#Volume 4 bitches!!!!

[accio-victuuri]

hua cheng meets the heavenly officials ❤️❤️❤️

[millionsknives]

genuinely these panels are going to make me ugly cry

[concerto-roblox]

i'm finally reading the jojo manga and one of my favourite things about it so far is when they randomly have a double page spread labelling all the parts of something and detailing how it works like akira's guitar, stray cat, and the transmission tower. every time i'm like haha yes... this pleases my autism greatly

[m0e-ru]

girls will literally say ohh the golden anime is soo bad you should never watch it or consider part of any sort of it canon and same girls will watch it themselves and cry

[miserye]

Breathless momentum is so ARGEHSJSJDJJDJD

[devondespresso]

just tried watching Wednesday after hearing that people either really enjoyed it or hate it and oh lordy i barely made it through 30 minutes of the first episode. i forgot pacing and dialogue could be that bad. rip the addams family you guys can't catch a break

[hazelsmirrorball]

And they were roommates | F1 Drivers

summary: y/n wanted to live in New York, so that's how she ended up living with three losers faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter pairings: oscar piastri x fem!reader, lando norris x fem! reader, Logan Sargent x fem!reader, franco colapinto x fem!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. this is inspired by new girl

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yourusername can someone pick me up? I don't think I can live with them anymore

tagged: @logansargent @oscarpiastri @landonorris

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logansargent we look really hot with our shades on!! But why the hell are Oscar and Lando wearing ur bras?

yourgirlbestfriend omg!! I thought you were joking when you said they used trash cans as pools in ur balcony

-> yourusername nothing is a joke when it comes to them

landonorris shoes off the couch! I sleep there

-> yourusername boo you whore

francolapinto you look so cute :)

-> yourusername omg im blushing

-> logansargent she really is blushing btw

-> yourusername delete this!

-> landonorris @oscarpiastri are you seeing this? isn't this ur girl

-> yourusername stop cockblocking me

-> oscarpiastri We are just friends.

-> landonorris but you wish you were more

-> yourusername do you guys know that private message exist

-> landonorris but I want your whole 100 followers to see that Oscar has a crush on you

-> oscarpiastri I do not.

-> <-

Logan and Y/n stood in front of the tv as the Zumba routine played at full volume. The clock read 4:30 am as the pair tried following the middle aged woman in front of them. Logan skipped in a circle moving his dumbbells side to side. As Y/n hollered when the woman on the TV would ask if they were hype. Oscar, being tired from the night before he could hear the pair having the time of their lives with the zumba. He quickly slipped on some pants not bothering to put on a shirt while walking down the stairs rubbing the tiredness of his eyes. When Oscar finally got to the bottom of the stairs he quickly got flashed with Logan’s short shorts. 

“Oh, Oscar, are you joining us?” Logan said, turning to him as he placed the dumbbells down taking a sip from his water. Y/n also turned jogging in place smiling at Oscar. 

 “I thought you guys were doing that dancing class” Oscar said as he yawned looking at the pair thinking that the clothes they had on was a cause of his imagination and lack of sleep. 

“Yeah, dummy. What do you think we are doing? This is a dancing class. We are doing Zumba. Logan found a cheap disk at a thrift store and he also found these sick outfits so we are matching with the ladies on the tv” Y/n responded stretching her wrist warmers. 

“Yeah, we are getting ripped”

“I thought you guys meant you were going to the gym and that they were offering the class. It's four in the morning guys. That stupid song is driving me insane” Oscar said glaring at the pair as he leaned against the wall. Logan groaned, throwing his head back as Y/n raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You are certainly not invited to our pilates mom group” 

“Logan, you are not a mother. Neither of you are” 

“Well with all you bitching and moaning, I should be” 

Lando pushed open the apartment door after  having one to many drinks at the club he looked at Y/n and Logan and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Are you guys supposed to be John Travolta and Jaime Lee Curtis?”

-> <-

landonorris via instagram !

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landonorris I just noticed that my whole camera roll is dedicated to my loser roommates. I need a life.

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yourusername mom! I swear I don't drink

-> landonorris babe don't lie. those white claws are on ur side of the fridge

-> yourusername those white claws aren't mine, that's Logan side of the fridge

-> logansargent I hope none of you are touching my white claws

yourusername Oscar is such a nerd

-> oscarpiastri Hey! I have instagram.

-> logansargent surprisingly

-> <- Y/n pulled Franco Colapinto’s arm as she quietly tried to sneak him out of the apartment without waking her roommates up. Franco’s clothes hung loosely on her body as she shushed him for what felt like the one hundredth time. As they were almost near the exit, Lando turned on the light with a huge grin on his face.  

“Is this supposed to be his walk of shame?” 

“Lando shut up and go to be” Y/n replied through gritted teeth, as Franco stood in front of the door awkwardly. 

“I will not shut up. This is the first time you bring a guy home. Honestly I am so proud of you. I was worrying that I was the only one bringing people to the apartment. But now I don’t feel as bad.” Lando said walking up to them and wrapping his arms around both of their shoulders. 

“Lando, you literally bring two people daily. I think you should feel bad.” 

“No because, this is different. Wait until Osar finds out. Hold up, this means you are not a virgin anymore. Oh my God my kids are growing up.” 

“Lando, I wasn’t a virgin” 

“That’s what I am saying, Did he..Oh God. Oscar! Oscar, come here” 

The three of you guys stare at each other in silence while oscar quickly walks into the kitchen looking at the trio. He looked Franco up and down, quickly turning to Lando 

“What” 

“Did you know, Y/n isn’t a virgin anymore?” 

“I know”

“You know?!” 

“Who did you took it?”

-> <-

yourusername via insta stories! landonorris via insta stories!

-> <-

The four of roommates sat on the couch quietly scrolling on their phones. They have been like that for like for an hour. The peaceful silence had broke when Lando gasped loudly.

“You guys remember that we agreed on doing a group costume”  

“No one agreed to do a group costume” 

“No, you guys did!”

“You said, we should do a group costume for Charles halloween party and we didn’t answer” 

“Anyways, as I was saying, I saw a tik tok of some roommates that dressed as the main south park characters and that would be perfect for us. Logan can be Kyle, Y/n can be Stan, OScar can be Catman and I can be Kenny” Logan said while showing them the tiktok on his phone. Y/n laughed and turned to Logan. 

“You being Kenny is insane” 

“Why?” 

“Oscar should be Kenny and you should be Cartman” Y/n responded as if it were obvious. 

“Stop defending your boyfriend. I don’t want to be Cartman”

“Lando. You are literally Cartman”

“ I am not! I already bought the costumes in our sizes so shut up”

“Wait, why did my card got charged” 

-> <-

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oscarpiastri I am never saying yes for a 4th of July party.

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yourusername who is that lady in the last picture, she is quite attractive

landonorris I look so good in this pic, what the fuck

logansargent oscars active era?

charlesleclerc I think I missed a chapter, what's up with that last picture

-> landonorris I don't even know what's going on, I thought the little guy that flirts was still in the picture

-> francolapinto i am taller than you

Francolapinto invite me next time

-> oscarpiastri No.

