantly running behind him.

Your voice cracked slightly as you whispered, “But it’s hard. I’m not like you.”

Zayne’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. “I know you’re not. But that’s what I love about you.” His hand gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up so your eyes met his. “You’re not like me. And I don’t want you to be. I don’t want you to be anyone else. You’re exactly what I need.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, the hum of the outside world fading as you stared into his eyes. The vulnerability in your chest began to loosen. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, needed him, until now.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. It started slow, tentative, but Zayne responded with a deep, needy kiss that made your heart race. His lips tasted like mint and something entirely him. You slid your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Zayne’s hands drifted down to your waist, tugging you toward him until your chest was pressed against his. The heat between you two, the closeness, was enough to make your head spin.

“You’re all I need,” Zayne murmured between kisses. “You’re perfect to me.”

And that’s when you realized — maybe you didn’t need to be perfect in every way. Maybe the only thing that mattered was the way Zayne loved you, flaws and all.

Later that evening, after dinner and the usual quiet conversation, Zayne pulled you back into his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind you. The air between you was different now, more intimate. He’d taken a step back, both of you having processed the emotional weight that had been hanging between you for weeks.

But now, his touch was gentle, but insistent. He gently laid you on the bed, his body hovering over yours. There was nothing rushed about it, just a slow, patient exploration of one another. His lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, leaving soft kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ve wanted you like this for a while,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hands slipped under your shirt, the cool air on your bare skin sending another shiver through you.

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of desire and uncertainty. The tension that had been between you two earlier now manifested as a thick, intoxicating pull. You wanted this. You wanted him. But you still felt the weight of insecurity.

But Zayne’s soft kisses along your jawline seemed to quiet that voice in your head. “You don’t need to be anyone else,” he said, his breath hot against your skin as he slowly undid your shirt. “Not for me. Just be yourself.”

His words unraveled the last of your doubt, and you let yourself relax into his touch. His hands were soft but sure as they traced the curves of your body. His fingers slid along the waistband of your pants, and you gasped as he dipped lower, his touch teasing but gentle.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zayne murmured, his eyes dark with desire. He took his time, tracing every inch of your skin as if memorizing you. The tenderness of his touch made your heart race, the lingering insecurity melting away as you let yourself give in.

It was slow at first. His hands explored, and his kisses deepened as he undressed you. You could feel the tension in his body — he was holding himself back, waiting for you to tell him when it was too much.

But you didn’t want to stop. You needed this closeness. You needed to feel him, to know that it wasn’t just about accomplishments or accolades. It was about connection.

When he finally slid inside you, you gasped, your nails digging into his back. Zayne cursed softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head, your breath coming in shallow bursts. “No… it’s perfect.”

He moved slowly, patiently, letting you adjust, his eyes constantly scanning your face to make sure you were okay. It was everything you needed — his presence, his care, his love. It wasn’t about being perfect. It was about this. About him giving you the space to be exactly who you were.

“You’re more than enough,” he said again, his voice rough with desire. “More than I ever could have imagined.”

As the night went on, the love between you two grew, built on mutual understanding, trust, and the vulnerability you’d shared. You didn’t need to be better than him. You just needed to be with him.

Morning came, and as you woke, you found yourself wrapped in Zayne’s arms. His lips were softly pressed against your hair, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. No expectations. No competition. Just you two, together.

You looked up at him, his sleepy gaze meeting yours. “I love you,” you whispered.

He smiled, kissing your forehead softly. “And I love you. Don’t forget that. You’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

And with that, the last of your insecurities melted away. You were enough. You had always been enough.

[liiixsturniolos]

☆ " I bet on losing dogs. " ☆

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, you and Matt break up.

summary; Matt and you were doomed from the start, and you come to realise that's why you picked him...

Listen while you read! 👇

You and Matt are sitting in his van. He'd asked to go on a drive. You both often did this, especially at night. It helped you clear your head, and you loved the sound of the rain pelting against the car windows.

"So.." Matt starts to talk and pulls into a carpark.

A wave of anxiety flutters through your body. You knew what was coming, the arguments, the petty comments, you were constantly irrated by each other.

"So?" You ask him, your voice trembling, hands shaking.

