#Tastes Like strawberries on a Summer Evening
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ao3feed-larry · 2 years ago
Text
Tastes Like strawberries on a Summer Evening
by galaxystories
⭐COMPLETA⭐
Storia scritta in collaborazione con always89evanesco!!
TRAMA: Louis Tomlinson e Harry Styles. Il primo un ragazzo normalissimo, che ama la letteratura inglese, il calcio e il the. Il secondo è un musicista famosissimo che è scappato dal mondo falso di Hollywood perché stufo del gossip che lo riguarda. Due mondi totalmente distanti che una sera, nel mezzo della campagna laziale, per via di una macchina con la batteria a terra, si intrecceranno, travolgendo entrambi.
Oppure come una scatola di cioccolatini, dei girasoli e una macchina con la batteria a terra saranno l'inizio della storia d'amore più bella e imprevedibile del mondo.
GENERE: Romantico / Fantastico
CATEGORIA: Larry Stylinson
PROTAGONISTI: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan Zayn Malik
AVVERTIMENTI: top!Louis, bottom!Harry, scene di sesso descrittive
ANNO: 2020
Words: 13773, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Italiano
Fandoms: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Additional Tags: Top Louis Tomlinson, Bottom Harry Styles, Zayn Malik Loves Niall Horan, Ziall Ficathon, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Musician Harry Styles, Gay Sex, Gay Character, Gay Harry Styles, Gay Louis Tomlinson
via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/EeiBld6
0 notes
toytulini · 3 months ago
Text
it is baffling to me that ppl keep insisting "if its not sprite then what IS it tho?" and seemingly do not...retain the recipes that are being shared. like you dont have to memorize them its just repeatedly "is lemonade not sprite though? how is it not sprite?"
"its lemon juice, water, and sugar"
"is it not the same as sprite?" no we just told u. does that sound like sprite to you. does sprite give you the vibe of juicing some lemons on a hot summer day? the lemonade version closest to Sprite over here, in terms of Being Lemonade, is still Notably Different from sprite, or any other soda, is probably Minute Maid, a highly processed branded lemonade that you can occasionally get from soda fountains (DESPITE! NOT BEING CARBONATED! similar to how they somehow dispense iced or sweet tea from soda fountains) it sometimes comes in a can or 2L bottle similar to soda, in the soda isle. and its Not Soda. its not Carbonated. its Trying To Pretend So Hard To Be Real Lemonade. it tastes like lemonade thats a bit sad. it is far more lemonade than SPRITE will ever be. if yall were simply insisting that lemonade is carbonated, that it was like, fizzy minute maid, that would be less offensive than calling sprite lemonade. which is Insane. good god.
#toy txt post#it is a beverage simple enough that *I* could make it#you could Find Out#you dont Have To. but its right there#see Here its easy even if you dont want to Juice Lemons cos they sell powdered lemonade that is so so decent#countrytime my beloved. im sure Real Lemonade drinkers might shit on me even for that#and YES god Victorians did get crazy with the fizzy lemonade they had those like glass bauble things to add bubbles that sometimes just#exploded. but the fact that you got so removed from it that you're calling sprite lemonade 😭. youre calling FANTA lemonade? surely not the#orange soda??? at least call it orangeade or some shit. it would still be wrong but like. christ alive these are different fruits#the idea of calling VIOLENTLY orange most artifical shit ive ever tasted in my life soda lemonade is just. sending me#like i Like An Orange Soda. thats Extremely Not Lemonade#idk like we have Processed ass lemonades. i tend to have those cos im lazy. but i Could Make Real Lemonade#my Favorite processed lemonade rn is the calypso brand. its so flavorful. im also susceptible to the cute glass bottle unfortunately.#i really like the strawberry lemonade and the blue one#sigh#this is probably akin to saying that apple juice is the same as cider. or smth. except no its still worse#also our ciders are different bc alcoholic or Hard Cider is not considered the Default here but i understand its the default elsewhere#anyway. sorry to all my non american friends about bringing up Lemonade Discourse Yet Again#if we ever visit. in either direction. i will have to try to make you some proper lemonade so you can understand how egregious it is#to hear it called 'sprite'#and also so u can have some yummy lemonade#it hits so much better on a hot summer day than sprite fr#sneaking premixed strawberry lemonade over in those little alcohol bottles they allow on airplanes. i am arrested at customs for trying to#impose Big Lemonade into what is clearly the territory of Big Sprite#anyway i think if travelling americans recieved Actual Cloudy Lemonade that Happened To Be Fizzy they might be like oh shit! why is it#fizzy! did you mix sprite in it or something? it would still be DISTINCT from sprite. the fact that yall think theyre the same.....#thats some real. mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste shit. No The Fuck It Doesnt what are you on#for one toothpaste is sharper and stronger usually. unless youre using the mild mint ones i guess. i Dont. for 2 it leaves you mouth#feeling fresh and clean. mint ice cream is yummy for sure#but it does not leave my mouth feeling clean or fresh or even give me minty breath or anything. smh
2 notes · View notes
dullahandyke · 1 year ago
Text
The fun thing abt starting basically from scratch wrt finding out what foods I like is that what seems like a simple meal actuslly has 5 different ingredients I've never eaten and 10 ways of being made and differing quality of ingredients and any one of those variables could be responsible for me not liking a dish and I don't want to risk making something I don't end up eating so basically I'm in the shitter
7 notes · View notes
cantquitu · 2 years ago
Text
.
2 notes · View notes
area51-escapee · 1 year ago
Text
The Offspring just feels like smth I have to listen to when it gets hot out. Same with Mother Mother. Also the entire Danger Days album specifically. So summercore to me.
1 note · View note
pluviacuratio-a · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
@xamassed whispered: “I don’t need rest, I could keep training with no problem.” ( beel )
MEME
{ ♪ } -- "Beel..."
Bella sighed, shaking her head. He'd been going particularly hard lately, and even though she knew he was a demon and thus had far more stamina than she ever would, it still worried her.
Tumblr media
"Not even enough rest to sit with me and eat, like, four bags of popcorn?"
1 note · View note
ofdetonation · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
@antiquelic inquired : she's a little late but who cares ? hana creeps up to him, broad grin in place before wrapping a large blanket around his shoulders. if one were to look closely, he would see it is handmade. designed in patchwork, a solid pattern consisting of one of his gauntlets, one of his hero mask and hair specifically, bold writing of dynamight in another, and then a few sticks of dynamite. some of the stitching wasn't the best, it's obvious that parts of the trickier patches were done by hana's mother. there was one little square in a corner with a crimson cherry blossom as a signature of the creator. hana naturally pressed a loving kiss to her boyfriend's cheek. ❛ happy birthday! ❜ ╱ late birthday celebrations !