-> <-

“Damn it! Everyone to the bathroom right now!” Logan yelled, making everyone enter the small shared bathroom. Logan gripped on his towel showing it to the group. “Is someone playing a joke on me? Honestly, why is my towel still damp?”

“Because that’s not your towel, Logan. It’s my towel” Lando responded, pointing at the blue towel he was holding. Logan looked at Lando with fear. 

“No it’s not. Your towel is the red one. It always has been the red one” 

“I'll tell you this, pal. I've never used that. I do use that one every single day.”

“Oh, God.” Logan said, gagging. 

‘This towel's so warm and fluffy. It's like it's been in the sun forever.” Y/n said, touching the red towel. 

“This means you two have been drying your junk with the same towel.” Oscar commented, trying to escalate the situation. 

“Intimate.”

“Are you out of your mind?! What do you mean, am I... How do you think this is your towel? Do you even wash it?” Logan asked, trying to not get worked up, which he was failing miserably.  

“No, I don't wash the towel; the towel washes me. Who washes a towel?” Lando responded matter of factly while the others looked at him shocked. 

“You never wash?”

“You wash your towel?” 

“You never wash the towel?” 

“What am I going to do? Wash the shower next? Wash a bar of soap? You got to think here, pal.” Lando said, rolling his eyes. 

“I'm furious right now.” 

“ I get out of the damn shower, I'm clean as a damn baby, and I use the towel.”

“Let me ask you this. Have you been wearing my underpants” Logan asked as his eye twitch. 

“Sometimes, yeah. Who cares? You guys don't wear each other's underpants? You're lying. We all wear each other's underwear.”

-> <-

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logansargent loving my roommates (excluding the little one)

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landonorris the little one?! y/n is the little one. I am taller than her

-> yourusername oh shut up short king

-> logansargent take away the king

-> yourusername short

-> logansargent short

-> carlosainz short

-> oscarpiastri short

-> alexalbon short

-> georgerussell short

-> francolapinto short

oscarpiastri you are so American, im scared

-> <-

“I want to see who got podium!” Oscar said through his headset grinning, while lando scoffed. 

“I obviously got podium, did you not see my hard work out there? I for certain won” Lando replied hitting the table in front of him. As the screen went black. 

They all had been like that for the past two hours and none of them had gotten podium. So they had come up with a group strategy for at least one of them to come on top. When the screens comes back up lando yells angrily while Logan groans. 

“You guys didn’t give me five starts!” 

“Come on, Lando! We can’t  all be on the podium” Y/n replied from her room through the headset.

“You are such and ass. My outfit was better than your. Fuck! The theme was Main Character, you did a basic outfit, while I actually played the game correctly and did Sharpay Evans. It pisses me off that I lost. Like this game is dress to impress. Not dress to be mediocre. I am done”

logansargent via insta stories! oscarpiastri via insta stories!

-> <-

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yourusername apartment 512 got a doggy!

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charlesleclerc now our doggies can have a doggy date

-> landonorris I don't want my dog near your dog, leclerc

logansargent why did we also get pictures of you and Oscar? what happen to that handsome guy

landonorris if you guys are together don't you dare break up because we have a lease together, thanks x

alexalbon since when is Oscar this happy

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oscarpiastri my favorite roommate

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landonorris I didn't get a post for my birthday

logansargent I think we are out of the loop what is happening

alexalbon Oscar is in his active era. I am afraid

yourusername love you, Osc.

logansargent you guys can't leave me alone with lando if you move out!

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

[kitten4sannie]

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ɪɴ

ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ/ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

pairing: bf! yunho x fem! reader

genre: smut

summary: your boyfriend has a surprise for you.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: hard dom! yunho, sub! reader, big dick yunnie, mc and yunho are both perverts here <3, sexting, brief implied voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, yunnie wears a balaclava ^^ so mask kink!!, cnc roleplay, glove kink?? idk, name calling, pet names, praise, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, oral (giving/receiving), fingering, squirting, deep-throating, choking, breath play, throatpie

a/n: you can’t tell me that the guy in the banner doesn’t look like yunho hehe. so yeah this is one of my top fantasies and i almost lost my goddamn mind during the writing process >< enjoy my loves!!!

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ᴍᴀꜱᴄᴀʀᴀ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

After work one night, you found yourself coming home to a dark, empty house, not finding your boyfriend on the couch playing one of his favorite video games, which was unusual. The only thing that accompanied the silence was the occasional booming clap of thunder, millions of rain droplets hitting the roof of your house, flashes of lightning temporarily brightening up your living room through the sliding glass windows.

You took off your shoes and settled into the couch, turning on the TV to unwind. A few minutes passed, allowing you to fully relax, feeling your eyes grow heavy the longer you listened to the almost hypnotic sound of heavy rainfall. It wasn’t until your phone vibrated that you snapped out of it. You pulled your phone out of your pocket just in time to see the screen light up with a new message from your boyfriend. 

ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ. ɢᴏᴛ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴜɴ ^^  ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ♡ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ♡

ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ.ᴘɴɢ

Yunho had sent you a photo of himself inside a stall at his workplace bathroom, his pants pooled around his hips, his belt splayed open, one of his hands pulling the lip of his boxers down enough so that he could comfortably hold his hard, heavy cock, clear drops of pre-cum visibly dripping down along the sizable vein that led from his reddened cockhead to his balls. 

Fuck. So much for falling asleep. Now, you were wired. And was Yunho referring to that surprise? If he was, then you had a lot to be looking forward to that night. 

The image of Yunho holding his leaking cock stuck inside your mind like glue as you sifted through your toy collection inside your bedroom, trying to find something that would satiate the ache you felt in between your legs. Before you knew it, you had managed to grab your favorite toy. “Gotcha, bitch,” you mused to yourself, pulling out the clone-a-cock your boyfriend had bought for you. He filled the mold himself and everything, awarding you with a thick, nine inch suction-cup replica of his cock that you could use to fuck yourself dumb with whenever he wasn’t around. And there was no time better than the present. 

Once you threw on one of Yunho’s oversized t-shirts and a simple pair of panties, you made your way back into the living room, dildo and lube in hand, and a big perverted smile on your face. You stuck the dildo directly onto the glass of the sliding door, gazing past the streaks of rain and staring at the trees and foliage that lined your backyard. You could’ve sworn you saw something shuffling around inside one of the bushes, squinting your eyes a bit more, when your phone vibrated again. 

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ? ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɴ? ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?

ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ.ᴍᴘ3

Instead of a still image, Yunho provided you with a ninety second clip of him spitting into his hand and vigorously jerking himself off inside the stall, panting harshly into the mic, groaning out, “Y/N, fuck, babyyy,” until his words morphed into small, staccato moans, his hand squeezing around his cockhead just as spurts of liquid shot out and landed on his phone, creating a milky film over the camera lens before the clip ended. 

It seemed like Yunho was trying to drive you insane on purpose. Was that video your surprise? What else did you have to look forward to? The anticipation of what was to come filled you with adrenaline, lust, and clear desperation, already finding yourself with two hands around the long dildo that was hanging off of the glass, lubing it up with the water based warming gel you had previously squirted into your hands. Without wasting another second, you positioned yourself on your knees away from the window and pulled your shorts to the side, before you pushed back onto the thick silicone cock, moaning out as it filled you up. 