"I- I don't know how to tell you this." He mumbles quietly, trying to put off what he wants to say.

"It's okay. I know what's happening." You tell him, already forgiving him before it had even started.

"Oh. I- well.. we have just argued so much lately. It's not like how it used to be." He says, his voice breaking, as if he were going to cry. But he didn't.

You did, though.

You broke down into tears. You knew this was going to happen. You blamed yourself for how stupid you were, believing this could've ever lasted forever.

You cursed yourself for believing when he'd told you he loved you and wanted to marry you one day.

You shuffled around in the cold leather seat of Matts van, wiping your flooding tears spilling from your eyes.

Matt looks at you, watching you wipe your tears, the pout displayed on your face and his eyes start to burn and water, he feels terrible, shuddering next to you but he doesn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry." He insists.

"It's okay, I agree, we aren't the same together as we used to be, this will be good for us both." You say, lying.

You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and convince him to stay, beg him to work things out, but you knew he'd made a final decision.

He drives you home. His eyes shifted constantly from your face to the road, unsure how to feel or what to look at.

His eyes water, and his vision is hazy as he drives slowly, turning into your street, wishing the drive could be a little longer, so he'd stay with you for a few more minutes.

"Bye, Matt." You mumble, getting out of his car.

He pauses, and it takes a while for him to respond. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if he's re-thinking things, then blurts out. "Bye..."

You turn away, walking up your driveway to your door, hoping he's not looking at you as you start to sob uncontrollably.

But Matts is watching you, longing for you, regretting things.

A few cold tears roll down his face as he pulls the car out of your driveway, watching you open your door, knowing this may be the last time he'll drop you off in this car, maybe even the last time he'll talk to you.

What if 'bye' would be the end of it all? The last thing he said to you?

Memories played over in his head as he drove, the kisses, the jokes, everything was swirling around his mind, every good memory but none of the bad ones.

heyy prettyyy!! Sorry if this was a little sad. lmfao! But reminder to interact with this post if you like it, comments, reblogs, likes are all greatly appreciated!! I love reading comments!!

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | DC Convention, September 22, 2024, Main Panel Summary

(FangasmSPN)

Jensen apparently filmed all night on Friday and flew straight here ??? does he sleep???? (x) JJ to her dad: I miss you so much I can't even function. @JensenAckles : I have a few more years of being the center of her universe #SPNDC (x) When asked what they would tell their 16-year old that wants a tattoo, @JensenAckles "A tattoo is a story. You should wait until you've lived enough life to have a good story." (x) Jensen: at 15 you don't have anything figured out yet so just tell her that (x) “There was a scene where dean gets upset and takes a crow bar to the car… and that hurt. That hurt Jensen. But they actually had a panel there so, just so you know, I wasn’t hitting… ✨her✨” (x) Someone asked if there’s a question that they’re like “ugh i hope they hope people don’t ask this agaINNNNN”and Jared said some of the prank stuff i could kiss him (x) Jensen did say tho that even questions they’ve been asked before they think on them over time and there’s not really an “oh no” question cuz we’re all so respectful and good about stuff and if there IS a problem they’ll be like “not answering that NEXT” (x) Jensen: My partner on this new show is 6’6. a 265 lb rugby player. I look TINY compared to him. Like a little baby boy #spndc (x) Question: "Is there anything you would like people to know about you?" @JensenAckles "I am not a good liar. Being an actor, you'd think I'd be a better liar, but I'm not. @DanneelHarris catches me whenever I try." (x) Apparently Danneel can always fucking tell when Jensen is lying lmfao she’s like “you’re AWFUL at that” (x) .@JensenAckles : I wish these communities of fans existed when we were young. I'm glad they do today. #SPNDC (x) Fan: I have anxiety and depression so i just need advice on how to handle it Jared: i seek professional help. i do! Jensen: I think you’ve already taken a huge step in just admitting it to a room of hundreds. know its a journey. It's not something that just gets fixed (x) Dream roles they’ve always wanted to play Jensen: batman. James Bond. Indiana Jones. and a Jedi. (x) Fan: *ask abt video games* Jensen: Dean would just kill dance dance revolution (x)

[formulafics]

❀ NEW DESIRE | MV1

SCENARIO: you and max are childhood friends. despite claiming a platonic relationship - or rather, not claiming a romantic one, fans are certain that there’s more to what you both have, especially when max openly simps for you on streams, and most definitely when his private account gets leaked.