Tumblr media
her sneak attack is enough to startle him. although he manages to avoid detonations dancing over his palms, he still jumps at the sudden weight over his shoulders, crimson eyes eventually landing on familiar pink and realising who the culprit was. jesus christ. ( she needed to stop doing that ⸺ one of these days, he's gonna accidentally blast her in the face, and he's going to feel a bit shitty for blasting his girlfriend of all people. ) but ... what was this, anyway ?
pulling the fabric from his shoulders, katsuki glances over the patchwork blanket with curiosity. it wasn't made of the highest quality, that was true ╱ but it was made with love and care at the least, and if kept in good condition, it would last him for a long time from now. if this was as warm as it looked ... shit. he's gotta try and keep the others away from stealing it, doesn't he ?
Tumblr media
❝ thanks, hay fever. ❞ despite stoic look, there is a dashing of pink invading his cheeks and ears, light but nonetheless there. ❝ how long didja need to make this, anyway ? looks like it'd take fuckin' forever. all handmade, ain't it ? ❞
but with it matching his hero colours, boldly displaying the shortened version of his hero name, carrying the motifs of his gauntlets and mask while accompanied with a few bits of dynamite ⸺ they did make dynamite with nitroglycerin, which is what his sweat was like, the clear inspiration for his hero name ... katsuki neatly folds it on the spot, humming. at least it'd keep him warm when autumn and winter came back around.
❝ you're real damn sappy, ain'tcha. ❞ ( not that he'd change it. )
1 note · View note
wandasaura · 4 months ago
Text
CRUEL SUMMER
summary — maybe you were oblivious to the way you teased natasha with a cherry flavored popsicle, or maybe you’d known all along and you were just waiting for her to break
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, temperature play, outdoor sex, nipple play, oral, degradation, food play (a popsicle and it’s never inserted), mild humiliation, semi orgasm control, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, brief domestic fluff, horrible popsicle stick joke, men/minors dni
authors note — a little summer snippet of our favorite couple! just wanted to expand on a little thought i had a few days ago!
you are in love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
The cherry flavor was tart as it spread across your tongue and tinted your lips the same color as Natasha’s hair, not your favorite flavor from the selection currently stashed toward the back of the freezer, but Wanda had mistaken it for strawberry when you asked so kindly for a treat. Your tongue swirled around the popsicle lewdly, catching each droplet of thawed syrup and ice before it had the chance to make a mess of your fingers. You had no desire to join your girlfriends in the pool, enjoying the stillness of the lounge chair that you made yourself comfortable against.
Despite your reluctance to plunge deep into the warm water, your body was covered minimally, triangular pieces of fabric concealing only what mattered most, although the visible swell of your breasts was undeniably tantalizing as rivulets of perspiration clung to you.
You waved at Wanda when she resurfaced, giggling softly at the disheveled appearance she sported despite her composed demeanor. The salt water had allowed kinks to form in her silky hair, and thin strands clung to her cheeks despite how she ran her fingers through her tresses and attempted to pull them taut behind her shoulders. She waved back, sending you a teasing wink before she was gone again, a blur of vibrant colors beneath the water as she kicked off the side of the pool and swam toward the deep end; her need for physical activity even on her days off boggled you, but a bored Wanda was not someone you wanted to deal with, so you watched her glide through the water with no outward commentary.
You sighed softly, eyes closing behind the thick frames of your sunglasses, tongue still working on the swiftly melting popsicle, savoring every ounce of tartness that dissolved on your tongue. You could always get up and retrieve another, but they tasted so much better when Wanda did the work for you, and you wouldn’t get so lucky if you asked her again. She’d just barely complied the first time, huffing beneath her breath about how she’d inadvertently turned you into a princess all while she disappeared into the house.
You frowned instinctively when something obstructed the warm sunlight cascading down against your face, inadvertently shielding your body from the gentle burn that was forming against your already tanned skin (this was not the first day you’d spent by the pool with your girlfriends, and it wouldn’t be the last until the cool days of September rolled around). The cloudless sky hadn’t provided anything more than a gentle breeze in hours, and curiously your eyes fluttered open, expecting to find a stray cloud to blame, though only to come up with a set of dangerous green eyes narrowed thinly in your direction.
Shyly, you peered up at Natasha, vibrant cherry popsicle still between your stained lips as you gazed at her sweetly. Droplets of salt water raced down her arms and perfectly toned thighs, sparkling beneath the sunlight she shielded you from. If you hadn’t been aware of how your movements taunted her before, you were now, realizing that her dazzling green eyes weren’t trained on yours like you’d initially thought, but rather watching closely as you lapped at the cool juices that threatened to dirty your hands and dragged your tongue slowly across the length of the frozen treat in an attempt to savor its subpar escape from the heat. Months ago, you would’ve apologized sheepishly, would’ve submitted beneath Natasha’s heavy stare the second it had fallen upon you, but now, with a refreshing confidence and security in your relationship, you moved the sunglasses up to the top of your head, holding her stare as you plunged the frozen treat as far as the wooden stick would allow, hollowing your cheeks only to suck in suggestively as you swirled your tongue around the treat.
“Parshivets.” She muttered beneath her in Russian, and while you were still learning her and Wanda’s native language, that single word was one of the few burned into your mind without translation. Brat. She’d called you that name for the first time only a few weeks ago, in a moment of intense connection that had both of your limbs trembling by the end, but somehow it had stuck just as easily as duckling had. You weren’t sure what you heard more of anymore, your name, or that single title that had wetness pooling in your panties instantaneously.
“Tvoy parshivets.” You rebutted, eyes narrowing challengingly as you glared up at her. Your defiance was the final straw, the last test of her patience, and within seconds, before you could even comprehend what was coming next, your beloved popsicle was in her hands and between her lips. “Hey!”
“Shut up.” She grumbled around the treat, slowly stalking closer, pressing her thighs into the edge of the lounge chair you laid across possessivky, making no move to press her body into yours like you’d anticipated, though the her simple presence was enough to assert ownership. When she pulled the popsicle away from her lips, she tilted it over your body, watching calmly as red droplets of thawed syrup fell against the exposed skin of your chest and belly. You shivered, a displeased whine filling the air that had been silent aside from the sounds of rippling water for so long. “I said: Shut. Up.”
“Why don’t you make me then!” You argued, kicking out in an attempt to rile her up, only to be captured by her strong grip before the sole of your foot could make contact with her thigh. You yelped in surprise when she pulled you down, your head falling onto the lower section of the lounge chair, your knees bent as your uncaptured foot remained steadily on the edge of the chair.
Her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss before you could recover from the abrupt change in position, her body hovering above yours as to not rub against the syrup slowly trickling down your body and staining your bikini top. Her lips were cold against yours, and as she descended down your body, shivers erupted across your spine, not only from the sensation of her icy lips against your pulse point, but in anticipation. Instinctively your thighs fell open, welcoming her body between them, which she appreciated and made sure to acknowledge. You moaned pathetically when her core ground into yours, her mound appling an addictive pressure to your clit.
