#a fun drabble
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Weâre packing lunch now?
đ„Șđđ§đ„Šđ§
Lunch- courtesy of a certain Eldritch woman. (Not me-)
"I guess so? Let's see what we have here~!"
"Whoa, a Monte Cristo! And toasted extra hard, just how I like it! Oooh, a honey crisp apple! They are perfectly in season, right now~! Whooooooaaaa, is that a Juicy-Juice Strawberry Kiwi juice box? Ahhh, steamed broccoli with a little bit of butter! Oh...? Oh my goodness, there's a butterscotch cupcake in here..."
One moment, she's trying her best not to absolutely wail with joy. She thanks the universe, mostly exactly who she knows sent this will just know, before digging in. Very, very happy goober noises.
(Maybe next time~?)
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hot rod â a.donaldson & p.zweig
pairings; art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x patrick zweig
summary; patrick comes to visit you and art at college. he finds college life is a lot more adventurous than once anticipated
warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, threesome, overstim, oral (m receiving), sub leaning!reader and art, more dom leaning!patrick, established throuple, polyamory
a/n; iâm not so sure how i feel about this tbh. i love the dynamic though so i pushed through even when it got away from me a littleđ„Č there will be another drabble for older!art and his pretty girl soon!!
you and art fuck until youâre brain dead and passed out from exhaustion. always have. neither of you possess an off switch, and when patrickâs not there to rein the pair of you in, things get a little⊠messy.
his cum is dried in your hair, the sticky substance smeared across your cheek, his knuckles still wet with slick.
patrick walks in, full belly laughs and peels you from artâs sweat soaked form, gives your cheek a pinch when you stir and whine.
he doesnât clean you up because he likes to leave you naked whenever he has the opportunity â which is more often than not. seriously, you two need close supervision.
he just carries you with him to that shitty little armchair in artâs dorm, the room still stinking of sex and the humid summer air clinging to your skin; art shines with perspiration where heâs face down on the bed.
pat makes do with the lack of room, hooking a bare leg over the backs of your thighs until youâre squeezed snugly against his torso, face smushed to his chest. youâre snoring, and it makes patrick smile, slumping down in his chair to rest his lips against your cheekbone.
you wake slowly, eyes sticky and crusted over with exhaustion. your face is almost nestled beneath patrickâs armpit where youâve been writhing in slumber and you grumble at the scent of sweat, layered with cheap aftershave. his hard-on presses to the center of your stomach and you can feel everythingâ the curve it makes now itâs hard and weeping, the feel of the spongy head, the vein that runs through the middle.
âyou smell, pat,â you grumble, reaching up blindly to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth and take a long pull from the stick.
âyeah, well youâre not so hot yourself, babe. the whole room reeks.â he reaches down to tug on a loose strand of hair at the crown of your head. âthereâs cum in your hair.â
ânot my fault.â you stretch upward like a cat, curling into patrickâs chest. âwhereâs art gone?â
âstill sleeping, baby.â he lights another cigarette, sacrificing the first one to you - still resting between your lips - and the clicking of the lighter draws your head upward to gaze through heavy lashes at him.
âcome to bed,â you murmur, kissing his knuckles. your free hand coasts a long line across his jaw and you dig your thumb beneath his ear, giggling when he scrunches his features and relents, and pushes you to stand with a swat to your naked backside.
art curls into you instinctively when you roll onto the mattress, your hand threading through the curls atop his head. you scrub sweeping circles across his bare back and he hums a pleased sound, smearing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. patrick splays himself over the pair of you, all long limbs that sit askew to cover as much of your naked frames as possible.
art squints through the yellow light that illuminates the room, bright and artificial on his sensitive eyes. your movements against him donât halt, a slow, rhythmic, loving sweep of your hands that heâs come to look forward to in moments like this. his jaw tilts upward as he mouths at your neck like a starved man, like you havenât just gone five rounds and collapsed from overstimulation.
âyou two need supervision,â patrick snorts. you quirk a bemused brow. âiâm serious, look at what youâve done to each other! you look like youâve been mauled.â
âjealous, much?â art mumbles sleepily, the sound muffled through your skin. youâre laughing and it splits your expression in two, eyes crinkled with amusement as the strawberry blonde boy snipes at patrick.
âshouldâa come to college with us, pretty boy,â you giggle. âcouldâa had this twenty four seven.â you dip your head until your brow presses to artâs. âpoor pat, with no one to stick his dick in. how will he ever cope?â
âyou could help me out, sweets,â he deadpans, the nickname saccharine and sour on his tongue all at once. art watches you through heavy lids. you huff, biting playfully at artâs lip before you tilt your head to face patrick,
âokay,â you chirrup. artâs quick to sit up, separating from your warmth in favour of nuzzling against patrick. patrick tips his chin down, slanting his lips against the blonde boyâs.
meanwhile, youâre working his cock through his shorts, palming the muscle until it chubs up beneath your hand, drooling a wet patch through the fabric. patrick groans, hips rolling up into your touch when you hook your fingers beneath his waistband and tug his cock free.
he moans into artâs mouth and your mouth goes dry at the sight. youâve always loved to watch them like this, the way they get lost in each other, the way they start fervently pushing into one anotherâs space until patrick inevitably makes the first move and sticks his tongue down artâs throat.
patrick turns to putty beneath artâs roaming touch, huge paws that squeeze and grope and push at every inch of skin they come into contact with, not stopping even as you press your face to the seam of patrickâs balls, inhaling the sweat-soaked musk that creeps up your nostrils.
artâs hand snakes downward, flicking over pert nipples and ridges of muscle before heâs flicking a thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. patrickâs back bows into an arch as you lave your tongue over his sack, humming into the sensitive skin, full and heavy and begging for release. his hips rock upward into you as you seal your lips over him, eyes heavy with lust as art comes down to meet your mouth over his mushroom head.
itâs filthy and messy, downright pornographic as art licks over patrickâs cock, tongue pressing flat against the corner of your mouth and letting his spit pool there. youâre moaning - unable to help yourself - pressing your face forward to slant your lips over artâs fully. itâs all spit and drool as you lick into artâs mouth, the heady taste of the brunette boy still on your tongue, and then patrickâs bracing a hand against each of your heads and easing his cock through the seam where your spit slick mouths mesh.
you gasp and your damp lashes flutter, heavy with tears, and artâs tugging you frantically by your waist, pressing your bare chest to his own as patrick throws his head back and groans, shallow thrusts deepening. his breath stutters out in short, sharp bursts, chest heaving when your face slides down, down, down, all the way to the base of him until your pretty plump lips are wrapped around his sack.
you suck it into your mouth just as art takes patrick down his throat, the head of his cock bulging through the hollow of artâs throat as spit stretches and bows from the corners of his lips and lands in globs across your face.
youâre too drunk on the pleasure to care, the vibrations of your little sounds shooting right through patrick until you feel his balls tighten; he groans, long and loud, pushing closer to the pair of you as his cock pulses rhythmically and he releases down artâs throat.
you push your way through until your mouth is on artâs again, tongue licking into his mouth to taste patrick, wanting to be marked, claimed by both of them. his lips part, nose pressing to your cheek, and then heâs lifting you into his lap, his cock an angry red and pressed to the seam of your thigh.
patrick groans. thereâs no fucking way heâs hard again.
âno more, you horndogs!â
#patrick zweig#art donaldson#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig x art donaldson#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson drabble#art donaldson blurb#patrick zweig drabble#patrick x art#art x patrick#art x reader#patrick x reader#writers on tumblr#writer#writing#writing for fun#challengers smut#challengers film#challengers fic#art donaldson fic#patrick zweig fanfiction#challengers fanfiction#art donaldson fanfiction#patrick zweig fic#pat đŸ#art đŸ
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âౚà§ËâĄËàŁȘ bark like you want it !!
á°.á in the world of sports, there's only one thing people care more about than getting hot 'n sweaty with the athletes: the girlies who are the ones these men are running home to. alternatively: a headcanon post about the hyper-specific wag!reader the bllk boys would end up with. ( fem!reader & sfw )
featuring yoichi isagi, reo mikage, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, rin itoshi author's notes since wives and girlfriends is wag + the song has been stuck in my head, i thought 'bark like you want it' was a silly, cute name for the post lol. warning that isagi's section mentions having kids!!!!