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

AN: i am so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! that being said, i hope you still enjoy it! thank you for your patience and your request 🫶🏻 also i did use google translate for the dutch part so if you speak dutch im so sorry LMFAO

as always, a shoutout to @renarots because these fics truly would not be as good without their input. <3

if you saw me change the title, no you didn’t

MASTERLIST

YNLN on Instagram stories

grandprixsandgossip on instagram

14,567 likes

grandprixsandgossip for a long time, fans of max verstappen have questioned his relationship with childhood friend yn ln. recently, the formula one drivers’ private instagram account posts were leaked after a fan somehow was accepted to follow his private account, which features many pictures of him and yn, dating all the way back to 2014.

you can find the archive of his posts on our website by following the link in our bio. while we weren’t able to gather every comment and like, we were able to get a majority of the posts!

what are your thoughts?

view all 782 comments

formulaverstappen okay so this is pure he-said-she-said, but apparently on the holidays post, max’s sister commented “just friends? 😉” and max responded with the 😳 emoji I AM SICK

rizzciardo anyone who still thinks they’re just friends is LYING to their self

lnnation haunted by the fact that yn learned dutch for max and she helped him learn english

formulanorriz if he doesn’t ask her out at this rate, IM GOING TO

GRANDPRIXSANDGOSSIP.COM

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv goede race, nog betere mensen ❤️ of moet ik zeggen persoon haha (great race, even better people or should i say person haha)

ynln zoveel liefde voor jou. ik ben zo trots op je ❤️🏆 (so much love for you. i’m so proud of you. )

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv out of office

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv happy holidays 🎄

victoriaverstappen just friends? 😉

It’s funny, the way Max is. He’s blunt all the time, but this is different. A part of you is worried that maybe he’s upset, that perhaps something like this will be the reason you and him stray apart - you can’t imagine it. The thought of being anything but with Max matches your chest tighten, and even though you’d like to think that isn’t the case, you can’t be sure.

The wait for Max to arrive at your house is almost torturous. Your mind is racing, and by the time you hear his car pull up, you’re damn near shaking out of your skin. He doesn’t even have to knock or ring the doorbell - hell, he’s barely out of the car when you open your front door and step outside. You study his body language, trying to determine what exactly to expect. You just can’t clock it. With a sharp inhale, you lock your door and then make your way towards the car.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, uncertainty making your voice waver. “Yes,” Max responds simply. It’s a genuine yes, and in fact, he sounds almost happy. Your brows furrow in confusion as he opens the passenger side door for you, and you genuinely don’t think you could be more puzzled. You press your lips together as he returns to the drivers seat and starts the car again, not waiting to pull out of the driveway.

“Max, you’re scaring me,” you say. Scared isn’t the right word, but it’s something along those lines. His eyes stay on the road, yours are fixed on his face, still trying so desperately to read him. He glances at you, offers a small smile, then reaches over to grab your hand. He intertwined your fingers, assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. It’s still odd - the whole situation, but that does make you feel more relaxed.

It’s quiet for longer than you’d like it to be. Aside from the radio, which is on a low volume, and the smooth rumble of the vehicle, it’s silent.

Finally, Max speaks. “I’m not worried about the posts,” he says, glancing at you for the second time. You find yourself wishing he could look at you for longer, a weird feeling washing over you as his eyes return to the road. He squeezes your hand subconsciously, his thumb soothing over the back of it. “Seriously?” you almost forgot to respond, but at the last minute, you remember his statement. “Seriously,” Max hums. The smile returns to his lips, and much to your relief, he expounds.

“Sure, it’s not ideal, but at the same time,” he pauses, and you can tell he’s trying to think of how to describe it. He chuckles briefly, “The only way to put it is that it’s made me realize that you’re so much more than a good friend.”