“Daddy-” You whimpered, your bratty exterior melting away faster than your popsicle as her fingers worked to unravel the knot holding your bikini in place at the nape of your neck, her tongue following the trail of vibrant red syrup down your exposed breast. You gasped when the flimsy material was discarded, her lips wasting no time before they captured your nipple, her teeth biting down on the pebbled bud deliciously hard. A whimpered whine alerted Wanda of your current predicament, yet all the redhead offered was an amused laugh before she dove head first into the water again.
“Do you know what you were doing to me, utenok? Do you know how badly I wanted to come over here and replace that fucking popsicle? You’re all bark and no bite. The second Daddy’s lips are on those needy little nipples all you can do is whine. It’s pathetic.” She sneered, her tone laced with calculated mockery as she kept a firm grip on the stick of your treat, apparently not yet done with it.
Your bottoms were the next thing to go, leaving your body dressed in only a pair of designer sunglasses and red syrup. The last thing you’d been expecting was for her to bite the rest of your ice pop off the stick, swallowing it whole and attacking your unsuspecting cunt, but you watched it happen as if the world was in slow motion, felt the sensations creep into your bones as if they were merely in a movie, but all at once it caught up to you, and the sheer shock of her cold mouth against your hot center had your back arching off the lounge chair, inadvertently pushing your center farther into her face.
She lapped at your cunt with fervent motions. Her teeth nipped, her lips suckled, and her tongue; there were no words to describe the sensations her tongue provoked as she plunged it deep within your core, massaging your sensitive inner walls and your g-spot before she allowed it to soothe your clit with harsh stroke and flicks. Your moans were breathy as you grasped at her hair, pulling harshly at red curls that tickled your thighs as they fell over her shoulders, not sodden with water like Wandas, although for a fleeting second you wondered what it would feel like to have the saturated woman undoing you so passionately.
“Daddy!” You cried out when you felt the approaching pleasure of your orgasm building, your hands pushing at her head, unsure of what you craved more of and what was entirely too much. You whimpered when you felt the stretch of her fingers coming home to your pussy, allowing you no adjustment period as two fingers plunged deep into your cunt, replacing her tongue that instead sought out your tingling bud of hypersensitive nerves. “Daddy! Daddy!” Her name was a sacred mantra on your lips, falling into the air as you writhed beneath her strong grip, attempting to drive her farther into your body.
“You gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for me, parshivets? My filthy fucking girl, getting fucked outside, where anyone can hear you? Is that what you want? You want Agatha to hear you? I bet her windows open. I bet she’s inside, sitting at her table trying to read, but she can’t because all she can hear are your desperate fucking moans as your Daddy fucks you.” Natasha’s words sent vibrations through your core, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of pleasure, though she never permitted it. She never once gave you the answer you needed to fully enjoy it, and fiercely, you fought off your approaching orgasm because of that silent denial.
When her fingers curled into you, massaging that delicate spot that had you seeing stars, you almost begged for her to stop, to lighten up, but before you could, she gave you the one thing you needed. “Cum for me. Make a mess.” Natasha encouraged, rapturing your pulsating clit and spasming walls, drinking all of your pleasure before she pulled away, her mouth glistening, her fingers sparkling. You gasped for breath, chest rising and falling as you panted, the heat only heightening your breathlessness. “You don’t know how long I’ve been holding out for. Wanda thought I’d break the second you unwrapped that fucking popsicle.”
Sheepishly, you giggled softly, readjusting your sunglasses when Natasha stood up and moved aside, the sun falling over your body once more. “I didn’t realize until you came over here. I wasn’t even doing it on purpose.” You admitted, though Natasha had already known that.
“Oh, I know. You’re just too fucking tempting for your own good.” She giggled, kissing your lips sweetly, your arousal still coating her tongue as she licked at your lips teasingly. When she pulled away, she glanced down at the stick in her hands, a soft laugh falling off her lips. “Why did the book join the police force?”
“He wanted to be undercover!” Wanda bellowed from the pool, apparently honed in on your conversation despite how frequently she disappeared beneath the welcoming water.
“I’m all sticky now.” You pouted, realizing that the syrup, despite being licked off, had left a reside on your skin.
“I guess you’ll just have to join us then.” Before you could acknowledge her, Natasha had picked you up in her arms, your bathing suit still discarded on the grass in a messy heap of fabric, although the picket fence around the property prevented you from being seen, so it didn’t matter much if you out it back on or not. You shrieked when you realized what she was doing, but before you could plead for your freedom, she’d dropped you into the deep end.
“Nat!” You scolded when you resurfaced, your freshly washed hair now soiled by the salt water that dampened it.
“Oops?” Your girlfriend sang sweetly, jumping in right beside you, capturing you in her tight embrace with faux sympathy. “Go get Wanda.” She whispered in your ear, and that was enough to win her forgiveness, immediately seeking out your other girlfriend who pretended to despise the way you clung to her like a koala.
“I love you.” You mumbled against her lips, catching her by surprise though not an unpleasant one.
“I thought I got you strawberry. Sorry, baby.” She apologized softly, holding tightly to your naked ass, giving it a teasing spank beneath the water.
“That’s okay. Cherry’s Nat’s favorite.”
1K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 5 months ago
Note
What if reader's friends convince her to go on a date with another guy, and this guy is an absolute jerk? I think reader would call Eddie and ask her to come pick her up - why is every guy an asshole? Except Eddie of course 🖤
ty for requesting :D — grumpy!eddie rescues you from a bad date then offers to take you on a better one (friends to lovers, hurt/comfort ish | 1k)
bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
The sunset matches the color of your Slurpee. A fiery red and orange hue, like the mango and strawberry concoction in your cup. You sip from the plastic straw and pretend to taste the sky in your mouth — pretending not to notice the pounding bass of Eddie’s van as he peals into the parking lot. 
You sit on the curb and keep your eyes trained on the cracked pavement under your feet. All cool. Like you hadn’t called him for help at all.
“You could’ve been more specific about where you were, you know?” Eddie shouts, punctuating his question with the slam of the car door. His worn sneakers scuff the concrete with each of his rushed strides. You’d almost think he was actually worried about you.
“I told you I was at the payphone by the Seven-Eleven,” you shrug, tilting your chin to look up at the boy when he stands ahead of you.
“There’s four of those,” he argues, with his lanky figure looming over you. He pushes his leather jacket off his sides (which he wears in spite of the summer heat) to put his hands on his hips. “Seriously. I counted ‘em all in the half hour it took me to find you.”
You squint up at him, hardly apologetic after the shit day you’ve had. “Well, sorry for not being more clear,” you spit in a cynical monotone.
“Apology accepted,” Eddie shrugs. He huffs and sits on the curb next to you while you slurp audibly at the slushie in your fist. He leans over to knock your shoulders with his. “What happened?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Figured… Can I have some, at least?”
He’s only partly surprised when you hand over the drink without protest. He takes it in his ringed fist, looks inside to observe its content, then sips at the red straw (trying to ignore the nagging thought that your lips have been where his are now). The strawberry-mango mixture melts quickly on his tongue, foreign and sweet. “’S nice.”