You fucked yourself to your heart’s content, driving yourself back over and over again, wishing you were getting pounded by your boyfriend, knowing he would manipulate your body like a doll’s to get you in the positon he wanted to fuck your brains out in. It felt so good to get filled up, you almost forgot to return Yunho’s message with a video of your own, one that showcased the way your cunt swallowed the toy as you rammed yourself back onto it, your hooded eyes gazing at the camera, your mouth forming an ‘o’, Yunho’s name gracing your lips. You hit send and dropped your phone onto the carpet to concentrate on reaching your high. 

Just as you were about to cum, a sudden flash of white went across your dark living room, causing your heart to stop momentarily. Something inside you told you that it wasn’t just a sudden bout of lightning, though the logical side of you told you otherwise. Either way, the build up of your orgasm began to fade away, encouraging you to slide off of the dripping dildo and check your phone, realizing you got a text from Yunho. 

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴠɪᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɪꜱ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴛʜʀᴏʙ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛ

ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ♡

ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ.ᴘɴɢ 

Your heart skipped one too many beats as your trembling fingers opened the image, seeing a voyeur’s view of your solo sexcapades in action, the flash clearly on due to the bright reflection in the window inside the 4K photo. Was this the surprise Yunho was talking about? Was he outside all along, getting off on you pleasuring yourself with what was supposed to be his cock? 

It was then that you heard a soft knocking sound coming from the other side of the sliding door. Your eyes darted up, seeing the dark outline of a tall man standing on the opposite side of the glass, just a foot away from you. What was even more frighteningly arousing was that the man was faceless, wearing a balaclava to hide his identity. 

You screamed instinctively, dropping your phone, unable to get up from the floor from how shocked you were, especially once the glass door began to slide open, the sound of rainfall even louder than before, the cold night air sending a slew of chill bumps across your exposed flesh. 

“Surprise, baby, I’m breaking in,” Yunho said in a low, almost melodic tone, one that he only used when he was in a special headspace, one that you mutually enjoyed. “I’m tired of seeing you play with your pussy like that. I want in.” 

“Go away! G-get out of here!” you yelled out, playing the part, your pulse quickening as you reached for a throw pillow that was sitting on the couch and tossed it at Yunho, doing your best to get up and get away from him. 

You barely made it to the hallway when Yunho grabbed you by the hair and pushed your head and chest into the wall, pressing himself against your ass, allowing you to feel just how hard he was underneath his damp joggers. “I-i can feel how hard you are…It’s disgusting…” 

Yunho groaned at your mean words, slowly rubbing his cock against the curve of your ass, chuckling at the way you automatically arched your back. “Now, now. Don’t pretend you’re not soaking wet for me, little slut. Your little body’s just begging me to use it.” He squeezed your tits through your shirt, making you jolt. 

“No, don’t touch me there,” you whined pathetically, arching more into his touch. 

Yunho nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your warm, flowery scent, letting out a low ‘mmm’ onto your skin. “But, baby, you’re just asking to be touched when you wear something this thin, you know? Just look at the way it’s showing off your cute little tits. Shows just how needy you are,” he mused huskily into your ear, reaching around your body to grope at your tits through your oversized t-shirt, rubbing your nipples in slow, teasing circles, occasionally squeezing them roughly, feeling them harden up underneath his gloved finger tips, eliciting an unmistakable moan from you. “Oh, that’s it, huh? Like it rough, baby?”  

“Sh-shut up…” you whispered, melting into him the longer he groped and pulled at your tits, feeling his cock throb periodically against your ass, his hands slowly moving down your abdomen to your hips, then down to your inner thighs, his fingers ghosting over your bare pussy through your sleep shorts. 

“Mm, you wouldn’t be showing off this cute little cunt of yours if you didn’t want someone like me to play with it, either. If you didn’t want to be violated like this…” Yunho continued, appearing to breathe a little harder than before, rubbing your clit up and down, your shorts so nonexistent that his fingers found your plump, wet folds, the both of you able to hear how slick you were. “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, baby. You like that I’m taking what I want?” 

“N-no…” you lied in a soft, breathy voice, your cheek smushed against the wall from the way Yunho had you pinned against it, suddenly finding yourself being spun around so that you had to face the masked man, just as he slipped two long, gloved fingers into your cunt up to the knuckle, Yunho parting his lips just as you did, moaning along with you once he began to roughly finger-fuck you. 

“Oh, baby, you’re such a bad liar…I can feel your pretty cunt squeezing hard around my fingers…Must feel good to be filled like this after trying so hard to cum around a fake cock. You must be aching for the real thing, aren’t you, Y/N?” 

“P-pleaseee…stop…” It was when Yunho curled his thrusting fingers that you tossed your head back against the wall, your thighs squeezing together. Yunho forced his knee in between them to keep them open, causing more slick to drip down his veiny forearm and onto the wood floor below. 

“Aww, you’re so cute when you think you’re in control,” Yunho sighed out, slowly lowering himself to his knees, not ceasing the violent movement of his squelching fingers for even a second. Your garbled little ‘mm-hmm’ made Yunho chuckle, lifting the bottom of his balaclava to expose the lower half of his face, bringing his nose to your clit, bumping it lightly against it as he inhaled your scent, lapping up the heavy wetness that dripped down your slit. “Mm, is my dirty little slut going to cum on my face?” 

“Y-eesssss…” As soon as Yunho slipped a third finger inside your cunt and stretched you out, your eyes rolled back, your body jolting against the wall, a spray of arousal shooting out of you and coating the bottom of Yunho’s partially masked face. He caught your squirt on his lips and tongue, moaning just from tasting your abundant arousal. 

“Good girl, that’s such a good girl,” Yunho praised you breathily, slipping his fingers out of you and spreading you open with his thumbs instead, so that he could noisily slurp your juices down his parched throat. 

Whining, you held his head down, pulling the balaclava off in the process to see his flushed, pretty face in its entirety, his soaked hair clinging to his forehead. “Feels so good, Yunnie…” you sighed, completely blissed out, rubbing your cunt along his lips and tongue once he stuck it out. 

“A-aaaah, such a naughty girl,” Yunho said with his mouth full, tonguing your cunt the best he could, using his fingers to rub your stiff clit in harsh circles until another wave of clear liquid splashed onto his face, some of it dripping along his bobbing throat, drinking down your arousal like he needed it to live. “Fucking hell, baby, I’m so hard right now…”

“Give me your cock, Yunho. I need it right now. Please,” you begged your boyfriend, who was still leaving licks and kisses over your pulsing cunt. 

Yunho eventually stood up, giving his lips a good lick, bringing his hands up around your head, slowly pushing you down until you were on your knees before him, your head pressed into the wall. “I’ll give you my cock, baby…Give it to you nice and deep…” 

 You watched with wide eyes as Yunho lowered his joggers and pulled out his leaking cock, catching the heavy tip on your tongue when he slapped it down. “In my throat?” you whispered, reaching up to place your hands on his slender hips. 