ౚৠYOICHI ISAGI â the girl next door !! your dynamic is: the two of you have known each other since childhood, and throughout every stage of his life and career, you've been right by his side. when isagi confesses to you shortly after scoring the winning goal of the u-20 match, he's a blushing, awkward, stuttering mess. despite his newfound fame and notoriety (which will only continue to grow), yoichi isagi is still the same boy you've spent living next door to since your elementary days. when he goes pro and becomes a world famous athlete, surrounded by models and actresses, the only girl to still give him butterflies is you. you love him for him. in every speech he has to give, he's always singing praises about you and your unconditional support and love. the wedding you two have is intimate and fairly private, although isagi can't help but post a picture of the two of you outside the obgyn clinic with the cheesy caption of "my baby is having a baby!!!! đđ"
the girlies love you because: you're what people think of when someone describes someone as being down to earth. your social media presence is nonexistent, save for a private instagram with less than 200 followers. you live your life in peace with a man who doesn't stress you out in the slightest â in fact, your relationship with isagi is aspirational to a lot of people. one of the number one athletes in the world and super hot 'n rich, and the only thought that rivals soccer on his one-track mind is you, his wife that he's hopelessly devoted to. you're always seen at every single one of his games, sporting his jersey, and always cheering happily when he scores. once the two of you have kids, you'll be carrying your baby (who's also sporting isagi's jerseyđ„č) every one of his fans that happens to run into you in public can see why isagi is so in love with you; there are only stories about how kind and sweet you are. it's why you're known as the sweetheart of the soccer wags <3
ౚৠREO MIKAGE â the ceo !! your dynamic is: an arranged marriage... gone right? you belong to a conglomerate family that runs in the same circle as the mikages. you're in the middle of starting up your own beauty brand, and you're trying to make a name for yourself. reo is occupied with his professional soccer career. neither of you want to go through with this marriage interview, but to appease your families, you two agree, not expecting that you two would match each other's freak for real. he's competitive and likes what he can't have; you're little miss independent and equally competitive. he tells you he doesn't mind the engagement, and you get your lawyers to draft a pretty prenup that'll milk him for all he's worth while keeping your assets safe. he buys you a massive engagement ring, and you ask him, "that's the best you can do?" the minute he's in control of mikage corp, he knows he'll gladly let you take the reins.
the girlies love you because: you are the corporate it girl. everyone is obsessed with your paparazzi photos that exude office siren but make it actually work appropriate. there are how-to videos on copying your style. not to mention, you're a businesswoman. every time you attend one of reo's games, you strategically reapply your beauty brand's lipgloss, or tease new products by applying said unreleased products while on camera. someone once asked you in a comment how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? to which you replied @.reomikage how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? just because your man spoils you doesn't mean you put him on a pedestal. princess treatment is the bare minimum for you.
ౚৠSEISHIRO NAGI â the twitch streamer !! your dynamic is: so silly. you're the type of girl who looks good even with pimple patches on your face and your oversized glasses that you only wear because it has blue light blocking lenses on them. you're a well known streamer and got your start during the peak of fortnite (you started off being comically bad at the game, but again: you're a pretty girl. you being good would've just exploded every guys' brains), but once you got your bag secured, you started posting the content you preferred (dress to impress on roblox). everyone loves you because you're hilarious on camera, but you don't really keep up with sports, so when nagi joins your stream, everyone is going insane but you have no clue as to who he is. when they start spamming the chat about him, you ask your viewers "is he hot? no, scratch that. is he rich?" you've always been nagi's online crush & you basically made his whole entire month when you asked him to join you on your instagram live one day. the whole entire time, he's looking at you on the screen with literal hearts in his eyes, and he struggles to fight back his smile. it's so difficult for him to maintain a neutral expression, and this is the most any of his fans have ever heard him speak, and the comments can't stop talking about "how geeked bro is rn"
the girlies love you because: just like isagi's wag, you are a genuine sweetheart. you never hard launch nagi, but you do tease confirmation on your relationship. you'll wear one of his hoodies that people know is his, or sometimes you'll stream when nagi is over and people can see his shoulder in the frame or they'll hear him say something to you to make you laugh. you post pictures of your view of the field, usually captioning it with something like "damn. i could be going crazy on sims 4 rn" you're just such a fun person to watch, and people consider you + nagi to be their comfort couple (although most of the comforting energy comes from you and your antics).
ౚৠRENSUKE KUNIGAMI â the pilates instructor !! your dynamic is: fun and flirty, and straight out of a romcom. you're a well-known pilates instructor and in an attempt to get more girls to garner an interest in the sports channel, the network reaches out to you to see if you want to be in a humorous segment where you try to host a pilates class with some of the pro sports team. these guys are all about bulking and lifting and stamina training, and they don't really hold pilates in a high regard, so the comedy could be there. you obviously agree, and you end up teaching kunigami's team first. he can barely concentrate on the class and fumbles a few times because he's too focused on how good you look in your lululemon hot pink set. he's trying so hard to be respectful, and when you talk to him after the class, thanking him for being one of the only guys to not look down on pilates before they had to endure a session, he's trying so hard to avert his gaze because the sight of you slightly sweaty and in your workout clothes is doing something to him. you love teasing him, and the fact that he's a gentleman and still believes in chivalry makes it all the more fun.
the girlies love you because: besides making working out fun, you feature kunigami in some videos and always tease him by making up and demonstrating some freaky positions that always have him turning red in the face. you're always so considerate and supportive of your followers, and in return, they're always supportive of your own endeavors. when you come out with your own workout line, you put your boyfriend's famous name and hot body to use. he's in your marketing campaign, but honestly, the videos of him looking at you when you're wearing your own workout set is advertisement enough.
ౚৠRIN ITOSHI â the unbothered model !! your dynamic is: centered on the concept of private not secret. neither of you get too personal on social media; you just post aesthetic photos and sponsored content for revolve & rin's socials are managed by a team. like everyone else in the world with decent eyesight, rin's struck by your beauty. unlike most of the guys who are attracted to you, though, rin stands out. for starters, he actually has the confidence to approach you. even better: he's actually polite when he does. normally, the ones bold enough to approach you are bold and loud and kinda sleazy. rin is nothing like that. underneath both yours and his cold exterior, the two of you actually share some of the same niche interests. rin's a pretty intense person on the field and to the public, and there's not a single photo on the internet where you can be seen smiling. the aura the two of you have when paired together is insane... insanely intimidating. he's also the person you're most comfortable with and vice versa. the two of you can be messy and unfiltered and annoying with each other, and no one else.
the girlies love you because: you serve effortless cool girl. at every game you attend to watch rin, not once do the cameras catch you off guard. side profile? stunning. catching your usual neutral expression morph into concern and shock as rin gets shoved by an opponent? you still look insanely good. your hair is always done, nails are always done, your outfits are always fitted and put the other wags to shame. when girls think of iconic partners of athletes, you're always the first on their mind. there are tiktok tutorials that are trying to teach people how to emulate your energy, "[name] outfit inspo", or makeup videos trying to recreate your look. photos of you at rin's game is on every girl's "wag dream life" pinterest board, but the most popular photo is a grainy image someone managed to capture. it's taken after rin's game, and the two of you snuck off to the back of the stadium to be alone. he has his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms are around his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours and... it's the only photo where people have seen either of you smiling.
#blue lock x reader#yoichi isagi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#reo mikage x reader#mikage reo x reader#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#rensuke kunigami x reader#kunigami rensuke x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#blue lock headcanons#fluff#drabble#just something silly for fun hehe
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asking jjk men if you can hold their đ while they pee
Ê incl: geto, gojo, nanami, toji, sukuna, ino
Ê cont: suggestiveness, crack
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àł
#nanas forst smau!!#this was so fun LMAO#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smau#jjk texts#gojo x reader#suguru geto smut#geto smut#gojo smut#toji smut#sukuna smut#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami smut#geto suguru drabble#geto suguru x reader#zenin toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#ino takuma x reader#ino takuma
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader
having this really specific â and kind of goofy â thought about getting a tiny rubber duck as like a joke gift for your boyfriend yuuji, and him making sure itâs turned around whenever you guys fuck in the shower.
youâre having a full blown make out session and the water is hot as it runs down you both â yes, youâre squeezed together that tightly. his pink hair is dripping wet, it sticks to his forehead, and his mouth has formed into this adorable âoâ shape as he pants and stammers and grunts from how good your touch feels as you stroke him.
heâs got one palm pressed against the tiles that youâre leaning against, the other one is cupping your pussy. his fingers lazily circle your clit as his tongue tangles with yours; the tips nudging your warm entrance every so often and gathering the sticky arousal there before it can be washed away by the water because he knows he wonât be able to push that fat cock of his into you otherwise when the time comes for it.
however, when that time does indeed come and you hint at getting slammed, yuuji is pulling back, his honey-coloured eyes suddenly open wide. heâs still breathing like heâs just ran a marathon instead of standing in the shower and his broad chest heaves up and down as he turns his head to the side in one sharp movement; right in the direction of the spot where you both keep your shampoo bottles.
âyuujiâŠ? whatâs wrong?â you ask, eyelids still heavy with lust. it makes your vision somewhat blurry.
âjust a sec,â he rasps, searching amongst the bottles. âgotta make sure we donât have an audience.â
âan audience?â you repeat.
âyep!â he says, popping the p. âi meant this little sucker right⊠here.â
after a little rummaging, he finds the thing heâs been looking for: a small rubber ducky that youâd gotten him months ago as a means to cheer him up after heâd had a particularly bad day.
you watch, brow quirked in quiet amusement, as he carefully flips it around then, making sure it remains in the same exact spot, but this time with its little beak turned towards the shower wall instead of you.
he treats it with such care, like itâs made out of gold instead of plain vinyl. knowing him, he probably does see it that way and it makes you huff a laugh.
heâs just so goddamn endearing, isnât he?
seemingly pleased with his actions, yuuji swiftly focuses his attention back to you. he smiles that beaming lover boy grin that you feel weak in the knees for, and his hands are loving but firm as he grabs you by the hips, silently urging you to press your front against the tiles instead of your back.