You scoff like you’re owed the compliment. “Right? I let Josh try some earlier, and he said it tasted like shit. I was like, you know what, this is my final fucking straw.”
Eddie’s face screws. He wipes dramatically at his mouth with the back of his hand, hopelessly trying to erase the other asshole’s DNA. “Are you serious?” he mumbles, all annoyed ‘cause you hadn’t thought to warn him beforehand. You don’t seem to understand his meaning, though, as you shrug lazily in response.
“Well, him trying to feel me up in his car was my actual final straw. But then he hated my all-time favorite Slurpee, and I didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I just told him to leave me here.”
The only thing Eddie hates more than putting his mouth where Josh’s has been — other than the thought of Josh taking you on a date at all — is the idea of Josh not treating you right. His chest burns with a withheld rage.
“Are you talking about fucking Josh O.?” he scoffs and passes the styrofoam cup back to you. “Like, the moron from Mr. Mundy’s, Josh O.? That’s who Steve set you up with?”
“Unfortunately,” you grumble and take another sip, more casual about the subtle spit-swapping than the boy beside you had been.
“He was basically setting you up for failure, then. You know that, right?”
“I just wanted a free meal,” you confess quietly.
Eddie squints. His eyes flit from your profile, to your fidgeting hand punching holes in the ice with your straw, and back to your profile again. “Well, did you get one?”
“Yep. We split one burger at the diner.”
A laugh sputters from his pink mouth.
Your head whips to glare at him. “It’s not funny.”
Eddie props his elbow on his knee to hide his smile behind his ringed hand. “I mean… It kinda is, though. ‘Cause even I could buy two meals for us, and I’m basically the brokest fucker in this town.”
“Are you offering?”
His brows pinch. “Offering what?”
“To buy me a burger,” you say in a mousy voice, pretending to be innocent as you peer at him beneath your lashes, all doe-eyed.
“What?” Eddie scoffs through the sparkling in his chest. As a self-proclaimed metalhead, there was absolutely nothing metal about confessing to stupid crushes. “No.”
“Well, it sounds a lot like you’re offering,” you tease before wrapping your lips around the straw of your drink.
“Well, this sounds a lot like talking for someone who doesn’t wanna talk about it,” he mocks.
Your eyes narrow in annoyance. You part from your Slurpee and mumble through the ice on your tongue. “I wasted my quarters on you,” you deadpan.
Eddie rolls his eyes. He rises from the curb with a huff, wincing at the distant ache in his long legs. “C’mon, weirdo. Let’s go,” he urges, towering over you again.
You shake your head, gaze averted, suddenly shy. “I’m okay here.”
“Let’s go.”
“I’m serious, Eds. I don’t feel like going home right now—”
“I’m not taking you home,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. Your eyes flit back to his, suddenly hopeful again, and he tries not to cower. “I’m taking you to the diner. So I can get you a real meal.”
You seem particularly moved by the uncharacteristic act of kindness. “Really?”
“Yes, really— I don’t want you to starve to death,” he grouses, feigning annoyance ‘cause it’s easier than facing his real feelings in the face. “Now, let’s go before I change my mind.”
He walks off ahead of you on long legs, leaving you behind to catch up. But, because he isn’t a total asshole, he opens the squeaking passenger side door for you.
“Can I get a milkshake, too?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, helping yourself onto the cracked pleather seat.
“Don’t push it,” Eddie squints. He goes to shut the door, then catches the pretty pout pinching your features. “Fine,” he groans before slamming it shut.
1K notes · View notes
cloudwisp · 6 months ago
Text
𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.
Tumblr media
Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.
Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.
It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.
When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.
You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.
You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.
“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”
“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.
“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.
“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”
You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.
“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”
“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”
“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”
“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”
You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”
“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.
“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”
You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.
Tumblr media
꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱
1K notes · View notes
saetoru · 1 year ago
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ FIRST KISS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff + mutual pining if you squint, it’s literally just you being satoru’s first kiss <3, he’s just a loser boy beneath all his facades !!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
it’s summer the first time you kiss satoru. his lips taste like the lingering sweetness of kikufuku. the cicadas are calling, and the sun finds every crevice of your skin to hug.
it’s hot outside—but you don’t mind the heat so much when it’s the fan of satoru’s breath against your skin. you can feel his hands tremble as they finds your hips. hesitant, you note as he pauses a moment before finally letting them rest against you.
“you’re eager, sweetheart,” he hums—because satoru, even dazed from the taste of you, is still persistently himself. large hands are gently cradling the curves of your waist—he’s warm there too, where he holds you and pulls you closer to his chest. he grins when you press a kiss to his jaw, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.
“it doesn’t feel like you’re kissing me while held at gunpoint either, gojo,” you roll your eyes. your hand cups his face, thumb tracing over the swell of his cheek gently.
gojo—his lips, rosy and just a bit swollen, pout at the use of his surname. surely, now that you’ve stolen the innocence of his lips, you can spare him a bit more than that. surely, the intimacy of his given name doesn’t outweigh the intimacy of exchanging breath.
satoru—he imagines the way the name would sound from you, carefully whispered like a secret. everything you do is careful, he’s noticed, everything about you is thoughtful and soft.
more than anything, you’re careful in the way you touch him. you’re delicate in the way you let yourself explore his skin, like he’s fragile and easy to hurt. like all he’s ever known is pain. it’s ironic—someone like satoru should know very little about pain, should never feel the devastating blows at its hands when infinity leaves more than enough room for him to remain untouched.
but you’re funny like that; take him by surprise as you carve out the slant of his cheekbone with your thumb slowly enough that you might almost think your touch is enough to slice the skin.
it’s nice, he thinks distantly, being handled with care is nice. it’s not something this world affords so easily.
“this your first kiss?” he asks shamelessly, throwing you that lopsided grin of his.
am i your first? is what he means to ask. what he wants to ask. what he aches to ask.
is he your first? or are you only his? has anyone else tasted the strawberry of your chapstick? was it a different flavor before it was ever strawberry? satoru hopes he’s the only one to ever explore the flavors your lips might come in—maybe you’ll try cherry next. he’d like that.
“it’s certainly your first kiss,” you giggle, thumb moving down to trace his bottom lip, “i can feel you trembling, y’know.”
not many people catch gojo satoru embarrassed—you do, though. that enough should make you feel like god, perhaps. who else is powerful enough to feel the strongest quake? who else feels the quivers of his hands and the uncertain hesitance under his touch?
no one but you—and you’d like to keep it that way.
his face flushes a little, against his control. even gojo satoru is not above the rush of blood rising to his cheeks, even he cannot stop the hue of color that paints across his face. he’s human, after all—and he deserves to be treated as such: with the fragility of being human.
“no it’s not,” he scoffs, “i’ve kissed plenty.”
“yeah?” you chuckle, admiring the rosiness of his flesh, “name one person.”