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, patting you on the head, before clutching it tightly with one hand, rubbing his cockhead around your face and lips, leaving a taste of bitter pre-cum on your lips.  “Since I made you cum that hard, I deserve to fuck your tight little throat just as hard and leave you with a tummy full of cum, don’t I? It’s only fair.” 

“I don’t swallow,” you lied, shaking your head, delighted by the way Yunho opened your jaw with his free hand and force fed you his oversized cock until your mouth was fully stuffed. 

“You’re gonna learn to swallow today, little slut. Now take my cock,” Yunho chuckled darkly, creating a makeshift ponytail around his fist, before he expertly sent his hips forward, driving his heavy cock into your mouth and down your willing throat. 

You moaned and gurgled on his rapidly moving cock, your throat making a new, much more obscene sound the longer he drove your face into his pelvis, his pubic hair tickling the tip of your nose, tears forming inside your eyes. “Mmmnnnn…”

“Oh my god, are you crying just for me, princess?” Yunho suddenly groaned, his cock pulsing inside your bulging throat, tugging roughly at your hair, keeping you pinned against the wall, only allowing you to take exactly what he decided to give you, which, this time, was a brutal throat fuck. “Why are you crying, baby? Cuz’ my cock’s down your throat? Does it feel that good?” 

All you could was let out choked, muddled moans, your hands squeezing into Yunho’s moving hips, your mind positively blank, the only thing you could focus on in the moment was one of Yunho’s gloved hands expertly wrapping around your throat to diminish your airways, leaving you pleasantly dizzy, your eyes rolling upwards. 

“I know how much my pretty girl loves to be choked. Wanna choke on my cum next?” your boyfriend mused softly, in between pants, smiling fondly down at you, a few drops of either sweat or rain landing on your face below, rubbing your tears away from your watery eyes, smearing your mascara down your cheek bones until Yunho’s hips began to stutter, more thick globs of pre-cum leaking down your throat. “Fuck, here it comes, it’s all for you, baby…”

Just as you began to swallow the obscene load of cum down your throat, Yunho pinched your nose, leading you to look up at him, more tears escaping your eyes, beginning to choke. 

“You can do it, baby…Go on and swallow for me…” Yunho whispered under his breath, clearly getting off on the way you struggled to breath with his load pouring into your raw throat. 

With your heart and cunt pounding incessantly, you gulped down the rest of your boyfriend’s load without hesitation, a few coughs bubbling out of you once Yunho let you go. “Holy fuck…” you exhaled, your gravelly voice proof of how you had been used. 

“Was that everything you dreamed of, my love?” Yunho asked softly, taking his soiled gloves off to caress your cheek lovingly, idly pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you replied instantly, nuzzling into his head, looking up at him with your big doe eyes. “Though…I need one more thing.” 

Yunho gave you a sweet smile, gently rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “What’s that, princess?” 

You pouted a bit. “Your cock. I wanna be fucked raw, Yunnie…” 

“I hear you, princess.” And with that, Yunho picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder, making you squeak with delight, giving your ass a good squeeze on the way to your bedroom.  

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[schlattslonghairytoes]

pictures and pizza📸 🌃 🌹

personal assistant reader x boss schlatt

schlatt forgets something important. again. how will he make it up to you?

working for schlatt was easy

getting every thing done meant you guys could kinda just hang out

you two were getting along great, you were basically friends, except you cooked for him, cleaned, and kept his schedule moving

and you were beginning to love it

but not everything can be perfect

there was one thing about schlatt that was very hard to deal with

schlatt is really fucking stubborn and no diss, a bit lazy

like omfg it was getting old

if he didnt want to do something, or better yet, didnt want to get out of bed!

there was no use, you had no chance of convincing him

but that is your job, and you were damn good at it

it was 10am, as that was the set time you and schlatt decided work began. he had gifted you a key to his apartment after one morning, where you had to call his little sister to let you in, you thought schlatt was dead.

he just fell asleep with headphones on.

anywho, you let yourself in and tidyed up the living room, because the night before schlatt promised you he would be up and ready at 10, he had an extremely important meeting at 11 that was kinda far.

like he could not miss this.

so you trusted him, you also hated barging into his room, it felt like a total invasion of privacy to you, schlatt didnt care when you did it, but to you it was the end of the world

so you waited.

and waited

until you knew he would not make it on time if he wasnt up.

so you mustered up all your courage and knocked on his door.

... silence

by then you gave up and opened the door, and oh lord if you werent mad at him it wouldve been the cutest thing youve ever seen

he was spread across his bed, limbs and blankets everywhere, and jambo and garlic bread (i am not writing REACTED every time.) were cuddled up on top of him. jambo curled up in his left arm, and garlic bread sprawled across his right leg

for a moment you forgot you were mad at him, he looked so handsome, yet so adorable, his mouth was open, and he was snoring softly, and honestly drooling a bit

you pulled out your phone and took a picture, wanting to make it your lockscreen but too scared he would see it. you hearted the picture in your camera roll before opening youtube

you connected your phone to his speaker in the room, and searched "morning bugle call" and hit play on full volume

jambo and garlic bread went flying off of schlatt as he sat up and slapped his hands over his ears "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT" you were wheezing on the floor at that point

when you finally stopped laughing you locked in and turned of the sound, then frowned slightly at him "up and at it, we were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, you have 5 minutes to get ready. your outfit is picked and hung in the closet, lets go." and you shut his door and sat waiting on the couch

he was out in 4 minutes and 26 seconds. you handed him the breakfast you got him and made your way out the door silently.

"toots, im so sorry, i know i said i would wake up, i swear i set an alarm, c'mon dont be mad at me doll. i promise it wont happen again." he followed hot on your tail, almost chasing you.

like if someone saw they might be worried your about to be abducted.

you sighed and got in the drivers seat of your car, you wanted him to eat so you decided he could be the passenger princess for once

"schlatt this is the third time this week, im not mad, like this is literally my job, but it throws the whole day off, its whatever, eat your breakfast so you dont pass out at the meeting." the meeting was in new jersey and you didnt want to hear schlatts bitching the whole way

you turned up the music and hoped he would be quiet

schlatt on the other hand was rethinking his entire being

how could he let you down again, all he wants is for you to love and want your job, and hes already jepordizing that. for the span of the 30 minute car ride he hatched a plan.

after his four hour meeting he was drained, he waited to see your car pull up and get him, but you were taking an abnormally long time, he was getting worried

but those fears subsided quickly when he recived a text from you

"im gonna kms johnny. why the fuck did you have to have a meeting in new fucking jersey. traffic is insane, be there in 30 minutes pls dont die to a homeless man."

that certainly made him feel better, he searched for a near by store or cafe, but when he found a flower shop he knew that it was redemption time

you on the other hand wanted to throw yourself off of a freeway.