âokay, your turn now.â
with how hard he is, something tells you he wonât treat you as gently as he did his present.
#this was fun to think about ok!!!!!!!!!#yuuji x reader#yuji x reader#yuuji smut#yuji smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#biscuit drabbles
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clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...
18+ mdni!
c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious
wc: 1.9k
idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)
some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask
part 1
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Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her. Â
The joyful expression sheâs sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that? Â
âYeah, you got it. Just keep workinâ on it though,â he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guyâs hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafeâs liking. Â Â
âI think you should bend it more here, right? Iâm honestly not too sure,â the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what sheâs doing wrong. Â
âNo cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. Itâs so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,â she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot. Â
âSeriously, I thought this was a beginnerâs class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,â he continues with a shake of his head.Â
âI know, right?â another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether. Â
âEverything alright?â Rafe doesnât mean for his tone to come out so clipped but thereâs something in the way the guyâs touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists.Â
He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he canât just smash his face inâ no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now. Â
âOh, I was just trying to help her with this,â the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled. Â
âWell, why donât you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, sâkinda my job to help her, yeah?â he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology. Â
âDamn, sorry dude,â he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull. Â
A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else. Â
However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.
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Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crackâ allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with.Â
âThatâs crazy, I donât even wanna know what Kie said to that,â she rolls her eyes jokingly while heâs showing her something on his phone. Â
âYeeeah, guess you could say she wasnât the biggest fan,â he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair. Â
âFor some reason Iâm not surprised,â she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. âOh, gotta go so Iâm not late. See you after?âÂ
âYeah, Iâll be here. Think Pope said heâs gonna join me for leg day, so weâll see if Iâm still standing when you get back. But you have fun,â he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms.Â
And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafeâs. âHi,â her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago. Â
âHey,â he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. âSo, that your boyfriend or?â he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because itâs not necessarily any of his business. Â
Heâs not even sure why heâs askingâ keeps telling himself that heâs just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they donât always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious heâll judge them. Therefore, it's something heâs been trying to work on. Â
âWhat? Oh, JJ? No, heâs just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?â she answers with a lighthearted tone. Â
âRight. Yeah,â he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesnât want to overstep any boundaries. However, thereâs something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him.Â
âYou, uh, you got one?â Â
âWhat?â she asks, features coated in confusion.Â
âA boyfriend, I mean,â his gaze is unwavering, eager. Â
âOh, umâ no, I donât. Why?â her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives.Â
âJust, uhâŠwondering. I mean, heâd be kind of a dick if heâs not drivinâ you here himself,â he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response. Â
âYeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,â she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class.Â
âYou donât have your license yet?â he raises his brows in surprise. Â
âNo, I do. I just donât really like driving. I donât know why but itâs so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,â she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.  Â
âOh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?â he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear. Â
âReally? Thatâs so sweet of you! But, um, wouldnât wanna be a bother,â the hesitation is present in her voice. Â
âNah, couldnât bother me if you tried,â he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short. Â
âYouâre just saying that,â she dismisses him with a playful scoff.Â
âMâbeing for real. Youâre my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when youâre always stumblin' on your feet,â he canât help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words.Â
âShut up. Iâm gonna go set down my mat now, before thereâs only space right in front of you,â she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, sheâs tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot.Â
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl whoâs by far the most helpless little bambi heâs ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isnât meant for her. However, heâd never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever heâs near makes him feel physically unwell. Â
Heâs not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasnât caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if sheâs well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all sheâd offered him was a simple smile. Â
And now sheâs right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at himâ practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesnât seem to mind all that much). Â
âYou put this cute little set on just for me, huh?â he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process. Â
âOh, umâ just wanted toâŠtry out some new stuff I ordered. You think itâs cute?â she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes.Â
âMhm. Fits you nice,â he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets itâd be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.
âThanks,â she peeps out, flustered. Â
He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long. Â
âSo, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,â he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can.Â
âLike this?â she seeks reassurance with a soft tone. Â
âYeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,â his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. Sheâs not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks itâs nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to herâ wants him even closer.
She doesnât remember the last time sheâs had such an intense crush on someoneâ slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether heâs merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because heâs actually into her. However, she thinks sheâs embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality. Â
âThen need you to move your right hand here,â he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips. Â
Her head is spinning. Â
âSee? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?â he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it. Â
She hums her response because she doesnât trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.
#for some reason ended up writing this mostly from rafe's pov which i don't usually do but it was pretty fun tbh#yoga instructor!rafe#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx#obx fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#outer banks rafe#rafe au
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âThe first thing you need to know,â the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, âis that these are not unicorns.â
Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.
âYou cannot keep unicorns in captivity,â she continued. âThese are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.â
There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.
âYes?â
âOnly mostly horses?â
It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. âOnly mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. Theyâre large, and reasonably docile.â They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. âFor people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.â
By now she definitely had the whole classâs full attention.
âBut this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.â She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. âLook at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and theyâre relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.â There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.
âWhatâs those hairy ones?â a voice piped up.
âThatâs a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.â Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.
âDo you have any bigger ones?â
The stable master turned around. âWhat was that?â
One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. âDo you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.â
âFeathering,â she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. âWhat exactly do you mean?â
âThereâs really big unicorns,â he pressed. âWith wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!â
âBuddy,â she laughed, âwhat youâre describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.â
The little face fell.
âAny offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.â
She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.
âTell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, Iâll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross weâve just got in from the Netherlands.â
#unicorn#urban fantasy professionals#laura drabbles#I had to get the idea of different types of unicorns out of my head#I am generalising but there are definitely differences between how unicorns were depicted in different countries#this thing did not want to get written and the first draft had a completely different plot#I'll put that on my kofi for fun
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pjo prompt: percy and jason have to go on a quest together, so they both decide to bring their respective partners (annabeth and leo). during the quest, they get kidnapped by monsters and percy and jason wake up in an arena. the monsters explain that they have their partners and in order to save them, they have to fight to the death, with the winner getting to leave alive with their partner, while the other is killed. however, the monsters are very shocked when percy and jason sit down and start calmly playing cards with each other. theyâre not worried about their partners. instead, theyâre worried for the monsters. they trapped annabeth and leo together, two of the smartest demigods. the girl who redesigned olympus and the boy who built a warship in six months. they were toast.
#pjo#percy jackson#jason grace#annabeth chase#leo valdez#percabeth#valgrace#like they could probs take over the world if they wanted (and those two would help)#never leave these two alone for too long they will find a way to defy the laws of the universe just for fun#lowkey kinda wanna write it but too many wips#might start a drabble series just to write like the one scene i want to in long fics I have ideas for#mmmmm we shall see
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âOh, you are nasty,â Iwaizumi almost seethes, his eyes following the condensation on the plastic bottle while it drips down the side, âgrape flavored water?!â
His words catch you off guard, lowering the bottle with a confused look on your face before your eyebrows furrow together more, âYes, Hajime, grape flavored water,â you respond with an eye roll, âis there a problem with me hydrating myself after our run?â
âYou know thereâs perfectly good, normal water in the fridge too, right?â he scoffs, heâs still in disbelief. And itâs not because youâre drinking flavored water, more so because of the flavor of water you chose.
Oh. Now you get it.
âIâm aware of that yes,â you hum, a shit eating grin beginning to form on your face, âbut Iâm also aware that thereâs a whole pack of flavored waters that will be left untouched if I do not drink them, because you canât help a good deal at the grocery store.â
âI would drink them if they were any other flavor!â he protested quickly with a slight pout of his own.
âOh, you are such a liar,â you rebuttal quickly, âname one flavor you enjoy, because I can name about six right now that you donât.âÂ
âI likeâŠâ he thinks for a moment, sucking on his teeth while he roams his brain for an answer, â...I, uhâŠblue raspberry."
You two have had this argument over and over again. Ever since you were teenagers, Iwaizumi has had a certain distaste for actual fruit flavored things. Youâd think an athlete would actually prefer the artificial flavors that at least taste like healthy food, but no.
âNot a water flavor,â you hum cockily, crossing your arms over your chest, âand blue raspberry is nastier than grape by a mile.â
âYou are a sick, twisted individual,â he scoffs, waving his finger at you in playful disappointment, âI am ashamed of myself for letting you get into my pants, let alone my heart for the rest of our lives.â
âOh hush,â you hum amusedly, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck to pull his body flush against yours, âyou said for better or for worse.â
âMm, I also said in sickness and in health,â he responds with his own hum, his arms wrapping around your waist on instinct, âand you are definitely sick in the head for liking flavored water.â
His nose brushes against your own softly for a moment before he connects your lips with his in a tender kiss. A soft groan leaves his throat, unable to stop himself from running his hands along your sides as he deepens the kiss. Before he pulls away with an absolutely disgusted look on his face.