“i don’t recall anyone’s name,” he shrugs, hands still making sure to keep you painfully close. if you pull away, satoru thinks he might die—thinks he might never recover from the aftershocks of such devastation. “no one was ever worthwhile enough to remember.”
he’s too much sometimes—but never less than enough. you snort, huffing out a small laugh that rings in his ears and makes him gulp.
perfect—you sound and look and feel and taste perfect. gojo satoru is the strongest, but is he deserving of the one thing this earth has that’s devoid of flaws? he’s not so sure. but he can try to be worthy, and perhaps that’s enough.
“well, then tell me, gojo,” you murmur, gently slipping the bandages from his forehead to fall to his neck. he’s only recently left the sunglasses behind—you like him better this way. you can see the outline of his features better, even if you do miss his eyes.
“hm?” he quirks a brow, breath almost hitching when his eyes meet yours—since when have you looked at him like that? since when have your pupils housed so much affection for him? have you always done so, and he’s never noticed?
it would be a crime to not have noticed before this, he thinks, a cruel and terrible reality of missing every soft and affectionate gaze.
“will i be long forgotten after this kiss? or has this one finally caught your attention?”
there is no prior kiss to compare yours to—but there never needs to be one after, either. this is the best kiss he’ll ever have, the only kiss he wants to have. no one will ever feel like you, he’s sure of it. no one will ever make him feel what you do, and even infinity is something that cannot protect him from the risks.
but satoru is not scared, not of you—and never with you.
so he grins, tapping his chin in thought as he hums, “give me another, and i’ll decide.”
you scoff in disbelief—amused, if anything, before shaking your head. he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.
“you never change, gojo,” you say fondly, “do you know that?”
“say satoru,” he says quietly. it’s almost a plead—it sounds like a plead.
you smile. it’s an innocent little thing, untouched by the cruelties of life—or maybe it has, and you still find a reason to stay pure. maybe it’s the latter, he realizes, maybe you’re just resilient enough to remain unwavering in the way you love so unapologetically.
“come here, satoru,” you whisper, gently pulling his face closer as you hold his cheeks.
desperately, he needs to taste his name rolling off your tongue—so he comes closer, bridging the gap and kissing you again. and again—and he can’t find it in him to stop.
the same day satoru has his first kiss, you call him by his first name. it’s summer. the flowers smell sweet as the cicadas call, and you put the sun’s heat to shame.
he’ll always stay warm wrapped in you.
Tumblr media
tbh this was supposed to be y’all fucking for the first time but then it just turned into this. alas, we prevail
3K notes · View notes
daisyblog · 4 months ago
Text
Watermelon Sugar
Tumblr media
Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Watermelon Sugar was made.
warning: smut, oral (female receiving), swearing
Very highly requested.
“So Styles…what are we working on today? Do you want to keep working on Treat People?”. Kid asked as he span around on his chair to face everyone, readjusting his hat as he did.
Harry gently licked his bottom lip as he thought about his options. “I’ve kinda got these lyrics that I can’t stop humming…I wanna work on them…see if they go anywhere, but if anyone feels uncomfortable then just say and we’ll scrap the whole thing!”.
“Shit it’s getting fucking deep in here today!”. Tyler joked, earning a snigger from Kid and a small grin from Mitch.
“What are you talking about man, every song is fucking deep”. Kid couldn’t bite his tongue. Harry only flipped him off with a sarcastic smile.
This is what Harry liked about the team, they could joke around, not taking anything to serious. But at the same time, they’d all shared many of the deepest conversations.
“Have you got like a melody or anything H?”. Mitch quietly asked as he prepared to play.
Harry shook his head as he pulled his lips into his mouth. “Nah just go with it and see what happens”.
“Tastes like strawberries…on a summer evenin'…and it sounds just like a song”. Harry acoustically sang, trying to find the right notes and melody.
“What’s with you and fruit, man?”. Mitch asked the question everyone was dying to know. “Plus what the fuck sounds like a song?”.
Harry ran his finger under his nose, a nervous habit he had. “Nothing…it’s nothing…just open for interpretation”.
---
Anne didn’t need an excuse to host a summer garden party, so the moment the sun came out she invited all her close family and friends over for food, drinks and a good time.
Harry and YN had been finding it difficult to leave each others sides, whether that was Harry’s arm reaching around her waist to sit on her hip, an arm over her shoulder or sharing a quick peck when they thought nobody was looking.
So when YN was in the kitchen, reaching across the spectacular spread Anne had put on to place a few strawberries on her plate, she felt two hands slide around her middle and a face nuzzle into her neck.
“I’ve missed you”. Harry placed small kisses up her neck, YN trying not to let her body respond as she took a bite of a strawberry, placing the green on the plate.
“I haven’t been anywhere”. YN giggled as she swallowed the fruit, placing the plate down so she could turn in his arms.
As she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers gently played with his loose curls. Harry met her lips with his, the sweet taste of strawberry lingered between them.
“Let’s go upstairs”. Harry mumbled against her lips, that were now a darker shade of red.
“Bubs we’re in your mums…there’s a party going on”. YN pointed out as Harry’s lips nibbled down her neck, teasing and distracting her from her thoughts.
Harry only shrugged his shoulders in response. “When has that ever stopped us?”. YN knew he had a point, but she was still reluctant, glancing around to see if anyone would see them wonder off. “Please baby”.
“But I want more berries”. YN wined as she glanced back at her plate, sitting there full of fresh strawberries.
“Well I want you!”. Harry gently pulled her by the neck to place a lingering kiss to her swollen red lips.
---
”All I’m getting so far is you’ve eaten strawberries on a summer evening and it sounds like a song!”. Mitch was literal with his interpretation, looking at Harry like he’d gone crazy.
“Mitch just listen to the fucking lyrics man…we’re only like three lines in and I already know what it’s about.” Tyler laughed at how naive his friend was being right now.
Whilst Kid and Tyler fiddled about with some ideas for mixing and editing ‘Golden’, Mitch tested out a few chords to see what would fit with the current song Harry was writing.
Harry was noticing some lyrics down in his leather book, when Mitch played a particular melody that caught his ears. He listened carefully trying to find the right timing.
“I want more berries…And that summer feelin'…It's so wonderful and warm”. Harry sung, catching the other’s attention, all invested in where he was going with it. “Breathe me in…Breathe me out…i don't know if I could ever go without..”.
Harry paused as he processed where this song was going. But glancing around the room, he spotted a book on the table. Giggling to himself, he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching for it. “I don't know if I could ever go without…Watermelon sugar…High!”.
“Sounds like you’ve just named your next song”.
---
Once their hidden by the four walls in Harry’s room, he quickly reaches for YN’s waist, leaving traces of his fingers behind. Pulling her closer to him as their lips become ones and their fronts meet.
The warmth from their bodies being so close has caused them both to feel hot. Their movements feel quick and fast, but slow and soft all at the same time.
As Harry walks them blindly over to the bed, YN’s hands become greedy and pulls his T-shirt off and leaves it drop to the floor. Taking YN’s route, Harry’s ring clad fingers, find their way to the front of YN’s skirt unbuttoning it as their lips stay together like magnets.