the traffic leaving the city to new jersey was insane, why on a thursday at 430 was traffic slower than joe biden falling off a bike? dont have the answer to that one

but this drive gave you time to think, it wasnt schlatts fault he had trouble waking up, and when traffic got so bad you could literally park, you went on amazon and bought him an alarm clock

one that will for sure wake him up, problem solved. now you could relax. night changes played on aux (rip liam 🥲) and you could think about the man you were ten minutes away from picking up

you opened your phone to see the picture from this morning, you decided so what if he sees, this picture ment the world to you, even though schlatt had been in your life for nearing a month, you knew he'd somehow be apart of it forever

schlatt stood outside of a coffee shop you told him to wait at, holding stuff that could possibly help fix his mistake.

when your car pulled up he started to get nervous, what if he got the wrong flowers, or they didnt make your coffee right, but those doubts melted away when your car came to a hault

you watched him open his door and hand you a large bouquet of flowers and a cold brew. overwhelmed at first you didnt realise what you were holding. you placed the cup into your cup holder and looked at the flowers infront of you

it was made up of roses, lilys, sweetpeas, carnations, alstroemerias, daphnes at the bottom you think?, ruscus, dusty millers, and eucalyptus.

you didnt even know this many pretty flowers existed, after placing the boquet on your lap, you reached over and threw your arms around schlatt

"johnny what is this!" you exclaim, voice muffled my his neck, suprised he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close

"thought you deserved a gift after i fucked up this morning" he sighs, whichmakes you pull away, but you place a hand on his cheek, slightly scratching his beard with your nails

"oh jay, i wasnt even really mad, this is the nicest thing anyones every done for me" you look at him in awe as he leans into your touch.

"yeah but i feel bad, m' gonna make it up to you, tonight your comin' over, were gonna watch 10 things i hate about you, play mario kart, and order pizza, dont ever let me break your trust again, sound good toots?" his smirk cut right through your heart

oh he looked so kissable right now

that night was spent cuddled up on his couch, playing wii games, forcing schlatt to watch rom coms, and stuffing your faces with pizza

he made you feel like you were in a rom com

that was only just beginning

[chariaki]

Sober confession

Best friends to lovers with Atsumu Miya.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who loved walking down the halls with you during break times when you were highschoolers.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who thought he was "lowkey" in begging you to come watch him at his practice matches after school.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who flashes you his confident smirk and wink everytime he asses his serves and sets.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who never fails to make you laugh. He's so sweet, funny, kind and thoughtful.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who loves to laugh with you.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who's eyes crinkle in a pretty way, his lips smile wide and open, the sound of his laugh so real, so sweet, so him.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers in your favorite color and treated you out in celebration for the both of you graduating highschool.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who was extremely a little deflated when you and him graduated highschool because then you would be seperated in college. He wanted to go to a the college with the best team and volleyball offers, and you had your own dream you wanted to follow.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who couldn't muster up the guts to tell you he loves you, has loved you for ten years, and will keep on loving you, because he fears you don't feel the same love he does. You looked so happy and he didn't want to selfishly ruin that.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who is an outspoken, confident and shameless little bitch in doing everything, but he's always extra thoughtdul and careful with you, he's still annoying, but more considerately. He just can't find it in his heart to say or do something that might hurt you, because he's aware he can be too over his head.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who loves hanging out at your place because he claims it's "close to his college and he's too tired to walk the extra 4 blocks to his place."

Bestfriend!Atsumu's real reason for that is because he loves how your place is so evident of you. The lingering sweet scent in the air, the warm lights, the fluffy rugs, the decorations of your favorite things displayed everywhere. He loves them, because he loves you.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who always peacefully falls asleep on your couch, on the pillows that smells like you, hugging one of your plushies while wrapped up in your girly blanket.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who reserves the best seat in the stadium for you, so you can enjoy watching his game.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who always looks for you and up at you first everytime he wins his games.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who runs to you, as if he's running in a race, and hugs you tightly, as if it's the last, everytime you meet him by their changing room after their games, whether he won or lost. He just happy you're there.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who sometimes gets drunk with his teammates after a game, and so comes home to your place, laying down beside your front door passed out. You always have to carry his heavy and muscled body, his breath reekingbof alcohol, but always, always holding you so tightly. Either by your waist, or bluntly hugging you with you sat on his lap when you finally place him on your couch.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who gets drunk again with his teammates in celebration for their awesome win, this time inviting you out to drink and eat with them.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who makes sure to sit next to you.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who smiles so fondly while looking admiring you and even holds your hand under the table while you bond with his teammates.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who got drank continously and got drunk first, eventually speaking incoherently in a louder volume with his actions all clumsy.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who gets tired and leans his head on your shoulder, not caring about his teammates looking and teasing.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who moves his head to look up at you and without thinking, kisses your cheek. His lips stay there for a few seconds, eyes locked with yours, then on your lips. His hand moves up to caress your other cheek, pathetically leaning his drunken body over yours.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who would have almost kissed you then and there with his teammates oggling, if it weren't for drunken Bokuto throwing his chicken nuggets at his face.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu attempted to slap Bokuto across his face with an empty pizza box.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who's eyes widened, face reddened and flustered, body twitched when you held his hand to stop him.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who just stood there, oggling at your hand on top of his.

Drunk bestfriend!Atsumu who enterwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up and towards the exit to have some alone time and some fresh air.

Drunk Bestfriend!Atsumu who ignores his annoying teammates' cheers and exclamations of "Go get her, loverboy!!" "WOOHOOOOO!" "lOvE iS iN tHe AiRrRrRrrrrrrr~~~~~ "

Drunk Bestfriend!Atsumu who holds your two hands in his big and warm hands, eyes searching for any emotion in yours, tall and buff figure hovering over yours. He inches his head closer to yours and rests his forehead on yours.

"I.... love you."

He breathes out. Mouth agape, hands tightening his hold on yours, chest rising and falling, eyes intensely staring at yours for your reaction. He speaks once more before you can reply,

"I have always loved you.

Your smile, your laugh, your big brown eyes, the way they crinkle when you're happy, your hair, your hands, your attitude, your kindness, your voice, your presence....... I can't love anyone else but you. Just being with you makes me nervous, happy and content. I know I have always..... always loved you and I know I will keep on loving you, and so...... I want you to know that and...... maybe...... make you love me too."

Bestfriend!Atsumu who's heart is pounding more loudly than it is when he's playing, he's nervous. He doesn't want to lose you.

Bestfriend!Atsumu who registers it late in his brain the feeling of your soft lips kissing his. The way your hands grip his curls to push his face on yous, and...

"I love you, Atsumu Miya."

Boyfriend!Atsumu who got the guts from the alcohol, but then sobers up and decides to pour his heart out while sober.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 3.7k

Chapter 4/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father.  The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst. 

Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him. 

He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could. 

“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”

At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity. 

He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now. 

“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar. 

“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”

His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy. 

There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain. 

Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams. 

It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink. 

“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”

A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him. 

“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”

Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?

The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'

The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.

“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”

“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.

“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.  

“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”

“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.

The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.

“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.

“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.

“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.

Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals. 

He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.

“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”

“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.

You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.

A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.

A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.

You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?

“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”

You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”

The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?

“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”

He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”

“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”

“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”

“Your personal business?” 

“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”

Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.” 

“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”

He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”

Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”

“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss. 

“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed. 

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”

The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch. 

You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.

It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.

You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.

Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.

He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know. 

It wasn’t you.