You’re still stumped. Now, you’re realizing that you don’t even know where Max is taking you - not that you’re worried about it, but the whole situation is just so strange, especially for you and Max. Thus, you remain silent, eyes never leaving him. You’re waiting for him to say something else, and he’s waiting for you to respond, assuming that you’d understand what he’s saying. Hes the first to realize that you don’t understand, and amused smile playing on his lips at your confusion. “Hold on, you’ll know what I mean when we get there,” He says, and this is somehow so Max, but not him at all, leaving you to sit silently, at least a million thoughts filling your mind.

Max pulls into a parking lot, and it only takes you a moment to realize you know where you are. You’ve been here with him once before, and you still remember that night so vividly. That was the first - and only - time you had ever questioned your feelings for Max. Any other time, you never had to think about how you felt. You knew you were happy with him, and it was the same for him. You didn’t need to know if you loved him, and he didn’t need to know if he loved you.

Now that the memories are coming back to your mind, it begins to dawn on you, what Max said. Regardless, you stay quiet and let him guide you into the club, hand still in his. He takes you to the very spot you both sat the first night you came here, and this time, rather than an empty booth and table, there’s a large bouquet of white roses sitting atop the table, a small note folded beside them. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do. Your eyes flicker between the roses, the note, and Max, who carefully pulls you closer, his free hand now resting on the small of your back.

“I’ll give you the choice - you can read the card or I can relay it to you,” he says. You choose what first comes to mind. “Relay it to me.” Max nods, then turns you to face him, his hands on your waist. Instinctively, you place yours on his shoulders. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, and even though you’re certain that his words are the briefest summary of what’s in the card, you can’t be bothered. A smile takes over your expression and you nod. Max smiles too, pulling you into a tight hug.

The rest of the night, you continued on like you would have had he not asked you to be his girlfriend. There was no need for things to be different. In fact, the only thing that would change from here would be the pure admiration you both have always had for one another, and that was perfectly fine with you. Somewhere along the line, a certain friend showed up, and you did eventually read the card.

Safe to say, Max’s recap of the words written in the card were indeed brief. Your heart is happy knowing that only you would see such a soft, loving side of him, and only you would be able to clearly picture your best friend- boyfriend, all mushy as he writes the card.

maxverstappen1 on instagram

liked by ynln, landonorris, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 324,512 others

maxverstappen1 my ❤️

view all 7,432 comments

landonorris okay i guess we don’t do photo creds anymore 😒

⤷ maxverstappen1 👍📸

ynln so much love for you always. ❤️

⤷ maxverstappen1 ❤️🔄

⤷ formulaverstappen IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING THAT BACK TO YN??? THERE ARE REAL TEARS IN MY EYES

victoriaverstappen very ‘just friends’ of you

⤷ maxverstappen1 👀

⤷ mv331lvr YALL EITHER GET THIS OR YOU DONT IM GOING INSANE

ln4nation THE FACT THAT LANDO TOOK THESE AND WAS THERE WITJ THEM IM GAGGED

papayabull YN AND MAX CONFIRMED DATING THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

TAGLIST

@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @leclercvsx @sleepeatread @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @marshmummy @jellyfish123guts @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @sadieurlady @piasstrisblog @pretty-little-bunny382728 @lokietro @stopeatread

Thank you for reading! 🌷

[mikeypubes]

'*•.¸♡ ishigami senku as a boyfriend ♡¸.•*'

.•° ✿ °•.

SFW

For starters, I will not write anything pre-relationship cause even I don't know how you can get into a relationship with this dude

You'd have to know him for a long ass time, though, because he needs to know you in and out to actually like you

And liking someone and having a relationship are two separate things for Senku

You best start learning how to lucid dream about him giving you affection because he will show affection maybe once a light year

ESPECIALLY not in front of other people

His love language is probably quality time and acts of service (for him, he wants hard labor, and for you, he shows his love by making small things for you)

Sometimes, he can show his love through gift-giving, too

If it's a really emotional moment, he might accept a hug or maybe even a kiss... MAYBE so don't get your hopes up 😍

He won't initiate any "romantic" physical contact, especially hugs, but he'll accept them most of the time, especially if you two are in private

Kisses might be a bit easier for him to give because it's just a light peck and he can go back to his work

That being said, he's surprisingly gentle with you if you two are dating

I've seen so many head canons of him being so... "daddy" guys... he's really not.