Once her skirt and underwear are pooled on the floor, keeping Harry’s tahirt company, YN finds herself lying with her back on the duvet covered bed. Instead of joining her, YN feels his lips attach themselves to her inner thigh. Her mind becomes dizzy as she feels his wet lips trailing further up.
“Harry!”. Her lips moan, wanting to feel more as her lower stomach began to tighter already. His lips are now needier, moving higher and closer. In a quick movement, Harry grabs a pillow from the bed and places it under her hips.
Leaning forward Harry’s tongue meets her, licking up and down with a slow teasing start. His hands move her thighs so her bare legs are resting over his shoulders. Another moan leaves YN’s lips as she feels his mouth move against her.
“Oh, fook!”.
Her moaning only encourages his movements, as well as feeds his ego. Whilst his tongue teases her, swirling around as he tastes the wetness as it drips down his chin, he moves his left hand to rest on her lower stomach, pushing down gently.
“Fookin’ ‘ell, that’s good!”.
Harry could feel YN’s hips start to buck against him, so he gently held her hips down so the sensations hit harder. The sound of her heavy pants outplayed the sound of Harry’s tongue hitting the wetness between her legs.
Knowing YN was close as she muttered out small encouragements, Harry moved his tongue faster against her, lapping up the sweet taste. The addicted sensation began to build and the heat travelled down YN’s body. Her head swung back on the sheet behind her as the pressure built.
It hit her with force, causing her to feel light headed and unable to think of anything but the climax, when her thighs clenched around his head, Harry had no choice than to keep up his movements as he rode her through her high.
“Oh Harry, oh yes!”.
The sound was like heaven to Harry’s ears as he felt her vibrate against him. Watching her orgasm was still something he could never get bored of.
The energy had been wiped away from YN as she now laid still on the bed, unable to move due to the shakiness. Harry lifted himself up from his position between her legs, wiping away the wetness left behind on his chin.
Harry moved further up the bed with his knees, hoovering over YN’s tired body. He leaned forward pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
“Worth missing out on eating your strawberries?”. Harry sarcastically asked, as he held himself up with his arms.
---
As they continued to work on the song, now known as ‘Watermelon Sugar’, the penny dropped for Mitch as Harry sang, trying to perfect the melody and pre-chorus.
“Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin'…And it sounds just like a song…I want your belly and that summer feelin'…I don't know if I could ever go without”.
Mitch’s eyes went wide at the realisation. “Shit…fucking hell man…you’re singing about eating-”.
Before Mitch could finish his sentence, Harry cut him short. A large cheeky smirk covering his face as he did so.
“It’s a song about wanting to eat strawberries!”.
Tag List:
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk
787 notes · View notes
boyfhee · 9 months ago
Text
심재윤 、STRAWBERRY LIPS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
featuring ⋆ tutor!jake, sort of classmates to lovers
warnings ⋆ pet names ( 0.5k )
note ⋆ i was studying and suddenly came up with this idea and it instantly reminded me of em so here's to her @goldenhypen
Tumblr media
you’ve been staring at jake for a while now, instead of focusing on studying. the soft glow of sunlight on his face with that dainty golden chain around his neck makes him look a bit too attractive, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears.
“what’s wrong, pretty?” there it comes. he leans a bit closer to take a look at the question you’re supposed to be solving. “you’re supposed to use the formula of the equation of trajectory for that one, angel.”
the trajectory of your life is about to change. 
because you don’t know what you’re doing. you should be studying but your eyes refuse to leave his sight, specifically fixed on his lips as he pops his lollipop back in, the warm summer winds entering your room through the windows and brushing across his face, ruffling his brown locks that glow like honey under the sun. 
summer is here.
however, you don’t know if it’s the season to be blamed as your cheeks heat up when he glances at you, or if it’s the man himself. 
“still stuck on that question, pretty?” he asks, the lollipop is still in his mouth, resting against the corner of his lips, you can taste the strawberry flavour on your tongue just by looking at him.
“uh, i’m trying—”
you offer a quiet and flustered response with a shaky breath, and jake couldn’t help but chuckle, cutting you off mid sentence, speaking in the softest, dreamiest voice. “it’s okay, i’ll tell you how to do it, sweetheart,”
you have no excuse for blatantly staring at his lips, but you couldn’t help it and stare in the same direction again as he takes the lollipop out of his mouth. every time he calls you by one of those pet names, you feel a flutter in your chest. when his shoulders brush against you as he leans closer, you suddenly get more conscious about everything around.
he’s explaining the solution and you’re busy looking at his lips again. the way they move when he speaks, the subtle smile as he writes the solution, you’re sure they taste like your favourite strawberry lollipop that he was eating earlier. his voice is reduced to nothing, your heart is beating faster and faster and when he finally looks up at you with only a few inches between you two— it feels like your heart has stopped. 
“are you even listening to me?”
you quickly avert your eyes from his lips, focusing on anything but him. you can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks, hands fisting together on your lap out of embarrassment. it won’t be a surprise if your heart pops out of your chest. “y-yeah,”
when you don’t hear a response, you turn your eyes back to him, and he sighs, putting the pen down. you wonder if you’ve finally annoyed him, but jake pulls your chair towards him. it doesn’t down upon you how close you both are until you feel his breath on your lips.
“i might not be able to hold myself back,” he whispers, thumb brushing over your bottom lip ever so tenderly, sending shivers down your spine. “if you keep staring at my lips like that,”
2K notes · View notes
churipu · 9 months ago
Text
WHAT REMINDS THEM OF YOU 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro, itadori yuuji
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just pure fluff :D
note. i was going to write some hurt comfort — but then i figured that i wanted to keep myself sane for today :>
Tumblr media
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
anything strawberry. scent, taste — anything strawberry.
gojo remembered when the first time he brought you home some honeoye strawberries after a mission since it was in season. the way your eyes just lit up at the sight of strawberries made him happy, and from then on — gojo looks at a picture of a strawberry or even smelled strawberry from god knows where.
he just thinks of you.
one time gojo saw a rabbit eating a strawberry while scrolling through his social media, and he wasted no time sending the video to you with a small message: "you <33"
or the other time gojo sees a bucket cap with strawberry motives and he just had to get it for you. the male waited in line for half an hour for that hat (and he had to "fight" a kid for it, he won in the end because the kid moved on to a duck motive hat instead).
"baby, look what i got you — strawberry scented bath bomb. it was the last one on stock, and i had to argue with a lady over it," he happily bursts through the door, boasting while raising what seemed to be a bath bomb.
gojo just knows when you change your usual brand of strawberry lip balm. it took him a peck and he asks you, "did you change your brand? this one tastes weird," he wipes his lips.
"they were out of stock, 'toru."
"why didn't you say so?" he cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose, "i'd go to the other side of the earth to get you one, y'know?"
you chuckled, "or, i could just wait for it to stock back . . ."