When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.

“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”

Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit. 

“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”

Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”

Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”

“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”

“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control. 

Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised. 

“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”

He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—

“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”

--

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[irisintheafterglow]

lights, camera, bitch, smile!

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "i can do it with a broken heart"

summary: it's your first time headlining the biggest music festival in the country, and your guitarist is nowhere to be found. good thing your other headliner-- and billboard chart rival-- can play guitar, right? right? (rockstar!gojo x popstar!reader)

wc: 2.73k

cw/tags: implied fem!reader but gn pronouns used, rivals to lovers, he falls first, mild angst (descriptions of a panic attack)/fluff with happy ending

note: this is another fic as a part of @ficsforgaza and a gift for @um-no-ok for donating and supporting palestinian families! interested in being a part of this initiative? check out my masterpost ! hope you enjoy this, i had a lot of fun writing it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“You’re sure the flight is still running late?” You plead, head in your hands as the tech lead, your publicist, and your manager sit apologetically on the other sofa in your trailer. “We can’t send out a car to go grab them from the airport as soon as they land?”

“Getting off festival grounds will be hard enough, not to mention battling the traffic of incoming guests,” the tech guy reminds you with a shake of his head, exhaling deeply as his radio crackles, another warning that you need to be on stage to sound check. In a matter of hours, you would be headlining the biggest music festival in the country, and both your guitarists were stranded hundreds of miles away. They should have known better than to take a gig right before the festival, but you let them do it anyway because it was only a 30 minute flight between the airports. But, after a stray bird flock nearly downed another passenger plane, the tarmac was backed up for the time being. “Can you try asking around to see if someone can fill in for them?”

“And maybe hire them instead,” your publicist mutters under her breath, seething. You shoot her a wry smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with the plug of your in-ear monitors.

“The band is out trying to find guitarists, but it’ll be hard to ask someone to fill in because of scheduling issues and the number of stages there are this year.” Your manager takes a peek at her watch and looks at you with regret. “You need to go soundcheck, guitarists or not.” 

“We have a drummer, a bassist, two keyboardists, and a vocalist. You’re gonna make them go out there with a jazz band and expect them to sing the biggest pop songs on the planet?” Your publicist, bless her heart, voices what you’d been dreading since you got the call from your lead guitarist. It was the biggest test to your professionalism since your career took off and you silently wished you’d paid attention to those tour bus guitar lessons. “How bad would it be to push back the set, even thirty minutes?”

“Bad, very bad. There’ve already been more delays than anticipated that aren’t music related,” the tech lead replies with a grimace. Your publicist curses under her breath and gives you a look telling you to get on stage. “And, it’s too late to fly in guitar tracks, even if we had them.” Shit. You’d just have to trust your team to figure something out, you figure, grabbing your sunglasses from the coffee table and exiting the trailer. 

The rest of your band is already plugged in by the time the golf cart drives you to the main stage where you’d be performing. The ruthless summer sun competed with barely any clouds, blazing anything in its sight and leaving you breaking a sweat, even in the shade. A stage hand slips a wireless pack onto the waistband of your shorts and the click of the volume knob brings you the dweedling sounds of your band. The audience lot is relatively empty, thankfully, save for a few brave souls who were taking care of sound. Steeling your nerves, you shoot the audio tent a thumbs up, pop in your in-ears, and wait for the click track to run. 

CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 

The synth intro of your walkout song rings concerningly quiet in your ears and you tap your in-ears a few times, signaling the sound tent with a thumbs-up until the rest of the keyboards are audible. Not a great start to sound check, but that’s what this time was for, right?

CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Drums and bass in. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 

Nothing. 

The click continues its monotonous beat and you vaguely make out bass at the bottom of your mix, but you and your drummer look at each other with the same confused expression. She taps her ears, shaking her head. 

“W-Wait, wait, wait. Can we stop, please?” You speak your request into your mic, disheartened to not hear your own voice in your mix. The synths stop abruptly, as does bass, and a dozen tech people rush onstage to fix various audio problems. “This is a nightmare,” you mutter, wiping the beads of sweat accumulated on your forehead. 

“It’s always mix issues, isn’t it?” As if your irritation couldn’t increase, your eye twitches on its own when you register the voice of the person standing at the bottom of the stage. All shining white hair and dark, round rimmed sunglasses, Gojo Satoru was the last person you wanted to be interacting with. To say he looked good would be an understatement and your eyes look for any place to focus on other than his chest under his unbuttoned shirt. “For what it’s worth, you sound pretty on the mic.”

“What do you want?” Your voice is tired already, as is your entire body. Figuring out who would replace both your guitarists had sapped your energy and doors weren’t even open yet. “I don’t have the time nor the energy to debate with you today–”

“Heard you were looking for guitarists,” he cuts in and you narrow your eyes. The last thing you needed was your Billboard chart rival mocking you and your current situation. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that. You and I both know you’re in a less-than-ideal spot right now.”

“Choose your next words very wisely, Gojo,” you seethe, using every ounce of your willpower to remain civil. “If you’re here to tease me, I don’t wanna fucking hear it.” 

“I wanna help you,” he says before you’ve stalked out of earshot. “I can fill in for your lead and Suguru can play rhythm. I’ve already talked to him about it and he’s down. We’ve got the chords alright, but if anything funky happens, we’ll just follow your bassist. We’re pros for a reason, aren’t we?” 

“I don’t need your help, Gojo,” you lie, desperately looking around for anything to get you out of this conversation. 

“Thought I told you to call me Satoru when we were at that awards show.” His voice was always velvet smooth, disarmingly charming, and you hated the way it drew you in like a moth to a candle. 

“I don’t remember that; and, if you did, I still don’t care.” We’re back on, says a voice through your ears. Starting the click on your cue, lead. 

“Seems like you don’t remember a lot about what happened that night. I wouldn’t mind recounting it for you since it seemed like you had so much fun,” he baits coolly and you fall for it, storming back to the front of the stage and looking him square in his pretty face. Memory remnants of dancing in colorful strobe lights and running your hands through his hair appear in your mind’s eye before you can stop them, and it must register on your face. “Ah, so maybe you do remember what happened if you’re this angry about it.”

“We’re rivals, Gojo,” you hiss, your vision close to going scarlet. “We’re not supposed to be buddy-buddy, and what happened at that afterparty was a slip of my better judgment.”

“We’re not supposed to be, or you’re scared to be?” His question hangs in the air and you have no choice but to glare at him, waiting for him to back down when you know he never will. After a long pause, he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you’re in need of guitarists and I just wanna help. Consider it a favor.”

“Favors need to be paid back,” you counter skeptically, “and you’re the last person I want to owe.” 

“Not my kind of favors,” he says, more genuinely than you’re used to him being. “Just…think about it, yeah?” You don’t have time to dwell on why he was being so nice to you, though, as you give the audio tent a thumbs-up again. CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 

By the time you’ve suffered through soundcheck, changed into your stage outfit, and inhaled more setting spray than should be considered healthy, the sun has become a laser. Gojo is nowhere to be found, thankfully, and you spend the rest of the time before your set pacing your trailer like a caged animal. There wasn’t any room in your mind to think about the crowd, the heat, or the extensive team counting on you to make it a worthwhile show. All that you could focus on was your lack of guitarists and the proposition from your #1 enemy in the music industry. Before you could cross from the kitchen tile to the living area carpet for the umpteenth time, the door threw itself open to reveal your breathless manager. 