âWhatâŠ?â you ask innocently through bated breath, with a soft giggle and smile.
â...You taste like grape.â
#ËÊâĄÉË love letters from leo#⥠: haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu drabble#haikyuu x gn!reader#hq x reader#hq x gn!reader#hq drabble#hq fluff#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi x gn!reader#iwaizumi fluff#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi hajime fluff#iwaizumi hajime drabble#fun fact: i am also a grape hater#but i hate blue raspberry more#im sorry if you like both these flavors#or if you're like me#iwaizumi drabble
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HEAR ME OUT
âDonât you think Iâm scary?â
âScary? My god youâre divineâ
AHHHHH
FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ đđđ€đ€đđ
I love two lovestruck idiots who donât know theyâre in love w each other and itâs grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever đ»đ»
PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! itâs so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks heâs so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx
fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus heâs whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !
before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.
heâs made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. heâs made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently heâs constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only letâs you have those âextraâsâ that doesnât mean anything.
heâs made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, heâs also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. heâs ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that âhe wouldnât need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.â he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.
and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'
anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.
usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.
but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.
katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.
but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.
you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."
"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.
he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."
"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.
"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.
pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.
he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.
"behave." you squeeze his hand.
"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.
"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.
you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"
"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.
"..how'd you-"
"your mom told me."
he grunts. of course, it was his mom.
that damn hag..
"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.
"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"
"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.
"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.
"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"
"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.
"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.
cool.
you think he looks cool.
"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.
"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.
"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.
"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.
"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.
"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)
he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.
finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.
"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.
"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask
"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.
"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.
untilâ
"OW, fuck !!"
your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, whatâwhy-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!
untilâkatsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.
the. asshole.
"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.
katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"
"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.
"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.
"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.
"i see you laughing."
today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.
#thanks for the ask anon!#it was super fun to write and a fun way to come back from break !#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n
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cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (if you squint), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, some violence (nothing major)
words. 3.3k (this kind of got away from me)
masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9
You donât know how you got here, really.
Actually, you do. And youâre slowly regretting every decision that has led you to this moment by the minute.
But alasâhere you are, watching Bakugou (or rather, his expensive ass sports car) pull over in front of your apartment.
And youâre about to say screw it and go back inside and just text him you donât feel too well as if you werenât just at the front door a second ago when your boss finally steps out of the driverâs seat.
Now youâve seen Bakugou dressed up on numerous occasions. Never as his date or companionâhell, noâbut youâve witnessed him dressed up to the 9âs enough to reach the point of not getting affected at the sight of him in a suit and his hair pushed back.
But you canât help the sudden tightness in your throat when you do see him.
He walks up to the porch and stops a few feet away from you and almost immediately, he gives you a once-over. Despite yourself, you look down at your heeled feet, suddenly feeling overly self-conscious. Or maybe itâs also to stop yourself from staring at him because damn.
And you hate yourself for it.
Itâs his voice, though, that pulls you out of your hazy stupor. âAre you hopping in are we just gonna stand here all night?â
You internally roll your eyes as you follow him to his car, feet already starting to hurt even though you literally just put the heels on a few minutes ago. Youâre about to open the door to the backseat when Bakugou stops you with one hand and opens the door to the passenger side with the other.
You look up at him in question, although you quickly look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and shuffle in. âYou really donât have to doâthatââ he shuts the door, âokay.â
He rounds the hood of his car and settles on his seat soon after. As he brings the engine to life and tinkers with the Bluetooth, you take the opportunity to take in the interior of his car. Needless to say, it is immaculateâthis being the first time youâve ever been here as youâve always declined any offer from him to drive you home.
Why is that?
Youâd chalk it up to feeling uncomfortable about your boss giving you a lift, especially as the HR head, but deep inside you know itâs more because being in a small space with him (alone, especially) makes you just a tad bit crazy.
Just a bit.
Since when has this been a thing?
Shrugging off the rather unsettling thought, you intentionally bring your mind to other things, like how nice the car smellsâor how your hair and makeup ended up exceeding your expectations. Youâre in the middle of appreciating how smooth Bakugouâs driving is when it hits you like a ton of bricks.
âHold upââ you turn to him in horror, âyouâre not seeing anyone, are you?â
At that, Bakugouâs face contorts in what you think is offense before it morphs into a snark expression, like heâs about to retort with a playful quip but decides against it last minute.
âNo.â
Before you can stop yourself, you slump against your seat, relieved. You canât believe you forgot to ask about this crucial piece of information prior to agreeing to this ruse.
A foreign kind of curiosityâthe type that you havenât felt in a whileâsuddenly takes seed and blooms in you, particularly about Bakugou and his romantic life. But you quickly tamp it down before you blurt out a wildly inappropriate personal question to your boss.
The second Bakugou puts the car in park, you hurriedly climb out of the passenger seat, not minding how ungraceful you look, desperate to get out of the small bubble youâve found yourself sharing with your boss for the last hour.
Quickly scanning your surroundings, you find that there arenât many people in the parking lotâperhaps itâs because of the fact that youâre cutting it close, which was totally not a conscious decision so that youâd spend the least amount of time at the wedding as possibleâbut as you two walk in silence towards the venue entrance, you start noticing it.
You feel people holding their gazes directed towards the both of you a little longer than normal. You try to shrug it off, but even as you state your name to the kind-looking lady who you believe is assigned to usher guests to their seats, youâre acutely aware that a silence has befallen upon the room and itâs your arrival that has caused it.
And youâd bet good money you saw in your peripheral vision a few do a double-take upon seeing you.
The lady doesnât even try to hide her shock upon seeing the number two pro-hero. Eyes wide as saucers, she barely stammers out his pro-hero name in what you believe is aâŠquestion?
Bakugou, the ever-skilled PR prince that he is, merely gives her a curt and somehow pained nod, as if this exchange is yards beneath him. âThatâs me. My nameâs probably not on the list, though,â he gestures to you, âIâm just her plus one.â
With that, itâs as if the lady just got reminded that you were standing just right beside him and that you existed.
âOh, of course!â Her eyes dart toward you and then back at him and suddenly her eyeballs are akin to that of the toy in a pinball machineâdarting between the two of you in record speed, the gears in her head turning as if processing what the fuck this lowly guest is doing, showing up with the Dynamight to a wedding.
âSorry,â she chuckles, probably feeling self-conscious in front of the man, âwhat was your name again?â
You repeat yourself with the most gracious smile you can muster. You canât blame the woman for slightly losing her cool in front of the boss. The only reason youâre not stumbling and embarrassing yourself in front of him is because youâve had practice.
In fact, three years and eight months worth of it.
But that practice practically flies out the window when you feel something brush against your right hand before encasing it entirely.
You look down at the point of sensation and it takes everything in you not to gawk at the sight of Bakugouâs big, firm hand wrapped around yours. You immediately whip your head to look up at him, but the guy isnât even looking at you. Instead, he seems to be listening intently to what the lady is saying thatâs a hundred percent going in one of your ears and out the other.
ââŠf-follow meâright this way, p-please!â
You stumble behind him as he leads you to where the lady is directing the both of you, hands still interlocked.
âWhat are you doing?â you hiss-whisper, keeping your voice low enough to make sure she doesnât hear you panic.
âIâm saving your life, dumbass,â he hisses back.
Saving your life? The man is giving you a damn heart attack. And making you the target of the thousands of news outlets known to man.
âOh, do tell me how thatâs so?â
Although you canât see his face as heâs practically dragging you forward by your now clammy appendage, youâre 99% sure heâs rolling his eyes. âItâs âcause people are fucking staring.â
âSo naturally you have to hold my hand?â
He halts to an immediate stop and you almost collide with his backside if not for your marginally quick enough reflexes. He scowls at you over his shoulder and it shocks you to see how red heâs gotten over a reasonable question from your end.
Itâs not like you just asked him why heâs number two or something.
âYes, I do, if we want a shot at making this the slightest bit believable.â
Before you even get the chance to respond (that is, grumble at him like a petulant child because the motherfucker is making senseâlike he always is), you get interrupted.
âIs everything alright?â
Both of you quickly face the lady who you find is trying not to let the concern get to her already wobbly smile.
Sheâs failing.
âYeah!â
âYup.â
At that, she nods, although she seems to be suspiciousâhesitant, at best. âWell, thenâthese are your seats. Enjoy the wedding!â
The ceremony couldnât have been more dragged out if they tried. They probably had a dozen technical difficulties. The flower girls who were literal toddlers refused to walk down the aisle and had to be hauled by their parents to get it done and over with. The officiator was so irritatingly loud that he didnât even need a microphone from the sheer volume of his booming voice. And you could tell he was going over the time limit because the wedding coordinators at the perimeters of the venue were getting more and more antsy by the minute.
Bakugou, who was seated on your right, was not fairing any better. You lost count of the times his head bobbed toward you as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Heâs been sleep-deprived the entire weekâyou knew that. A notorious villain has recently resurfaced and he and Kirishima were the policeâs primary contacts for this case. Suddenly feeling guilty for having inadvertently dragged him to this snoozefest with you, you debated whether or not to tell him he can rest on your shoulder so he can get some rest but immediately decided against it because what the fuck.