"nonsense!"
𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
the smiths.
he finds it amusing when you start quoting that one scene from 500 days of summer, "i love the smiths . . ." and he just unexpectedly replied with, "sorry?"
but that time — he didn't know that he was "unknowingly" going along with it. confused, he had to question you about it, and when you told him it was from a movie. megumi finally understood and thought that maybe you really liked the movie.
he was wrong. it wasn't the movie, it was the smiths. so now, every time he sees anything or hears anything about the band, he finds himself thinking about you — but he'd never actually say that. megumi often listens to their songs just so he could understand when you talked to him about it.
also, quoting the movie was now a habit for you two. you just go, "i love the smiths," out of the blue and megumi will continue it (even if he says that it's pretty corny).
megumi loves it when you listen to the smiths out loud, singing softly to the tune. the male tries really hard to get you unofficial merchandise, official merchandise for the smiths are actually so hard to find today — so he just had to go and make it custom for you.
"and when the double decker bus, crashes into us . . ." he heard you sing, both of your ears jammed with earbuds from the earphones, "to die by your side."
that, was your favorite song. and megumi made it into a custom painting of you and him as if the two of you were in that one scene in 500 days of summer. i'm not kidding.
𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈
mochi skin. the texture, the flesh. it just reminded him of your cheeks — it's so squishy and soft. every single time he buys a mochi, he makes sure to do something that he calls a squish test.
where he squishes the mochi, and then squishes your cheeks. if they don't feel the same, yuuji gets rid of the mochi and gets another one (he eats them).
"it doesn't feel the same y/n, i don't like it," he whines out softly, tossing the mochi into his mouth — he angrily takes out another bill of cash to buy another mochi.
"yuuji, why does it have to be the same again?" you asked him, hands inside your pockets.
"because . . ." good point. why?
the male prompts to ignore you and buy another one (three others) to make sure they are the same texture as your cheeks. it's something he does — if a mochi he buys doesn't feel the same way like your cheeks does.
he eats them or lets you have them.
if it does.
he also eats them or lets you have them.
it's just something he does for fun, so he could always remember you. and when you're not there with him — yuuji makes sure to buy at least five before coming over to visit you so he could do the test.
when he's not feeling like it but he misses you, he takes a video and sends it to you with a caption: "i miss you."
Tumblr media
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
1K notes · View notes
ipodfresa · 2 months ago
Text
Take it off
summary: fwb!sub!abby x reader
warnings: fwb! abby, mentions of marijuana usage, sub! abby, teasing, nipple play, cunnilingus, making out, fingering, needy abby because it's my favorite. proof read-ish. lmk if i missed anything
Fall time was the best time. The stuffy, clammy summer air is gone, and the brisk fall air enters your lungs. The sound of the crunchy leaves under your feet, warm drinks, and smoke seshes in your nice, warm home. You love it. 
But.. it also means cuffing season, and you weren't getting any of that because Abby decided to stop seeing you. You know you are not supposed to get attached while being friends with benefits, but fucking hell, it was Abby for crying out loud. It was normal for Abby to ghost you for 2-3 days, but a whole week? The beginning of the season has been shit for you.
You set up your nightly, ritually smoke sesh in your room. Sitting down on your cozy floor table, convenient for times like these, you start preparing your spread. Rolling papers that left a lingering taste of strawberries, the grinder that you decorated with stickers, your lucky lighter that is always with you, and finally, your precious herb that was in a small glass jar. You put on your favorite show and start getting comfortable until you hear Abby’s signature two knocks. You feel your heart drop literally to your ass. You wait for about 2 minutes until you listen to it again.
Knock, knock.
“Are you fucking kidding me..” you mutter, pushing the table as you stretch your legs. Grabbing the first item of clothing in your hamper, you slip on a hoodie and quickly walk to the door. Opening the door where you meet a deliciously looking blonde-haired girl. Hair out of her braid and shorts that accentuate the muscles on her thighs. She looks too good, and she knows it.
“What do you need?” you said, not even a hello and not even opening the door all the way. Abby puts her arm in the doorway.
“Aw, did you miss me?” she asks, using her body weight to push the door open, pushing you with it. She lets herself inside, already looking around your living room.
“C’mon, Abby. What do you need? You want to call us off for a week and show up at my house without letting me know?” You say as you close the door, following her into your living room. You instantly regret letting this woman back into your home again. The smell of her pine body wash, the sandalwood perfume she wore, and the warmth she emitted from her was enough to open your arms(or your legs) to her again.
“The thing is..” Abby starts, but as she sits on the couch, a sly smirk creeps on her face. You bite your bottom lip, aware of the effect Abby has on you, so if she smiles, you can’t help but smile.
“Take it off,” Abby says, making herself comfortable by spreading her legs, seeing how her shorts ride up and can get a peek of her baby blue spandex shorts. You feel your face warm up, trying to keep your eyes above her waist.
“E-excuse me?” was all you could say as you stared at her in disbelief. 
She raises her eyebrows. “That hoodie,” she says, pointing to the exact hoodie you had on. “I came to get it back with a few of my other things.”
Shit.
“Look, I'm sorry,” sighing to mostly yourself. Abby reminded you that she wanted her stuff back, and because of the sudden disconnect between you two, you didn’t have the time. You took a moment to look around you, seeing if there were any remnants of her presence still lingering in your home. “I haven't done any laundry and just grabbed whatever was in my hamper. Tomorrow, I'll have a look around.”
Abby shakes her head with that same stupid smirk on her face. She flips her hair to the side and loosens the neck of her hoodie collar Was she hot..?
“No. I want you to take it off. Right now,” She says in that tone that you're familiar with. A deep, dulcet, yet desperate. 
You feel this fluttering hurt in your stomach, the good kind. You haven’t slept with anyone since Abby, and she looks like she needs you…
Fuck it.
You grab the bottom of the hoodie, lifting it and revealing your naked top half. Your skin litters with goosebumps, feeling the slight chill air around you, but the warm liquid swimming in your belly is another thing. You see the light pink blush painting Abby’s cheeks as you toss the hoodie. Fuck she’s so cute. Abby catches it but tosses the hoodie to the side and yanks your hand as you fall on top of her. 
“Abby!” you let out a small yelp as she melts her lips to yours. The way Abby was kissing you was enough to tell you that this girl was needy. Hertongue finds yours, teeth clashing, letting out small, quiet moans and whines as her grip on your arm tightens. You break the kiss, taking a good look at her glossy lips, her eyes drooped with arousal, and how her hair is already mused.
“And you said that I missed you? Look at you, poor baby.” You whisper in the space between the two of you, letting your lips linger but not enough for the needy girl below you to get another taste. 
Abby’s eyes widen for a second, opening her mouth to say something but closing it with a flustered face.
“You missed me so much,” You say as your hand creeps up on the muscular thigh, so close to where she needs you. She shifts, wanting to get you between her legs, but you’re already one step ahead of her. You move your knee, having good pressure against Abby that has her slightly bucking her eager hips. “That you came over to get a stupid sweater?”