“We found guitarists! Let’s go, before they change their mind,” she commands. You thank the music festival gods for whomever she found, even happier knowing that it couldn’t be Gojo and Geto because their band had just finished on the other largest stage. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you answer uneasily, still reeling from switching panic-mode into show-mode within minutes. “Let’s just hope they’re good.” 

This next artist needs no introduction…

The golf cart parks sidestage. 

Dominating the pop charts for twelve straight weeks, taking the industry by storm…

You wink at the handful of screaming fans that spot you before ducking backstage. 

And nominated for the most prestigious awards in the music world…

The stagehand slips the pack onto the waistband of your pants and hands you a mic. 

Performing live and streaming around the world… [CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and–] Make some noise for–

“Yo, Satoru. You got an extra pick?” Your synths come in at the same time you whirl around, heart dropping into your stomach when you see the two guitarists behind you. You recognize Geto with his signature black hair tied up in a bun and catching rays of sunlight reflecting off the turtle shell body of his electric guitar. The limited interactions you had with Geto were pleasant, but the same couldn’t be said about the other musician fishing a pick from his leather pants. “Thanks,” Geto says as he sticks the spare in his pocket, clocking your shocked expression and giving you an apologetic shrug. “Sorry we’re a little late, the set ran a little long because this dumbass wanted to do another encore. I made the golf cart guy race over here, though.” He motions in the direction of your temporary lead guitarist, who unsuccessfully tries to clean his sunglasses with his fishnet shirt. “Oi, hotshot. Get ready, we’re on soon.” CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Drums and bass in. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 

“They’re smudged,” Gojo pouts and you act without thinking, snatching the glasses from his hands, wiping it on your own costume, and handing it back to him without meeting his gaze. “Oh. Thank you,” he mumbles, sticking them on his face and trying to catch your eye. There were too many things happening at once for you to worry about him.

“Mhmm. Thanks for filling in,” you choke out with no trace of malice, the pressure in your forehead and chest becoming suffocating. The gravity of your performance crashes down on you in one disorienting wave and you blink in an attempt to clear the sudden blurry spots in your vision. Hundreds of thousands of eyes, waiting on you, watching you, worshiping you. The biggest performance of your career thus far, and you were going onstage prepared with nothing but a terrible soundcheck and two rock stars that probably didn’t give a shit about pop music. It was too much, it was all too much–

“Hey.” It’s him, breaking through the static as the click fades into the background, any panic replaced by the feeling of your biggest rival lightly touching the side of your face. He wipes a stray bead of sweat from your forehead, and you’re close enough to see every shimmering fleck of turquoise in his eyes. The crowd noise is staggering, but all he sees is you. “You look beautiful.” 

“Satoru,” you whisper, barely able to verbalize your panic. He understands anyway, confidence radiating from his body. 

“I’m with you. I’ve gotcha,” he reassures you, letting you mirror him as he takes a deep breath. “You trust me?” CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Guitars in, vocals enter. 1…2…1-2-3 and–

“I-I do.” 

“Great.” His grin is dazzling, heart-stopping. All of him, he’s yours. “Let’s have some fun, then.” 

— 

You sleepily blink open an eye as you register the ringtone for your publicist playing on the nightstand. Outstretching a tired arm, you find it a little hard to move with the other occupant of the bed securing you against his chest. You mutter Satoru’s name, unsure if he’s awake yet; he grunts with his eyes still closed and you figure it’s unconscious, the way his muscles tighten around your waist to pull you closer. You groan as the phone screen blinks off, then on again with another insistent call. 

“Satoru, you need to let me go.”

“I already did that once,” he mumbles into the pillowcase, “and I’m not making that mistake again.”

“I need to pick up the phone, baby. It’s my publicist,” you counter gently and it’s his turn to groan, reluctantly peeling away to rub his eyes. “Thank you,” you say sweetly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before answering the phone. 

There you are. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, says your publicist, her incredulity obvious.

“Mhmm, good morning to you too. Everything okay?” You squint against the morning sun breaking through the windows of Satoru’s loft, the city skyline casting rainbows on the walls. 

Everything’s great, just wanted to let you know what’s been happening media-wise. 

“They figure out where we are yet?”

Not yet, no. But, you know how these things go. They’ll find you eventually, so savor the time you have with him now. Right now, you have a lot of late-night outlets asking for interviews and a few charity ball performances lined up. It’s all stuff you can handle, don’t worry. Aside from the scheduling talk, her warnings were things you already knew. It was weeks before social media users finally settled down after Satoru and Suguru joined you on stage. Satoru had even convinced you to create a burner account so you could scroll through all the edits and fancams of you two. Now that you’d reconciled your feelings about Satoru and agreed to let you two make up for all the time you lost to your stubbornness, it was relatively peaceful. On another note, I did see a pretty cute reel counting all the times he looked at you during your festival set. 

“Yeah? And how many times was it?”

More than you looked at him, which is saying something, she chuckles. I’m still reeling from how chaotic the crowd was when those two walked out with you. You’d think there was a fire breaking out, or something. 

“They were pretty loud, weren’t they?” You smile softly at the memory of strutting out in your boots with Satoru and Suguru on either side of you. “I think they went crazier when Satoru started soloing, though.”

“I’m not called the best for nothing, sweetheart,” he murmurs from behind you with a smirk. “These hands are worth millions, and you get them for free–”

“Okay, that’s enough from you,” you cut in before he says anything more. “Please, ignore him.”

What’d he say? 

“Nothing important.” Your cheeks heat and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, only to be met by a self-satisfied wink that makes your heart race. 

I’ll take your word for it. What’s your plans for today? 

“Breakfast, probably, and then maybe head down to the shopping district.”

That’s pretty public, no? 

“I don’t mind. I’m ready for whatever they throw at us,” you shrug, honestly feeling like you couldn’t care less about being seen with Satoru. You look over at him again and find boyish, giddy excitement written all over his face. He was yours and you were his, mind, body, and soul. Let the cameras come, let the tabloids rave, let the fake fans criticize, you think to yourself.

As long as you two were together, you were untouchable.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[naonoholics]

New Releases

Hiya All (｡◕‿◕｡) Today we have a plethora of releases to share with everyone! First up is chapter 18 of Boku no Danna-sama (My Dear Husband) by Naono Bohra which marks the start of volume 4! Next up we have the Trip Lovers -Fly- Dj by Naono Bohra. Many thanks to Fujoshi Bitches for providing the scans. Been sitting on this one for a while so I'm happy that we are finally able to release it. We also have episode 6 of Tonari no Hyakkai Kenbunroku by Watanuki Yoshiko. I can't wait until you all see what happens in the next volume. It had me like ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?