Eventually, and miraculously, you get past the ceremony relatively unscathed. Well, as far as unscathed in this situation can get.
You managed to avoid your exâs sights the entire time. Luckily, you and Bakugou were assigned at a far-away table alongside distant friends and relativesâcourtesy of the bride, probably, and really, you couldnât be more thankful. By the time picture-taking per table rolled around, you conveniently excused yourself to the bathroom and waited it out until you were sure your groupâs time was up. When you sheepishly walked back to your table, Bakugou didnât seem to be too comfortable, probably from having been left alone, but from the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew what you were doing and why you did it. Despite his appearances, heâs perceptive like that.
With only a few, necessary words exchanged between the two of you, and the occasional smiles and affectionate behavior whenever either of you felt prying eyes, you eventually find yourself finally loosening up and relaxing.
In contrast to the past few hours in which you were evidently tense and barely managed to join in on small talk around you, youâre now actually conversing with your table-mates who, thankfully, havenât asked you how you were related to the bride and groom.
Bakugou probably notices this change in demeanor because you spot him eyeing you with a serious look on his face before cooly looking away as if you didnât just catch him studying you.
Before you can think much of the expression on his face, the young woman seated across from you who youâve gotten to know as Kairi says your name, effectively snapping you out of thought.
Right before dousing you with ice water with a supposedly innocent question.
âSorryâwhat?â
She chuckles harmlessly, paying no mind to your reaction. âI said, how do you know the bride and the groom?â
Shit.
âIâuh,â against your will, you chance a look at Bakugou whoâs already looking at you with a seemingly neutral expression, although youâve been around him long enough to see the traces of panic adorning his features.
A few more seconds pass by in silence before you decide to just tell the truth.
You laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. âIâm actually an ex-girlfriendâŠâ
Unsurprisingly, everyone at the table goes quiet at your admission, before they seemingly remember to put up appearances by laughing good-naturedly with you.
âWell, good on you for showing up!â Kairi says, giving you a thumbs up. The rest of the group pack on their agreement and support. She eyes Bakugou with a mischievous grin, âAnd with precious cargo, too.â
Her friends elbow her in chastisement, and you canât help the flush that takes over your face at her unabashed flirting. You chance a glance at the man in question, only to find him acting like he couldnât give a single fuck.
Youâre about to pipe up with a genuine compliment in Bakugouâs way, lest they end up thinking you donât agree that âyour manâ is fine as fuck (and isnât this the part where a person is supposed to brag about their partner?) when a silence befalls upon your table again.
Only this time is more awkward than the last.
âWhat..?â
You follow Kairiâs line of vision and turn to look at the thing behind you thatâs caught their attention only to find yourself face-to-face with him.
He exclaims your nameâlike heâs delighted to see youâbefore scooping you up and bringing you into his arms.
You collide with his chest with an unceremonious âoofâ and despite yourself, you toss Bakugou a look (cry) for help over the guyâs shoulder.
And like the hero that he is, Bakugou stands up smoothly, buttoning his suit all the while.
Clearing his throat, he shoots your ex a stony glare while offering a hand to shake. âGood to meet âya. Iâm Bakugou, her boyfriend.â
A whirlwind of emotions dances across the guyâs face before they finally settle into one that causes scalding shame to stir within your gut: utter disbelief.
âMy bunny got herself a boyfriend?â You cringe at the sound of your old pet name, and Bakugouâs glare turns even colder at the mention of it. You try to ignore the hurt thatâs springing in your chest at your exâs incredulous tone.
The guyâs eyes dart between the two of you before they finally settle on your boss. âAnd that person is you?â
As if he couldnât get higher on the asshole meter, your ex drops his head back as he howls in laughter, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever. You feel your face flame in humiliation, and itâs as if you get possessed for the next few seconds.
Because in the blink of an eye, you find yourself clenching your fist so hard and bringing it up to the assholeâs face, where it collides with his jaw with a loud crack.
Almost instantaneously, you recoil and bring your hand back to yourself because that shit hurt, and fuck, you just punched a guy.
At his wedding.
You donât know what comes over you because the first thing you do is not apologize to the guy whoâs writhing in pain on the floor or look at the people who are most probably already watching the scene. No, the first thing you do is whip to look at Bakugou, whoâs now grinning at you.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab your purse with one hand, Bakugouâs hand with the other, and toss your dickhead of an ex a âhave a great rest of your weddingâ before beelining out of there and straight to the car of the man whose hand youâre holding.
âIââ
âNope.â
âYouââ
âNo.â
âJustââ
âShut the fuck up, Bakugou.â
At your crass words, Bakugou takes his eyes off the road to look at you in amused disbelief (or, at least you think soâyouâre only looking at the man through your periphery; youâre too embarrassed to meet anyoneâs eyes right now).
âWoah, there, princess,â you can hear him smirking. âNot sure thatâs how you want to talk to your boss.â
âOh, bullshit,â you fix your gaze to your right, itching to get out of the car. âI thought you were my date tonight. You canât be both at the same time. Thatâthat just doesnât sit right with me. You know, as the HR head of your agency?â
The man merely snickers in response, and youâre lulled into a comfortable silence.
Before he decides to speak again.
ââHave a great rest of your wedding,ââ he chuckles to himself as he stops at a red light. âClassic.â
You turn to regard him, having had enough. âDo you mind? Iâm kind of having a crisis here.â
At that, he snorts. âOver what? You just had the best payback in history.â
You ignore him, opting to bury your face in your hands instead as you wail, âI punched a guy at his wedding.â
âDamn straight, you did.â
You gape at him like he just grew horns. âIâm sorry, were you not there? In case you forgot, Mr. Dynamight, you were technically my date. Youâre guilty by association.â
Just as he is about to respond, the traffic light quickly turns to yellow then green, and you take it as an opportunity to keep rambling.
âAnd practically everyone there knows you. Shit, Mikuri-san is going to kill me.â
âTadashi Mikuri? From PR?â
âYes,â you seethe, although you know Bakugou has done nothing wrong to be at the receiving end of your shame-induced anger. You groan, âThis is going to be a nightmare to clean up.â
Bakugou doesnât say anything after that, and you have to restrain yourself from poking at him to say anythingâanything, reallyâto assure you that no, everything is going to be okay, and that no, your career or reputation is not over.
Eventually, and without you noticing, you pull up in the driveway of your apartment. Heaving a deep sigh, you will yourself to finally keep your chin up and face whatever the fuck is waiting for you tomorrow head-on, even if you were going to do it alone. Grabbing your purse and phone, youâre about to thank him and say good night when Bakugou reaches over the console and places a hand over yours.
âIââ he starts, and you look at him expectantly, trying not to seem weird about the contact.
He clears his throat before giving you the most reassuring nod, âIâll take care of the press. Donât worry about it.â
Before you can ask him how the hell heâs planning to go about that, he beats you to it. âAnd donât ask me how. Justââ he finally looks at you, âtrust me.â
You canât bring yourself to do anything but nod back.
The next morning, you wake up on the relatively right side of the bed for once until the events of yesterday come crashing down on you like an unprecedented avalanche, effectively robbing you of your good mood.
You chance a peek at the phone on your nightstand, debating whether or not to throw it away and religiously avoid social media for the rest of your days. After what feels like an hour, however, you decide against it and pick the gadget up.
Only to be met with 57 texts, 23 missed calls, and 300+ notifications on your Twitter and Instagram accounts each.
Your stomach sinks as the feeling of dread instantly washes over you. Overwhelmed, you click on one familiar message thread you have with your best friend.
(11:46 PM) bestie<3: girlllll (11:46 PM) bestie<3: what the actual FUCK pick up your phone (11:47 PM) bestie<3: NOT YOU PUNCHING THAT DOUCHEBAG (11:47 PM) bestie<3: and since when have you been dating dynamight??? HELLOOOO??? (11:47 PM) bestie<3: when were you planning to tell me all of this bc im lowkey salty (11:51 PM) bestie<3: girlâŠ. you have to see this (11:51 PM) bestie<3: (see link)
Your fingers are practically trembling when you click on the link, and in hindsight, youâre glad youâre on your bed because what you see next makes you drop your phone:
BREAKING: #2 Pro-hero Dynamight seen at a wedding, alleged âdateâ punches the groom
tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble
Ëâșâ§â as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a lovely day!
#can you tell i was never good at journalism#bc wtf is that headline LMAOOOO#this got so long but this was so fun to write#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n
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(A/N: prt 4 and the finale of the Mama Riley au! Thanks for all the support and nice comments. It means the world to me! No content warnings. Enjoy!!)
If the ground would swallow him whole, Simon would consider that a blessing. God, he never should've asked his mom about you. Of course she'd clock him. Who knows the man better than his own mom?
He stares blankly at you for far too long. Long enough that you're wondering if there was a chance Mama Riley had it all wrong. You open your mouth, ready to backtrack the statement, when Simon settles a hand on your thigh.