Abby’s eyebrows furrow, and she shakes her head. This cute, puzzled look on her face makes you want to bury her in kisses, but you’re supposed to be mad at her. You lean back into her lips, biting, sucking, anything that works her up. Abby is putty below you. She lets out these moans that you’ve never heard before, high-pitched mewls that make you bite her lip harder. Your hand creeps up her thigh, up into the crewneck, and you are met with her bare, sensitive chest, rising and falling rapidly  You smile into the kiss, not wanting to embarrass her even more for coming over prepared. You grope her chest, fondling with the fat that lay there and playing with the pebbling nipple. Abby breaks the kiss, inhaling sharply.
“Ah- please.” She gasps, bucking her hips again. This was a completely different side of her. Abby has received from you, and she is pretty vocal in bed, but this fucking submissive? It makes you want to deprive her for weeks on end. You break the kiss, hurridly helping Abby take off her crewneck and attaching your mouth to her boob. Circling your tongue around the rose-colored nipple has Abby holding her breath. After a few minutes of playing with her chest, you trail kisses down to the navel. You didn’t even have to ask, as Abby was quick to slip her shorts off, tossing them somewhere in the living room.
“Mmm, needy, aren’t we?” looking into her eyes as you mutter against her hip bone, skin almost feverish to how warm she was. Abby rolls her eyes, the sass still somehow in her.
“Fuck yes, ok? Please, baby,” Abby whines, throwing her head back onto the couch armrest. She reveals her neck, sweat droplets cascade slowly, accentuating the veins that played there. Fingers are dancing up her leg, in between where you see how desperate her cunt is. Glistening, soft pink flesh and her musk have you blacking out slightly. 
“I want you to look at me, Abby.” You said, patting her thigh to grab her attention as you met with her eyes. It’s as if she was god himself. Her fucked out expression made you clench around nothing.
“Good girl” was the last thing you said as you stuck your tongue out and licked a fat stripe of her pussy. Abby can't help but close her eyes, too overwhelmed by your teasing tongue. 
“Nuh uh, look at me. I want you to watch, baby,” putting your tongue away, smoothing her shaking thighs over with your hands. She nods eagerly, raking her hair out of her face. You bite back a smile before diving in again. Spreading her open with your mouth, Abby was so wet. Slick coating your chin, you move your hand over to pull back her clit to kiss it. Moans strung out from the blonde above, not caring how loud she was getting. She grabs your hair and makes a satisfying pull to your scalp that has you groaning into her cunt. You alternate between sucking, licking, sucking, licking. Your head is spinning as you prop yourself on your elbows, applying the pressure of two fingers dancing on her clit, your jaw feeling sore. Smiling at the cute, blissed-out expression on Abby’s face makes you want to be between her legs all night. 
“Are you close?” you ask, voice hoarse after not speaking for the last 3 minutes. Abby doesn't dare to open her eyes, knowing that if she makes eye contact with you, she’ll come too fast. She nods, eyebrows furrowed as she nibbles on her swollen bottom lip from the constant biting she does. You allow it this time, allowing Abby to take in the euphoric blooming in her stomach. You really shouldn’t, wishing you had prolonged her orgasm as a punishment for ghosting you and making you suffer every night. 
“Come for me, baby, yeah? Show me how bad you want this” Famous last words before you attached your mouth back onto her clit, switching your finger to easily slip into her. Pumping your index finger in a “come hither” motion, feeling her clench around you. 
“Fuck fuck, please, I’m coming. K-keep-ah-doing that,” She hisses as her body seizes, fingers gripping so good in your scalp. Strong thighs clamp around your head as you lazily lick at her rosy clit with a grin.
Who knew Abby could be so fucking needy?
a/n: heyyyyyyy, sorry i was on hiatus for a while. i suddenly got the motivation to write, so do what you will with this
471 notes · View notes
valsverse · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
• just thinking about percy jackson as your summer bf. fumbling with sunscreen, smearing it on each other’s noses, missing spots on purpose. sticky cuddles under the blanket, even though the air is way too hot for any kind of physical contact. popsicle juice dribbling down your chin, and him kissing it away, his lips sweet and a little too eager. racing into the ocean, him pretending to trip just to make you laugh. stealing sips of each other’s lemonade, but only when you think he’s not looking. screaming on the rollercoaster while he pretends to be fearless, though you catch his knuckles white around the bar. arguing over the best ice cream flavor—he insists on mint chocolate chip, but you know it’s cookies and cream. beach volleyball that always ends with him picking you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing too hard to keep score. running barefoot on the hot pavement, hopping between patches of grass. falling asleep in a hammock, legs tangled, with the smell of saltwater still clinging to your skin, and waking up to sunburned shoulders and his lazy grin. • or how fall coded leo valdez is. going to haunted houses together, hiding your face in his shoulder every time you get freaked, while he grins and teases you, but never lets go. sharing one scarf because he insists he’s not cold, but somehow the scarf always ends up wrapped around you both. carving pumpkins together, where he makes his a goofy, over-engineered contraption while yours is just happy and crooked. attempting to watch Saw for halloween, but halfway through, he grabs the remote, and suddenly It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! is on. apple cider kisses, warm and sweet, his lips tasting like cinnamon. drowning tea with lethal douses of nutmeg because he swears it makes everything better, and it does. walking through piles of fallen leaves, and just when you’re admiring the colors, he kicks a bunch of them at you, laughing as you chase him down the path. ending the night with bonfires, where he messes with the flames, making them flicker in shapes just to make you laugh. • and winters with luke castellan, him cupping your face in his hands, palms warm and soft, trying to chase away the chill from your cheeks, always grumbling about how cold you are, but never pulling away. sharing caramel apples, and him struggling to take a bite while making a mess, albeit with a small grin. snowball fights that start with playful teasing and end with him catching you in his arms, both of you laughing and brushing off snow. walking through the frosty streets, his arm around your shoulders, making sure you’re never too cold. stopping by a food cart for hot chocolate, where he burns his tongue but pretends he's fine, playing it off with a casual shrug while you laugh. driving through the city, holiday music low in the background, his eyes flickering between the lights and your smile; and his peppermint scent clinging to your sweater, lingering long after he’s gone. • while jason grace is undeniably a spring bf. feeding each other freshly picked strawberries, sweet and sun-warmed, his smile soft as he knows just how to choose the best ones. stopping by the convenience store for a snack run, where he knows your favorites by heart, grabbing them without a second thought. stopping by a local café for iced coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he hands you your drink.
playful water fights by the fountain, where he always ends up drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead, but he’s still grinning, water dripping everywhere as you both laugh at the chaos. visiting farmers' markets together, where he picks out the freshest fruits and insists on trying every sample with you. sharing ice cream cones that melt faster than you can eat them, him sneaking bites from yours with a playful smirk, wiping away a stray drip with the back of his hand before it hits the ground.
Tumblr media
©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
461 notes · View notes