Hates cheesy/cliche romantic stuff, and will never try to do them to impress you.

Maybe he'll impress you with a scientific invention but that's about it

The only nicknames you'll get from him are maybe "dumbass" and "idiot" (which goes to show he's not gonna be cheesy)

Okay but he would remember every single detail about you and all the important dates/events

He'll never miss your birthday and he's always gonna get you something nice, like a plushie or a necklace, whatever stuff you're into

He’s not gonna make it a big deal, though. You’d be seriously thinking he forgot because he hasn’t said a word and then randomly you find something you’ve always wanted lying in front of you.

There’s no note or anything but you know it’s him. 🥹

He remembers your likes, dislikes, anything about your past, etc.

He really likes having you in his lab and explaining science to you, even if you don't understand jack shit

He has 0.01℅ more patience when it comes to you than with other people 👍

Sometimes he'll pause and think about how illogical he's become

He would never admit it, but he'd genuinely risk his whole life for you

Sorry guys he will not introduce you as his girlfriend

Not because he wants to hide it or anything, he just doesn't see the point in going around telling everyone that you're his girlfriend and whatnot

He doesn't tell you anything about his true true feelings (or many personal facts, like his favorite foods, etc.) but after time, you can kinda tell, it's just a thing you two share

You and Gen had to work miracles to figure out his birthday lmfao 💀

So you don't have to tell him how you're feeling, 9 times outta 10, he already knows

Heavy on he knows. He can immediately tell if you’re feeling down without so much as a sigh from you. And he’s always going to make you feel better.

Though he thinks it's troublesome, he'll be considerate if some stuff make you jealous or uncomfortable

You're still not exempt from physical labor though so chop chop get to work 👏

Good luck trying to make him jealous though 💀👍

The only semi-particle of jealousy he'd show is slight distrust

Like if a guy was acting too friendly with you, he'd just kinda treat him the way he treated Tsukasa at first

He's not doing it because he's afraid of losing you though LOL

On that note, a big part of a relationship for Senku is trust, so if he's dating you, he trusts you 100% and expects the same from you, so jealousy from your end can sometimes annoy him

He also doesn't get jealous for that same reason (although he's mainly just not a jealous guy)

Since he's not big on physical affection, the first couple of months you guys were dating, you had more than one instance where you seriously thought you hallucinated him accepting your confession

You genuinely doubted he liked you because he NEVER says it

But then, slowly, you came to notice that there's small things he does for you that he doesn't do for other people

For example, he always stands super close to you, or tries his best to explain things simply to you because he loves sharing his hobbies with you, or even listening to you rant about whatever the hell, even though he wouldn't be that tolerant to other people

They're not really "affectionate" things but they became special to you so that's that

Since you two don't show physical affection in front of everyone, no one knew you two were dating until like months later, when you mentioned it casually, and to say they were shocked is an understatement

NSFW

I'm not really gonna get too deep into this because I might do a whole other post for it

But in general, I think Senku would be very casual with the concept of sex

Like you guys would be months into the relationship, maybe even a year, and you still would have no clue if he even wants to do it because he'll never ever bring it up

It's not that big of a deal for him, he can survive without it lmfao

He also hates rushing things when it comes to a serious relationship

He's not dumb, though, he knows that relationships include sex and it's not that he's never thought of it, he just won't openly discuss it with you

Mainly because you two are way too busy

But if it were to happen, it would be one of two cases:

You bring it up and talk to him about it

Or it literally just happens out of nowhere (this being more likely)

So if you two were in a private place, and I guess you were smooching, one thing would lead to another, there would be no words exchanged, just him occasionally making sure you're fine

Also on that note, even though he knows everything about everything, keep in mind he's a teenage boy who's never been in a relationship before, so technically, he knows what to do, but he also doesn't... If that makes sense?

Like he knows it might hurt, so he'll be super slow and he'll make sure you're 100% okay

He doesn't know how to be super intimate, he just knows the technical part of it

Either way, he doesn't have a high libido, so sex isn't a big thing for him, it just comes naturally when you two are in the mood

(PHEW THAT WAS LONG AS SHIT) (p.s. ik what a light year is)

°•. ✿ .•°