âI⊠yeah. It's true,â he answers you. He tells you it's fine if you don't feel the same. You were his mom's friend first, and he can see how deeply you care about her and vice versa. He wants his mom to be happy.
âWhat about what you want?â You ask, curious.
Simon's quiet for a moment, thinking. He wants to marry you, but that might be a bit much to admit right out the gate. So he gathers his nerves, and quietly admits, âI want to kiss you.â
You can't help but smile in response. You lean in a little closer to him, your eyes already half lidded. âI want you to kiss me,â you reply softly.
The kiss is a little awkward. It takes Simon a second to get comfortable in the kiss, but it's good once he does. (You find out later on that it's his second kiss.) His hands come to cradle your face, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. That's when the kiss becomes perfect, the kind that makes your head spin.
You break away at the sound of the door opening. Simon's hands linger in your face for a moment longer, before he drops them back down to his sides. But you're quick to lace your fingers with his, more than eager to start displaying affection. You've been holding back for far too long.
Mama Riley smiles at the both of you, a coffee in hand. âYou kids get your feelings worked out?â She teases.
You and Simon share a look, before responding simultaneously.
âYes, ma'am.â
âYeah, Mum.â
Going to sleep that night is incredibly bittersweet. You two finally made progress, just barely started your relationship, and he's leaving in the morning. Simon has never hated his job more than now. He's waited, since the day y'all met, for this, and he doesn't feel like he even has a chance to enjoy it.
But it makes returning, two months later, all the more worth it. This isn't the first time you've gone with Mama Riley to pick him up, but this time is different. There's no fanfare, no balloons or signs, although you and Mama Riley had joked about it. But there is a new energy in the air, excitement to see your boyfriend.
He's easy to spot amongst the crowd, tall and imposing. But you see the way his shoulders sag with relief, when he spots you two. He greets his mom first, crushing her in a hug. There's some whispered words between the two of them, before Simon turns his attention to you.
He hesitates, before tugging his face mask down. âCan I kiss you?â
You can't help but giggle a little, nodding your head. His hands move to cradle your face, so gentle despite the horrors he's witnessed. And when your lips meet his, Simon decides there's no better way to welcome him home.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#my writing#mama riley au#i had a lot fun writing this and im blown away by all the positive feedback!! you guys are so nice â€#there will probably be more little drabbles about this later but for now this is it! thanks for following along!#now im going to go play the sims 4 and listen to mother mother. love ya! đ
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youâre an angel, iâm a dog â a.donaldson
pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader
warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not betaâd (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl
a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?đ«ą) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox đ„ <3
older!art is fucking obsessed with youâ you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.
youâre forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.
tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesnât care â youâve made art better at tennis.
his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, heâs more relaxed.
youâre whatâs been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.
an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.
he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.
when tashi asks you to join artâs team officially, you almost keel over.
âlook, i donât care that heâs fucking you⊠or that heâs in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.â she says. youâre quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.
âheâs in love with me?â
she scoffs. âyouâve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time youâre in the same room as him.â she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.
âyou two can have your funâ but he has to win this year.â
artâs perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.
fucking smitten.
tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.
âgo on.â
he opens his arms in greeting and youâre quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.
âlove you.â he murmurs into your skin.
âlove you more.â
he could cry; he doesnât remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. youâre obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.
at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.
he wins.
how could he not with his pretty girl watching?
and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you wonât be forgetting anytime soon.
so, yeah. maybe this life isnât so bad, after all.
#mine#my writing!#art x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson x tashi duncan#art donaldson drabble#art donaldson blurb#art donaldson fic#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson fanfiction#challengers movie#challengers#challengers fic#challengers film#challengers fanfiction#tashi duncan x reader#tashi duncan x you#art x tashi x reader#writer#writers on tumblr#writing#writing for fun#writing fanfic#smut writing#fluff writing#writing for myself#art đŸ
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Tim, [pointing his staff at the human traffickers]: YOU ARE OUTGUNNED
Jason, [hyping him up]: WHAT?
Tim: OUTMANNED!
Jason: WHAT?!
Tim: OUTNUMBERED OUTPLANNED
Jason: PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!
Tim: PUT YOUR GUNS DOWN ON MY COMMAND
Jason: HAND EM OVER!!
Tim: THIS IS HAMILTON MY RIGHT HAND MAN!
Jason, [getting his guns out]: PWO PWO PWO PWO PWO-
Goons: *shaking* what the FUCK are Batman feeding his partners--
#tim drake#jason todd#dc#batbros#suki drabbles#jason and tim have monthly musical reenactment nights#duke and steph come by as well sometimes#duke slays as angelica#damian sees tim jason and duke act out candy store and bully bruce#needless to say dami hides from them whenever its 'that' time#dick wanted to join them too#jason & tim: sorry but its MIDDLE CHILD only privileges <3#dick: :(#cass may not be able to say she means sometimes but she supports them nonetheless ^_^#and by that it means she has fun wrestling w her siblings whenever theres a fight scene#alfred is quietly cheering them on bcos you cannot tell me alfred wasn't a theatre kid#bruce wants join but is too emotionally incompetent to ask#batfam
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â â âPRETTY BOY.â
â expect the worst when whitney has a stupidly, dumb puppy love crush on his upperclassman that happens to be you and even more so, when you predictably take notice of it. but, rememberâ he asked for it first, didnât he? 3.5k w.
â warnings? yeah, mildly dub-con, handjob in broad fucking daylight, somewhat exhibitionism although no one gets to see the stupid, pretty boy squirm and upperclassman male reader whoâs sort of.. a bitch. yâknow the drill by now, plus a younger whitney (still an adult, no worries. Iâm not into that sorta shit.)
Like a clueless moth instinctually drawn towards a burning flame, heâs no goddamn different than the clingy idiots who canât seem to automatically take a hint when given so in their directionâ yâknow, the ones heâd audibly snicker and scoff at due to the sheer embarrassment, disgustingly obvious puppy love streaked along their flushed faces as they mindlessly follow the otherâs every move. Innocently peer up in search of their crushâs approval like some sort of brain dead dog whose sole purpose is to joyfully please their master. Hell, itâs gross, and the blonde doesnât make it any more difficult to showcase his wrongly placed dislike for itâ yeah, by the repeated gagging noises spilling forth from his open maw.
âItâs nauseating to watch, stinks up the whole room with those big, puppy, doe eyesââ heâd openly say with an absent shrug of his broad shoulders, glinting, barely visible glimpse of the metallic barbell freshly pierced upon his curved tongue proving his judgemental statements to be otherwise.. fuckinâ hypocritical, no? âCuz, isnât that same piercing found in his mouth done due to one, single, stray comment you aimlessly made by chance?
Not like your liking of things plays a grand role in whatever he does, trouble heâs immediately roped into, fuckâ no, definitely not! Itâs a stupid, damn coincidence is what it is, nothing more and nothing less either. No need to uselessly pry any further in the meaning of his baseless actions. Just.. happened to have it done on the same consequential day you confidently expressed your idea that heâd get one becauseâ yâa said itâd look good on him, didnât you? And, look here, he fuckinâ did it like some cheap mutt. Obediently parted his rosy lips for your viewing pleasure to willingly prove to your pretty eyes that he truly went along with your absently made suggestion, for real. Gleefully hung upon your every important word like his life depended on itâ god, it isnât like that, okay?
An upperclassman heâs briefly looked up to is all you are, all youâve ever been for that matter, and heâll punch the shitty, fuckinâ lights out of any big mouthed idiot who dares to say so otherwise. Right in the guts for spouting out complete, nonsensical bullshit, alright?
Or is it time to reluctantly admit it with a bashful blush apparent upon his contorted featuresâ accompanied by gritting teeth stubbornly grinding together in a futile refusal of his shoddy, unwanted sentiments burrowed deep within his stuttering heart? As if heâd ever would in your presence, which he possibly canât help himself, to childishly imitate your gestures in the withering hopes thatâd you scarcely notice his thinly veiled efforts, acts filled with meaning.
Well, well.. Whitney, the supposedly cold and untouchable bully here isnât so unique nor different from those idiotic dumbasses heâd routinely poke fun at, huh? Time to face the embarrassingly evident reality set before him, whether his gaze dares to instinctively stray away or not from the unsettling truthâ ah, good thing youâre here to seamlessly guide him on the right path, ainât that right?
As for the so-called, morally ethical path heâs hopelessly talking about.. Perhaps, thatâs a plain, olâ lie heâll repeatedly tell himself of so considering your shared reputations at hand. More likely than not, often referred to â as much as the nickname itself has the tip of his ears prickling scarlet, noisily yelling at the fuckers who cheekily name him that â your little, dumb puppy. Fuck, heâs not! The day he, himself, Whitney of all people, wordlessly bows down to the height of someoneâs heel frustratingly grinding atop of his head, is the day one can loudly claim with unbridled conviction, that heâs officially lost his goddammit mind, thatâs what.