My Dear Husband 18: (Media Fire) (MEGA) Trip Lovers -Fly-: (Media Fire) (MEGA) Tonari no Hyakkai Kenbunroku Ep 6: (Media Fire) (MEGA)

Lastly we are sharing the start of a new series. A special release on behalf of the mysterious Kusuriuri. Chapter 1 and 2 of Mononoke: Karakasa by Kitsuneko Nagata.

Mononoke: Karakasa Ch 1: (Media Fire) (MEGA) Mononoke: Karakasa Ch 2: (Media Fire) (MEGA) Enjoy all the new releases and Happy Reading~!

[waywardducks]

Incorrect bat family quotes but as things me and my sibling have done/said.

Jason: *just trying to read* *feels an eery presence just watching him.*

Damien and Tim: *both just starting at him*

Jason: Yes? Can I help you?

Tim: Slushies

Jason: okay?

Damien: Take us to them.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick: *Chilling in his bed*

Cass: *very slowly opening the door to his room*

Both: *just stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time*

Dick: Please, child. What is it? I can't handle this suspense.

Cass: *quietly* I have a pool party today…

Dick: okay? I'm glad for you.

Cass: …

Cass: Can you go buy me tampons?

Dick:

Dick: Of fucking course I can go buy you tampons! *already jumping out of bed* What size?

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Damien: *angry, slamming doors, punching walls, screaming at everyone*

Tim: Autism is one hell of a bitch

Dick: Tim, no

Jason: No, no, he's got a point. We really should get him checked out.

Damien: I CAN HEAR YOU

*he was diagnosed with autism the following month*

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Stephaine: *putting makeup on Cass* almost done!

Tim: we need to hurry, the movie is starting soon

Stephanie: It's fine, we have plenty of time, now let me do your makeup.

Dick: What are y'all doing? Why is everything… pink?

Cass: We are going to watch Barbie

Dick: Can I come?

Steph: Nah it's girls night?

Dick: Then why is Tim going?

Steph: He's one of the girls, obviously.

Tim: Yeah, obviously.

Dick: *crying* I wanna be one of the girls too

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Bruce: Hey, Tim

Tim: Yeah? What's up?

Bruce: Remember how you're therapist mention she thought you might have ASD?

Tim: Yeah, she said she wasn't %100 percent sure on it though.

Bruce: Well she just sent me a document confirming your diagnosis.

Tim:

Dick: Woah dude! Congrats on the tism!

Jason: Welcome to the spectrum little bro!

Damien: Is Dick the only one that isn't ASD?

Dick: *is sad bc he's left out of the club again*

- ✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick, Tim, Jason and Damien: *driving down the road at 4 in the morning, blasting fnaf songs at full volume* IVE GOT NO TIME!! I've GOT NO TIME TO LIVE

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tim: Jason. I'm bi

Jason: Okay

Tim: Okay? That's all you have to say?

Jason: damn Tim, tf you want be to say? Sorry?

Tim: No! I just thought-

Jason: If you have boy problems go to Dick. He's the one with the most experience in that field.

Dick: Hey! I resent that!

Jason: Oh please, you can call yourself straight all you want but you and both know you've what kinda person you were when you first became Nightwing.

Dick: I wasn't gay Jason I was a slut its different.

Jason: sure, okay.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

I'm gonna make this a series lmao. Being in a house with 6 kids gives you a lot of stories.

Also, yes, 3 of my younger siblings are officially diagnosed with autism. (Damien and my sister are literally the same person. I have so many headcanons about it, it's not even funny. She even has the same insane art skills, I'm terrified of how fast she learned to do things I've been in school for years to learn)

[rickysvxr]

nsfw a to z - ricky

warning - just smut, ricky x f!reader

MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI

a - aftercare

ricky's the sweetest when it comes to aftercare. he would immediately turn into lovelicky :(( he would ask you if you're alright and if he didn't hurt you too much. he would definitely clean you both and make some food. if you prefer sleeping - he would cuddle you to sleep and sing for you.

b - boobs

ricky's a boob guy - you can't tell me otherwise. when he sleeps he's cuddled into your boobs. he really likes squeezing them. while you ride him he likes sucking on your nipples and leave some hickeys.

c - cum

he would cum into your pussy unless you don't want him to. ricky wants you to be comfortable with anything he's doing. also he's really into cumming into your mouth or on your face.

d - daddy kink

he will definitely make you call him daddy. or maybe sir??? he'd be so into roleplay. he'd call you his little kitten or something. call him daddy and he'd immediately get hard.

e - experience

you both weren't really experienced but ricky knew what to do to make you feel the best. he's open to trying new things.

f - fingering

he'd finger you while you're visiting your family.. he's such a bitch and he knows that. he's also into fingering you when you're studying/working. he really needs your attention :((

g - gagging

he knows you can't take his whole dick to your mouth so he won't force you to anything and he would try not to hurt you. if he would - he'd do it unintentionally.

h - hickeys

for him - he likes leaving them on your boobs or tights so places that only him (and you) can see. you like giving him hickeys on his neck (right on his tattoo 🙈).

i - intimacy

when it comes to real sex he'd like to do it in your bedroom so you both have that private place. but he would also fuck you in the backseat of his car.

j - jerk off

he would definitely send you videos of him jerking off. he would tie a little ribbon on his dick :((

k - kinks

overstimulation, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names (idk if it counts), scratching, roleplay.

l - locations

bedroom, his car, couch, floor.

m - making out

ricky likes to make out late at night when he wakes you up just to make out with you :(( you'd be so sleepy but he loves it so much.

n - no's

he definitely wouldn't force you to anything. ricky wouldn't like to make you cry :( but besides that he's open to anything that you want to try.

o - orgasms

ricky would cum A LOT. it doesn't matter how you make him do that - he would cum a lot. he does at least 3 or 4 rounds (it's minimum for him btw).

p - pet names

baby, darling, sweetheart, my kitten, good girl, princess, sweetie, cutie, slut.

q - quickie

he'd be so into quickies. like before his performance? he would really love it. but still he likes to take his time with you.

r - relationship

in the bedroom - he's really wild and hot. he'd be the bitchest bitch to ever bitch. still he would give you whatever you want (he likes teasing a lot tho).

outside the bedroom - he turns into lovelicky. he's the sweetest person on the earth and you want him to know that! you both love when you're babying him. just give this man some attention and he'd be the happiest person in the world.

s - stamina

as i said before - ricky would do 3 or 4 rounds with you and it's his minimum! he would literally fuck you all day if you both could 😭 he still makes sure he's not hurting you or something. he always asks you if you want to go for an another round.

t - toys

vibrator and that's it. he doesn't like when something other than him is making you feel good. and he lets you know that.

u - unfair

he would make you cum every time. he doesn't like leaving you unsatisfied - it just hurts him. he's into teasing but he'd definitely make you cum before he's done.

v - volume

he likes when you moan so loud - it's music to his ears. he would groan and sometimes even moan. but don't expect it from him unless you're on top.

w - i can't think of any, sorry 😭

x - x-ray

he's BIG. and he knows that. (still he fits perfectly into your pussy).

y - i can't think of any!!!

z - zzz...

he won't fall asleep before you. he always makes sure that you're sleeping, then he would go to sleep. (he's so sweet i can't 😭).