Listen, youâre the one who faithfully promised and guaranteed your unwavering protection if he stuck to your sides like some fuzzy pet, so he did the obvious choice. Specially when met with the shitty conditions this rundown town, definitely shady for that matter, is. Rather be silently stamped as the âsly followerâ who went along with the smartest choice presented to âemâ your offer, by the way â than some nobody seamlessly forgotten on the dirtied streets. Least, thatâs what likely replays on and on in his mind like some cheap, broken record to dumbly convince his unmoving mind of what this annoyingly persistent feeling is deep within the pit of his quivering tummy. Annoying, ainât it?
Speakinâ of tummy, you sure are touchy-feeling with him, arenât ya? Not that he necessarily minds nor will outwardly admit the slightest shivers that comes to grace the entirety of his figure when met with the briefest grazes of your fingertips flush against his bare skin. Likes the physical contact intimately shared between you two? Fuck noâ just keeping himself on your good side in case you were to suddenly discard him like you habitually do with your other.. nameless toys, which he doesnât possess enough fucks to bother learning their names. As long as your flickering gaze doesnât happen to stray too far from his, heâs actually, pretty content.
âCourse, it did progressively start off with the sorta things youâd absentmindedly do with your numerous friends. Brush of his golden strands glimmering against the gleaming sunlightâ shit, even acted out like some cheesy rom-com at the way his face instantly heated up, glimpse of vulnerability you seem to so easily catch on with him and fuck, does he detests itâ truly does like no other. Still, lets yâa carelessly stroke your fingers throughout the mess of a hairstyle the delinquent wears, even fucking.. tenderly pushed a single, stray strand of hair behind his burning ear. Shoulders instinctively drawn up in sheer defence at the tension residing within him because, really, how do yâa expect him to relax and ease up when itâs with you?
âWhat? What is it? Do I have shit in my hair or somethinâ?â Oh yeah, nice goinâ on that fuckinâ stupid question of his, huh? Flush adorning the length of his faceâ god, even down towards his neck tooâ immediately deepening at the crude choice of words. Might casually speak so with anyone, but when it comes to you, heâs got this instinctual urge to not come off as some try-hard desperately trying to butter you up in hopes of your returned approval of him.
âHm? Itâs nothing, I just think youâd look cute if you grew out your hair a little bit. Donât you think?â Ah, and there you goâ with your surprising compliments spoken out of the blue like that.
âCute?? Are you seriously tryna fuck with me right now?â Defensive mechanism or whatever to draw up that blank conclusion since this is just about the first time any sort of adjective resembling that of âadorableâ by the way, couldâve been made to plainly describe a rowdy, unrelenting boy such as Whitney.
âWhat? You donât think so? I think youâre cute as shit, Ney-ney.â That fuckinâ nickname again, god. Quit it, will ya? And, donât try to tentatively lean closer in his personal space when calmly making that stupid remark too! Your goddamnâ ah, hot breath effortlessly heating up the shell of his ear, curled lips almost, insistently pressed against his cheek. âReal fucking cute, actually. Definitely cuter than the average boy thatâs for sureâ prettier too, but youâve got too much of a stick up your ass to admit that, donât you?â
At this point, youâre practically taunting him, and he wouldâve unabashedly swung his fist if it werenât for that said person being you. Grin cracking upon your lips at the doe, wide-eyed look heâs greeting you with, seemingly unable to utter so much as a word to that uncharacteristically depraved statement, or is that your idea of a damn compliment to another guy? Shit, thatâs right! Both guys is what you two areâ so, his cock hidden underneath the fabric of his ripped jeans, languish legs lazily stretched out along the creaking, wooden bench, shouldnât be stirring up with peeked interest at the mind numbing prospect of endlessly being called âprettyâ by you. Nor profusely encouraging the alarming amount of translucent pre-cum dizzyingly forming at the swollen tip of his cock head, crudely staining the material sheer. Give the blonde a supportive head pat while youâre at it, too. Ah.. should be saying somethinâ right about now lest he wants to appear as some bashful fool.
âI donâtââ
âYeah, yeah. You donât swing that way, I know. Iâm not hitting on you, Iâm just telling the truth as it is. Got any idea how many guys would line up just to fuck your dirty mouth? Maybe your tits too, if theyâre into that sorta stuffâ shit, I think theyâd go for the ass too, definitely. I could make a goddamn fortune just whoring out your pretty, slutty body to the old fucks at the pub, yâknow that, Whit?â Endless chattering on and on, explicit details of how some grubby old men could be here, disgustingly groping his flesh instead. Yet, that lingering glimmer within your gaze, noticeably darkening in return at the mere idea of it as your thumb comes forth to idly tap at his blazing cheek.
âBut, you know.. I donât. I wonât. Not cuzâ Iâm a nice guy or anythingâ hah, truthfully, Iâm no better than them for wanting to ruin a pretty face like yours.â Youâre.. god, he canât keep up with whatever shit youâre nonchalantly spouting, gracing solely his ears to be the one to silently listen to this.. crap, canât really say itâ fluttering in his tensed stomach from your bold admission, depraved wants just as much as he does late at nightsâ wanting to fuck him too.
âHonestly, do you know why I donât use your sorry fuckinâ ass, Whitney?â
If heâs meant to attentively keep up with your words by now, then his brain has happily shut off due to the dizzying amount of semi-insults, degration and somewhat praise shot in his way. Like heâd fucking know, shit!
âSee, itâs cuzâ itâs real funny to watch you trotting âround my side like some dumb, fucking puppy begging for its ownerâs attention. I give you just a bit of praise, and your doggy tail would start wagging if you even had one. You look so goddamn stupid that itâd hurt my conscience to sell you out like this. And, I donât like it when other fucks touch whatâs mine either. Iâm not running some gracious charity, am I?â To be truthful, if you tirelessly keep up with that incessant spouting, heâs bound to boil over like some screeching, burning kettle considering.. the obscene amount of scorching heat riddled across his features currently, adorning his cheeks so stupidly â and prettily too, huhâ crimson red for your unwavering gaze solely. Seems like youâre liking the rare show in front of you quite a bit, arenât you?
Stunned wouldâve been one of the few lacking words remaining in the thick, daunting dictionary to scarcely describe the absolutely idiotic expression heâs nicely sporting right about now.
âShut up.. Iâm notââ Fuck, fuck, fuck!! And, how the simple concept of verbal speech dutifully fails the bully at a time like this. Great going there, fuckinâ dumbass! Visibly seething wouldâve been the most reasonable reaction in face of this, butâ butâ fuck! Entirety of this crap is all too quick for his sluggish mind to steadily keep up with your unpredictable actions, pathetically keening with a drawled out curseâ no, more like a high-pitched whine is what it truly sounds like, once your calloused palm gingerly strips him free from his relatively loose jeans in one fell swoop.
âWhat the fuckâre you doinââ?? Mmph, fuck.. donâtââ Dumb question to be asking when the self-evident answer is plainly in front of him.
Weeping cock, flushed in the cooling, outside air, naturally springing forth out of its constricting confines to audibly slap against his bare rigid tummy. Aw, now ainât that real pretty to witness? Timid, twitching cock profusely leaking out sticky pre to messily smear along the curve of the blondeâs stomach, which you promptly do the honours for him, unabashedly too.
Always been pretty confident in your audacity to joyfully serve people, havenât you? By god, heâs half-hated ya for meddling with others private businesses to begin with, although his throbbing cock being so smoothly tended to can say otherwise, idly disagree with his withering logic. Shakily sighing, puffing out heated huffs of air as your soâ fuck.. annoyingly warm and soft hand loosely tucks âround his fat cock, teasingly squeezes him down at the base. Meanly drawing out more pearly globs of his dribbling pre-cum with a resounding, wet squelch!, undeniable proof of his shared arousal at the newfound situation heâs unfortunately finding himself in.
âUnfortunatelyââ one says, funny that you see right through that by the mocking nature of your barking laughter, sharply ringing within his ears.
âMy, whoâs the exact fucking pervert here, Whit? Yâseem pretty hard to me. Actually, youâre dripping wet down there, yâknow that?â No fucking shit. Ready to single-handily cum from a single, measly stroke of your fist snugly wrapped around the veiny girth of his quivering lengthâ fucking hell. Head instinctively thrown back to which you soon wistfully take advantage of, âcourse you would, wouldnât you? Lazily pressing hot, heated kisses along the sharp edges of his jawline that soon has the same bully, known to be so very resistant, stifling wanton moans, firmly clasping a palm over his gaping mouth in a heedless effort to remain discreet as possible. Slithering, pink tongue laving and tracing over the heated shell of his ear, ushered snickering coupled by bouts of utter filth being so brazenly whispered towards him. And your caninesâ ah, are not helping at all either. Grazing the bobbing curve of his throat, delicately sucking a bruising mark upon the tanned skin to pridefully admire over later. âNnhâ no, fuâ ah, uuckk! N-Not there, you bastard!!â
âNot here? Whatâs the matter, Ney-Ney? Canât fucking speak properly when your pretty, pink cock is being stroked off like this?â Wouldâve scornfully refuted you, barked out the meanest curses that wouldâve had an elderly woman shockingly clutch her pearls if given the chance, but stealing a discreet glance down to humiliatingly witness how sticky and wet his tip has gotten, messily stained your palm in a string of creamy, white pre is not.. Possessing way too much pride to do so. âYâsee, you like thisâ hah, fuckâ you like it when I actually take what I fucking want from you and ruin you down to this cute, little, slutty mess, yeah?â
âI-Itâs not like thatââ Uncharacteristically meek protest on his part. Cat got his tongue, âs that it?
âNo? Pretty boy. Use your words, will you?â Oh, fuuuuckkinâ god. Seeing sheer darkness as his eyes reflexively roll backwards to his skull from casually being called âprettyâ by your lulling voice.
Have any idea the way your hushed words dizzyingly affects his fuzzy brain? Renders him alarmingly stiff like a stoned statue, wobbling knees surely bound to buckle beneath the weight of your relentless taunting, all the while being boldly jerked off in broad, fucking daylight â hidden amongst the rustling bushes of the park, mind you â still, very much in an open space where one can be so easily seen by oncoming passerbys. And even then, the absolute control you possess over him, sneakily snaking your arm âround his middle, relishing in the little, heated gasps hurriedly rushed out of this dirty, fucking perverted bitch of a blondeâs mouth is too way goddamn much for him to precariously withstand another tortuously long second of this shit.
Yeah, one more minute? Heâs fucking busting by then.
âWhatâs the matter? Canât keep up? Gonâ shoot your filthy load soon, âs that it?â Mild disinterest lacing your very tone with a slight hint of, whatâs that..? Actual anticipation? Hah, as if he can barely discern between the mind buzzing layer of reality set upon him when coupled by your softâ so fucking warm, shit.. hand relentlessly fisting him dry, milking every thick droplet steadily trickling forth. Uncaring for the accumulated mess below you both as his hips instinctually roll forward against the rewarding palm of your curled fist, sickeningly jolts at a noticeably harsh press of your padded thumb atop his oozing tip. âWell, then.. Go ahead, Iâm not stopping you, am I?â
âCmon, pretty. Paint my hand all sticky and nice for me, yeah?â
Predictably so, as the uttered rumours had notably confirmedâ how downright desperate Whitneyâs always apparently been for you to the damn point that heâs automatically cumming on command like a dog patiently withholding for its ownerâs words and oh, was it fucking worth the extensive wait. Stifled whimper weakly slipping out, fingers immediately latching onto the comforting feel of your forearm lazily slung around his quivering figure for proper support. No use in making a fool out of himself by clumsily buckling down to his slacked kneesâ not that he hasnât already, though too late to be thinking about it twice, huh? Thick, sticky strings of his hot seed directly shot out of his pulsing cock and into the air to, as expected, pervertedly dirty your open hand in a mess of his load which is kinda.. hot, no? Fuckinâ get ahold of yourself, shit! Minus the rest having uncontrollably splattered downwards onto the ground, pitifully traced in a puddled mess of droplets.
And somehow, the barely discernible hint of a relieved breath tumbling from between his parted lips. The natural conclusion that this is it, oncoming closure bound to take its place yet stillâ still, damn it; Always managed to keep the dirtied blonde on the edge of his toes, havenât you?
So, truly, it shouldnât have came off as an unexpected shock then, how you so brazenly mumble a stuttered curse beneath your puffed sighs at the melting sight. âAh, fuck.â Swiftly freeing your fatâ well, admittedly hefty cock for his following eyes to shamelessly gawk at in turn because, yâknow.. fuck, he wonât outright voice it, but the sinful glimmer in his wide gaze says it all. Innate itch, unadulterated needâ god, to merely sling down to his knees, sloppily drool all over your tasty-looking cock and coat it all shiny and wet with his spit. Although, too busy admiring the rare glimpse of your contorted features strained with pure, unrestrained concentration to bother paying much attention to the repeated, distinct fapping! noises of your cock being so hurriedly stroked raw, as if in a hurry, almost.
Furrowed brows deepening, lashes fluttering in their wake as your rosy lips that heâs known time and time again to be nonchalantly formed into a grinâ now, so prettily stained crimson by the harsh press of your teeth against your puffy, bottom lip. âDonâtâ ugh, fucking look at me like that.â You audibly groan out in the mix of a huffed chuckle. Slightest flush delicately dusting your cheeks a pink hue, so damn pretty too. âHah, it makes things kinda awkward, yâknow?â Ah, takes less than a stretched minute for his brain to acutely process whatâs hit him before given the proper chance.
Something hotâ and sticky too, actually itâs pretty evident what it shouldâve been if he wasnât so goddamn brain dead within this bleary moment. Splattering amongst the already present mess youâve both collectively made of yourself, thick ropes of sweet cum landing right upon his rumpled uniform youâve taken a gleeful joy of permanently ruining. Judging by the cackling laughter soon drawing forth outta ya thanks to the sheer, dizzying sight of the cum-stained mess heâs forced to pitifully endure for the time being.
Look what youâve done, godâ even if you manage to be one step ahead of him, as always, in such a predicament as the delinquent merely receives a thrown jacket straight in the face. âSorry for ruining your nice shirt of yours, I couldnât really help myself when you looked so dumb like that. Take it as an apology, alright?â Exhaling out shakily in the chilling air suddenly alarmingly cold without your warm weight shifted against his own, too deliriously fucked out of his mind to muster up a rightful remark to your cheaply made one. Dumb, little olâ puppy is what he is to you, no?
And perhaps then, itâs the idiotic absurdity of your actions, swiftly turning away like the encounter itself hadnât even taken place right at this very spot. Footsteps progressively fading amongst the rhythmic crunches of fallen leaves fluttering down from the withering trees, gaze tentatively flicking downwards to where your stupidly soft, discarded jacket rests within his arms. Meaningless gesture is what it shouldâve been notably perceived as, though that doesnât really help the gradual thump! of his swaying heart noisily beating against his chest nonetheless.
Thatâs notâ oh.
Oh.
â..Fuck.â
Yeah, being wholly swallowed by the ground beneath his feet doesnât sound so bad now, does it?
#sorry just had to get this out of my system after not writing for around 2 weeks straight#so if this is utter dog shit Iâm sorry for having forgotten how to properly write#but yknow nothing beats a whimpering whiny bitch of a mess Whitney#although this was meant to be a short drabble and not a full on lengthy one#not to say 3.5k is all that much in comparison to some but 2k+ isnât a drabble to me anymore#weâre back to our regular schedule â balls deep in boypussy#had lotsa fun doing this as a warm up and god I cannot wait to expand upon upperclassman reader#dol#degrees of lewdity#whitney the bully#whitney dol#dol whitney#whitney degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity whitney#x male reader#top male reader#dom male reader#male reader#character x male reader#â â burnt ashes.
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orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)
words: 1k (about 500 words each)
warnings: name calling, suggestive
orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself
dark
you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.
âwhat are you doing?â rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if heâs ever seen you read before.
ânothing.â you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. âhow was work?â
âfucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.â rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.
âim sorry.â you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.
âcan you get me an orange rafe? iâm craving one.â you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.
rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.
âthanks.â you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. âcan you peel it for me though babe?â
âwhat?â he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. âmy stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?â ârafey.â you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.
âopen up whore, i know how much you love to do that.â rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.
âyou are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.â you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.
âwhat?â
âfor tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!â you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.
âbut i peeled the orange for you.â rafe says with confusion.
âwhile also calling me a stupid whore!â you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you wonât put it on tiktok.
âare you not my dumb little slut?â rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.
âi mean i am, but-â
âexactly.â rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.
soft
you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.
âhey baby.â rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.
âhow was work?â you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.
âexhausting.â rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.
âim sorry bubs.â you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off.Â
âno big deal. how was your day?â rafe asks.
âgoodâŠâ you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. âbut iâm actually really hungry.â you blurt out, figuring you shouldnât delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesnât follow your line of sight.
âwhat are you hungry for? we can order delivery.â rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesnât force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply donât feel like cooking.
âi actually just want an orange.â you shrug.
âthats not really food, darling, but okay.â rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.
you canât help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that heâs going to pass the test.
âhere ya go.â rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.
âraaafe.â you whine.
âwhat?â rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.
âi wanted a whole orange.â you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.
âwhy, were you gonna eat the peel or something?â rafe laughs.
âno, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.â you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. âyouâre supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if youâll help me with a small task.â
âshould i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?â rafe questions.
âno, i donât even really want an orange to be honest.â you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up.Â
âwhat do you want then honey?â
âcan you get me a banana?â you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.
you grab your phone and set it closer. âheâs just too good of a boyfriend.â you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.
you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.
âpeel it for me babe?â
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#i firmly believe that whether dark or soft rafe will peel that damn orange!#its just how much hes gonna make fun of you doing it lol#really these are the same rafe just depending on his mood that day lmao#rafe drabble#rafe cameron drabble#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe x reader#dark!rafe cameron x reader#soft!rafe cameron#soft!rafe x reader#soft!rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic
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